"First Meeting"


With one turn he swung his body in an arch towards the pond curled within tall marshleaves, watching his friend and partner fall in such a manner that it seemed even Time itself had wound down to an animated pause....though even if it had, he had not enough speed to reach his life-friend before the ensuing heavy-bodied splash; with a roar of rage he finished off his adversaries and ran to his wounded leader to stare into the dieing eyes of the man who had gathered them all and had protected him so many times...it was there that he glimpsed the man's thoughts, and relived the tale of how they met, together. This was their first encounter, placed not more than a few years before the world of today, and was the start of an endless love in friendship that would be legend for centuries to come....

To the ears of the seventeen year old Elf by the name Zillon, only and adopted son of Xiimdan the Great Merchant who protected the secret of Zillon's true origin with zeal, there was the sound of a heavy body crashing into the marshpond while unnacompanied by the heavy breathing of a hunter dragging away his or her prize. In place, the sound of feet fading away in the distance at a great pace towards the horizon, and if one were Human and cared for a climb to see one would agree. Curious he was, and thinking of an easy dinner whether by forgotten prey or a rescued hunter filled his thoughts whilst he rushed to the Marshland...And pausing  only when he stumbled across the body of a Captain of the Queen's Royal Guardians. Brushing away some of the clinging rush, he wondered whether he should have cause to help or leave the man to die...But soon within his heart of hearts, he knew what he must do; he carefully removed the arrows with an expert's grace and knowledge; the man was near death yet the teenager found himself able to carry the dying Captain as he planned to leave the man to an inn before changing his mind and heading for his own cabin; for who knew if the attackers might yet return, or if his 'guest' was a rogue and so then he could be hung simply by a vague accusation of being the injured man's accomplice? Entering the one-floored cabin his father had given him on his last birthday at home when Zillon had announced his intentions to fend for himself, he set the Captain upon the single bed set off to the side before cleaning the wounds; he applied salve and bandaged the victim, then did his best to send food down the Captain's mouth to his stomach. Having finished, he finally spotted the Sword sheathed by the Captain's side, an unusually plain for one of the resting man's station.
"No one will find him here, save me," Zillon reasoned with himself. "Not only will he be safe here, but if he is a rogue then I will not be hanged...for if I am, suspicion will surely fall upon my father as well, for no other reason than I carried a rogue to a place of rest and peace."

       Three days later the Captain finally awoke, speaking his first words to Zillon clearly and demanding. "Why am I here?"
"I am Zillon, who found you laying near death in the mashland, two arrows embedded within your chest and one in your side, yourself near death. I have cleaned and dressed your wounds, but now I must leave to hunt so we both may eat something." He carefully avoided mentioning his own father's name for safety's sake, though he knew according to custom he was crudely introduced himself.
But he was not as sly as he would have liked to be; the Captain noticed his lack of speaking the other half of his introduction. "And your father is...?"
Sighing as he glanced at his shoes, the boy humbly replied, "I am the son of Xiimdan the Great Merchant."
"I see; and am I an animal for you to take home and treat? When will I be set free, when you so desire and have tired of me?"
Flushing with anger, Zillon grabbed his bow and arrow, "I found you wounded and near death, so I brought you here to be healed. I have introduced myself, but you have refused to return the same courtesy; if you find my hospitality so revolting, and yourself at such unease, then here is the door and you may leave at anytime....I am sorry if this is so far from your home of plush seatings and gourmet breakfasts."
The sound of the Captain's laughter echoed and followed Zillon out the door.
When he returned later, the Captain was still there and grinning, but this time he had with him two rabbits and a fish boiling in a pot of water.
"I wondered when you'd be back. I hope you don't mind me using your pot and spices, but I thought I'd cook something up for us -- after all, it doesn't look like you'd succesfully hunt much with that bow; the arrows look just fine, but your bow's a little crooked. Besides, I know how to cook 'gourmet breakfasts' remember?"
Gaping, Zillon could only ask, "How long do you plan on staying here?!"
"Oh, I was searching for some people, and I was hoping I could stay here and use this place as my base for now; I'll fetch my food of course, and find my own bedding to sleep on."
"Who were you searching for?" Zillon asked with growing curiosity as he put his hunting weapons away to sit down empty-handed, but the Captain only stirred the pot slowly without speaking or looking up, nor giving anything away with the neutral look resounding from his two eyes, so Zillon continued his questioning. "Who are you?"
Sighing, he sat down from crouching on his heels, and stared into the fire below the pot. "I am Rick, son of Jake the Wealthy Farmer, Captain of the Royal Guard's personal protection squad for the Queen, who's been kidnapped." He began, then growling the next sentance, "We were on our way to barging in and attempting to take her with brute force and no intelligent plan, thanks to the Archbishop!" Softening his voice to a decent tone, he continued on after a pause. "I was...I only half agreed with the plan; I knew it would not work, but who was I to say this to the three placed above me by the King himself? I and thirteen of my Squad were left alive, and the backs of the fleeing trouts who call themselves admirals, though they gave not one word of retreat! Though we were battered and bruised, we still made it inside, what was left of us; the Queen, bless her, returned to her captivity after we rescued her, in an attempt to save us when fresh reinforcements underneath her captor at the castle arrived. But she first ordered me upon a certain quest, one that had been told before only in tales and myth, swearing me upon her honor that I would not return to her or the King until I had finished it, then told my followers to see me through it as far as their lives would allow or until the end of the quest. But the Queen's captor had not spoken truth; as we left his chosen Squad ambushed us, and only two of my Squad and myself escaped, three other survivors staying behind to ensure our escape...but we were pursued, and not too long after, my last two Squad members were slaughtered, and I shot with an arrow of my aide who had taken one in turn for me; it was by luck you found and saved me, after I too was shot."
"What quest are you on? Perhaps I could--" Zillon began.
"NO! I will do this myself. There will be no more dying on my account!" Rick bellowed, interrupting Zillon in mid-sentance without care as his eyes, haunted with recent memories enough to wound the soul for all eternity, turned to rest on Zillon's own pair of nearly innocent peepers.
"Then at least tell me what the quest is." Zillon urged, but recieved no answer for a long moment.
"No. You...you would not be one, and-and I will not have your death on my hands." Rick answered as he turned away to calm down. "Do not speak of this to me again."
Zillon did not reply; he knew he would not pinch another answer from this man tonight, and so they ate their dinner in silence, followed by sleep. Zillon left the bed for his guest and pulled a cot out for himself, realizing for the first time that if Rick was the son of an ordinary farmer he would never have the position he did now, but of a rich farmer, that would change and explain the plain Sword.
           The next day the Captain was up and around in a cheerful mood and helping with the hunt, though the teenage Elf wondered whether Rick was simply hiding a disturbed emotional state; he also could nearly believe no incident had happened the night before sace for the prescence of the still-healing Captain. But now he could neither ignore nor forget what did happen anymore than he could resist pursuing the matter further. "Supposing taking me along would put me in danger; but am I not already in danger, simply for nursing you back to health?"
Rick's current project was immediately terminated as his face turned red with fury before unspoken; freeing his Sword from it's holster, and with a flourishing grace and agility surprising to Zillon considering his guest's social station, Rick sent the point swiftly against his rescuer's throaght, shouting as he did so. "Did I not I tell you to never ask me more of this?!"
Gazing steadily at the man who's Sword-point was to his jugular vein, Zillon spoke calmly and assuredly. "Put the Sword down, I know you will not hurt me...for did you not say there would be no more killing by your own hands, Rick?"
Sighing as he sat upon a lump of grass, he did not sheath his Sword nor did he point it again towards the young Elf, but instead dropped it as he held his wrists together towards Zillon. "You have bound me. I do owe you a great debt as well, for saving me, Elfen boy."
"Nonsense!" Zillon protested as he realized what the man had just called him. "Wait...when did you--?" He was sharply cut off by the sounds of large bodies moving through the rush, one set moving in the general direction of the cabin, and another heading towards their position.
"Be ready for anything," Rick growled to his companion as together they prepared each in their own stance for attacking. "even for traitorous men belonging to the king....they never travel quietly, to or from battles, yet they do travel more quietly when returning from a battle; it's almost as if they wish to announce their presence, that they might die before the battle starts."

And so it had begun, a remarkable adventure, to continue in yet another chapter for another time....