Fleeting Love by Dawn Wright (reading like a writer txt) 📕

I am Rivaea Venator. I am a Dale Elf of the Foraoise Clan, or Forest Clan. The Foraoise are a clan of extremely skilled hunters and archers, superior in the woods to most of the other clans. We are able to follow the trail of a animal with ease that another would not be able to see.

Though I am Foraoise I am not accepted by the clan, I am tolerated at most. I have no family, both my father and mother died before I was any older than a infant and I don't know what they looked like or even their names. As such I was given the last name Venator which loosely means hunter, instead or the standard practice of taking the surname and last name of your father and mother. Who exactly my parents were, what they did, or how they died I have no idea. The subject is never talked about, considered taboo, and any questions I ever asked were never answered and only resulted in punishment.

I have no friends save for Talon. He is the only one who has treated me like a actual person. Since we first ran into each other as toddlers in camp we have been close friends. We learned to hunt, track, and fight together and have established a reputation of being the best hunters in the clan. It is our kills that feed the clan most of the time, but still I am not seen as one of them. As we have grown older we have also grown closer, our friendship changing and growing...

Talon and I walk easily through the forest, our shoulders brushing. We are silent as we hunt, but it is a companionable silence that we enjoy. We each are dressed in the standard hunting hunter attire of our clan; leather pants, a belt, long sleeved shirt, and light weight leather armor over it. We each have a quiver of arrows across our backs and carry powerful longbows as long as we are tall.

My bow is the only thing that is truly mine in my possession. My blades and personal effects back at camp, including the inks and quills I use to draw, were given or lent to me by the less than loving members of my clan. But my bow is mine, no one holds claim to it but me. It is as tall as I am and made of ebony wood. Their are silver designs, swirling veins of silver, inlaid into the the black wood serving as decoration and reinforcement allowing me to block blows with it if I had to.

Stepping over a fallen tree we come across tracks. I stop and crouch down to examine them, brushing back fronds to see. Tamlen joins me crouching down beside me, our knees touching as he traces the contours of the track.

“Elk, probably a fair sized male. Fresh too, he can't be far.” Talon says looking up from the track and grinning at me. I smile back. We both live for the hunt, enjoying the woods and challenge.

“We are in luck.” I say. He stands and offers a hand, which I take and he pulls me to my feet making me stumble into his chest. He holds me there for a moment before pulling away and smiling slyly his vivid green eyes shining with mischief. I shake my head but smile anyways.

We set out again, following the tracks until we come upon our prey. A large elk buck with an impressive rack of antlers grazes in a medium sized clearing ahead of us. Talon stops and notches an arrow in his bow. I take two more light footed steps before taking a arrow from my quiver and notching it on my bow. I raise my weapon looking down the shaft and wait.

The elk raises its head snorting. Behind me I hear the musical twang of Talon's bowstring as he releases. His arrow hisses through the the air past my head and on to strike the elk behind its foreleg. The elk staggers as it begins to bolt but my arrow is already on its way whizzing through the air to embed itself in in the elk's throat, arresting its movement. The great animals legs fold and it sinks to the ground. Its regal head lolls to the side as I lower my bow. It was a clean kill, perfect timing between Talon's shot and mine. Surprisingly coordinating a kill like this is difficult but Tamlen and I are perfectly in synch.

Talon laughs joyous as always after a successful kill and moves up beside me. He tosses an arm around my shoulders and I grin as we move into the clearing.

“An excellent kill! Lyna will be pleased!” He says bumping into me playfully. Lyna is the clans head cook and has been wanting fresh elk for the past week.

“Of course.” I say bumping him back. Stopping at our kill I shrug him off and draw my bone handled skinning knife and kneel by the carcass. I say brief prayer thanking the Goddess of the Hunt for the kill and begin to gut the carcass. We will remove the organs and vitals before we take it back to camp.

“Rivaea....for the past few months....I've been thinking now that we are older an considering...the way we feel about each other..I was thinking on approaching Keeper Vallaslin to discuss a union...our union if you would have me?” Talon says casually though he pauses a lot he seems worried. This is the first time I've seen Talon struggle for words. Then what he just asks sinks in and I freeze mid-motion. Raising my head I look at him in half hopeful disbelief.

“Talon...did you just ask...could we...Truly?” I ask finding myself unable to speak clearly either.

“Oh my, have I actually taken the sharp witted Rivaea's ability to speak with a silver-bladed tongue?” He asks teasingly but with true affection.

“Talon do not joke!” I cry.

“I would never. Rivaea would you join your life with mine under the eyes of the Lady of the Skies and the Mountain Father?” He asks seriously. My heart leaps in my chest as I am hit with a wave of pure joy.

“Talon! Yes!” I say leaping to my feet and going to him. I jump throwing my arms around him and hugging him fiercely. He catches me his arms wrapping around me and holding me close for several wonderful moments.

“Wonderful!” He says taking me by the shoulders and stepping back so that he can see my face. I smile...until suddenly a red shafted arrow in buried in his shoulder and he staggers away from me with a cry of pain.

“Talon!” I exclaim even as years of instinct and training take over causing me to spin around drawing a arrow and notching it on my bow before I've completed the turn. Even as I face the direction from which the arrow came another whizzes past my face leaving a shallow furrow on my right cheek and nicking my ear. I recoil and cry out in pain as another arrow lodges itself deep in my right shoulder, missing bone and going all the way through the flesh.

Behind me I hear the thwang of a bow and a arrow arcs past me towards the group of humans that are emerging from the forest. Talon is returning fire. The attacking archers are hanging back at the tree line while others approach with swords. I reach up and break the arrow off before raising my bow and firing. My arrow buries itself in one of the descending attackers throats and he collapses with a gurgle. I aim and fire arrow after arrow into the mass of humans with a speed and accuracy that no human could dare match. While my arrows thin the ranks of those approaching, Talon's rain death on the archers. We are a deadly pair and at lest fifteen on their number are dead before they reach us.

Soon though they are too close for bow and arrow. I exchange my bow for my two short blades and no sooner do I have them draw than the humans reach us. I hear Talon block a attack with his sword before I have to block a incoming strike of my own. As the attackers sword slides off my my blades a arrow pierces my side, going through my light armor. I cry out retreating backwards as I break the arrow off. My attacker pursues thinking that I am done for but not by a long shot. I block his next attack and we trade a flurry of blows before I get inside his guard and slide my blade across his throat.

No sooner does he drop than another takes his place. He dies with a blade across the back of his calf and another through the back of his neck severing his spinal cord. Two more drop before I find myself facing a man wielding a cruel looking curved sword which he swings at me with a gleeful smile on his face. I leap backwards, just not enough, his blade slices across my abdomen leaving a path of crimson.

I stagger backwards one hand pressed to my wound as my blood quickly stains my shirt and begins running down my stomach. The other arm I raise to defend myself from the mans next blow, but it is so powerful that it knocks my blade from my hand and slices into my forearm. I reel backwards trying to bring my other blade up as the man follows through with a third swing, but I see that I can't block it. Then Talon is there in all his avenging fury, the might of the Elven shining bright in his green eyes as he cuts the man down. He himself is bleeding heavily with multiple wounds and several arrows buried in him.

He touches my arm briefly willing me strength and questioning silently if I can still fight. I nod as I straighten and he turns to engage the attackers behind me. I face my next attacker armed now with only one blade. Which I lose in the gut of my next attacker. As I turn away from the corpse I dodge a blow stumbling sideways nearly tripping over a corpse and as I regain my balance I’m struck across the temple with a sword pommel. Reeling away from it I shake my head to clear it and draw the knife from my sleeve. I throw it, it spins end over end to bury itself into the mans throat.

I cry out as a arrow thuds into my left thigh. I go down to one knee.

“Rivaea!” Talon roars. Looking up I see him get cut down. My mind seems to snap as I watch him collapse.

“NO!” I scream so loud several men flinch. I surge to my feet and fling myself at Talon's killer with a blind rage. I leap on him beating him with my fists, trying to poke his eyes out until he flings me off. I land on my