Of Blood And Fire by Ryan Cahill (best classic books of all time .txt) 📕

watch over us, to protect the Draleid, Calen Bryer, and the dragon, Valerys. To go with him wherever he may lead, to the void or beyond.”

With the completion of their oath, the five elves rose to their feet and turned expectantly to Thalanil.

“It is with honour that your oath has been witnessed by those here and by the six who watch over us,” Thalanil replied. “It is done. Draleid, these rangers will protect you with their lives. Your bond is not that of blood or magic but of honour, and it is stronger than steel.”

Calen couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if Thalanil glanced at Therin as he spoke. The elf had been keeping his distance.

“Thank you for everything. If you had not found us, then I fear we may not have lasted the night,” Aeson said. He reached out his arm and wrapped his fingers around Thalanil’s forearm in a tight grasp, which Thalanil reciprocated.

“Aeson Virandr, it is always a pleasure to set eyes upon you, old friend, but to see that you bring hope with you.” Thalanil paused, directing a warm smile towards Calen. “The first free Draleid in four centuries. If I am to be honest, I had given up on that hope a long time ago. If I could, I would march all of Aravell out of these woods alongside you.”

“That day may well come,” Aeson responded sombrely. Thalanil twisted his mouth, nodding his head in agreement. “For now, we thank you for your aid and your oath, but we must be on our way. It is a long journey to Belduar through the mountains.”

Thalanil made to bow towards Calen. Instead, Calen mimicked Aeson’s gesture, extending his arm out towards the elf. “I owe my life to you and your elves, as does Valerys and everyone here. Thank you.”

The look of shock on the elf’s face gave way to one of appreciation. He grasped Calen’s arm. “It was my honour, Draleid, as I hope it will be again.”

With a quick nod, Thalanil rounded and walked back towards his men. Faelen followed him, though Calen couldn’t help but notice her mouth turn as she glanced sideways at Therin. Her gaze lingered, but he seemed to do his best to pretend he didn’t see her.

Erik, Dahlen, and Dann approached, with Dann clutching his arm close to his chest.

“You okay?” Calen asked.

“Yeah, just a scratch, really.” Dann shrugged, a wry smile on his face. He winced as his attempted shrug pulled at the healing wound in his shoulder. “We got new friends?” Dann’s head tilted towards the five elves who still stood in a straight line, their stances rigid. “Wait, I know you,” he said, nodding towards Vaeril. “You’re the one who fixed my shoulder. Thank you.”

“It was my honour,” Vaeril replied. A satisfied smile spread across his face.

“Okay,” Aeson said, looking around the group. “It is time that we are on our way. We will march towards the pass, breaking only when we catch first sight of the moon. It is impossible to tell the cycles of day and night in this place.” Aeson turned towards the elves, addressing them alone. “Do any of you need to gather anything before we leave?”

It was Vaeril who replied, speaking for the group. “No, Rakina. We have everything we will need.” He gestured to a satchel slung across his back, with a blanket roll tied to its side. Each of the elves carried similar.

“Horses?” Calen asked, unsure himself whether he had intended to speak aloud. “Do you not need horses?”

“No, we will keep up just fine,” one of the elves replied, whose name Calen did not yet know. His response seemed unnecessarily curt to Calen.

Calen nodded. “Before we leave, your names. You cannot swear oaths to protect me without me even knowing your names.”

“Oaths to protect you?” Calen was convinced that Dann would have laughed at him if it would not have caused him so much pain.

Vaeril was the first to step forward, “As you know, Draleid, I am Vaeril. Vaeril Ilyin, ranger of Aravell.”

The other elves stepped forward in turn, presenting themselves in the same way.

The firmness in Ellisar’s eyes led Calen to believe that he had seen many a summer, which belied his youthful face. If they could look past his tapered ears, many women in the villages would have considered him incredibly handsome. His short black hair was similar to Rhett Fjorn’s, as was his build, and women often swooned over Rhett.

Alea and Lyrei were twins. At least, in Calen’s mind, that was the only explanation. Even if he had hours to examine their faces down to the most minute detail, he did not think he would have the slightest chance of telling them apart. They were both beautiful – perhaps not in the conventional sense, but they were most certainly beautiful in Calen’s eyes. Both had short blonde hair with fringes that hung to one side and shimmering golden eyes. He had never seen golden eyes before; it must be a uniquely elven trait.

The last was Gaeleron, the elf who was curt to Calen. His long brown hair was tied up at the back of his head, giving his face a harsh appearance. A thin scar on his right cheek ran horizontally, just under his eye. Calen couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something about the way the elf spoke and looked at him that made him uneasy. There was contempt in his eyes.

Therin approached the group, already on horseback, eying the elven rangers uneasily. “Are we ready?”

“We are,” Aeson replied.

“Wait, what about the bodies?” Calen asked.

“The forest will take them.”

By the time they reached the edge of the treeline, the crescent moon was shining like a beacon in the night sky. They had marched through the entire day. Calen was sure he had fallen asleep in the saddle. Whatever Therin had done to him had eased the pain of his wounds and relieved some of his fatigue, but it certainly