Dawn of the Nephilim

21. An unexpected guest part I

Regretfully, Ronan's prediction from the previous night turned out to be entirely accurate. His muscles felt as if he had repeatedly been caught in the middle of two charging bulls. He accepted his fate and decided to limit any and all movements as much as he possibly could. Still, he felt relieved that he hadn't had any terribly realistic dreams with the compliments of Tiar'Mara this night. That was kind of her. "Good morning once again Ronan Jack's son." At this point the familiar voice of Eloï'inda was a soothing sound to hear – albeit it interspersed with a fair amount of dread – and he turned to her with a smile, which was only slightly spoiled by a wince at the sudden movement. "Good morning to you as well teacher." "Care for some breakfast?" she asked as she extended a finger to what seemed like mushrooms, and fish, delightfully prepared. She really does know how to sweeten the deal. This is vacation. It was already starting to become a bit of a ritual between them. Deliberately slow, Ronan got to his feet. "Yes I would like some breakfast teacher, thank you very much."

He seated himself and ate his breakfast. It tasted delicious, and he told her so. Again he was rewarded with a smile, which made him happy. For a moment, he managed to forget his worries. "So, have you given any thought about what you are going to do with regard to your village?" Frowning, Ronan felt his worries return to him in full measure.

"I have teacher, and I think..." "Here, catch," she interrupted him as she threw him his quarterstaff. He quickly extended his arms to catch the staff. Big mistake. His muscles quickly and effectively punished him for his audacity, and he groaned. "What is it teacher? Do you want to continue training right now?" The thought was enough to make his blood run cold and his muscles shriek. Well they would if they could. Eloï'inda sat with her eyes closed. "No Ronan, somebody is approaching the island." She hesitated a moment as she opened her eyes. "Well, at least one person. He seems to be quite skilled from what I can tell from this distance. He is controlling his energy...miasma let's say, which is that part of the energy signature that makes it easy to spot the unknowing and the unskilled. He is a human, but a remarkable one. He might turn out a formidable foe." Ronan found himself wishing that they would just have continued the training.

"What direction is he coming from?" Ronan asked as he anxiously looked around. "Right there" Eloï'inda said as she pointed straight behind him. The same direction he had come from an eternity ago. "It is too late now to hide ourselves, Ronan. He must have seen your boat already, and I suspect he might have seen through my attempt at hiding our energy signatures before that too. All we can do now is wait and be ready." Calmly rising from where she was sitting, she extended a hand towards the fire, extinguishing it in mere moments. For a moment, Ronan thought he caught a trace of energy running into the soil. Then suddenly, there emerged in her hands two red blades that seemed to be seething with energy, flowing across it in ripples. Ronan stared at the alien weapons in amazement. "Stand behind me Ronan. Should it come to pass that I fall here, protect Tiar'Mara." Dignified and calm she took up a position in the middle of the clearing. Ronan was not at all convinced that he would stand a chance against anything that made it past her. But he responded with a "yes teacher" and sprang to action. He hoped his voice sounded determined.

"Now please be quiet Ronan. If this person sends any type of missile, like an imbued arrow our way through the bush, I must focus to deflect it. I have measures in place to stop some, but not all. The same goes for any other projectile. Now we can only wait, we shall not hide." An eerie quiet dawned over the island after her last words. Ronan closed his eyes and tried to listen for any sounds that could betray what the position of their potential attacker was. For a few seconds that seemed closer to an eternity, he heard nothing but the rush of his own blood in his ears. Then, he heard the familiar scrape of a boat hitting shore. After that, there was silence again. In front of him, Eloï'inda tensed and crouched. Then, as if struck by lightning, she made an incredible jump forwards towards the opening at the side of the bush, blades raised and ready to kill. He could vaguely discern a shape just starting to emerge next to the bush. This shape noticed the threat coming towards him, and faster than Ronan would have thought possible, it spun away to the left, away from the place where Eloï'inda now landed.

When the shape came to a halt Ronan immediately yelled "Eloï'inda, don't! He is a friend." To his amazement, Eloï'inda listened and did not attack. She slowly lowered her swords. In front of her stood a crouching Windar, spear extended in front of him in a defensive position. His eyes locked onto her, while his face bore a wary expression. His body was covered in heavy, brown leather traveling clothes that covered his tattoos, completed with sturdy, knee-high boots. A big necklace with huge banded ivory tusks dangled from his neck. He seemed to be armed to the teeth. Over his back a bow and closed off buckler were swung, and on his sides he wore two swords that seemed somewhat reminiscent of the ones Eloï'inda wielded. After his yell, Windar was the first that spoke. "I knew it. Well I didn't knew it was like this. But I could sense.." he hackled and seemed at a loss for words. "Hello Ronan" he said with a quick glance in his direction. Then he lowered his spear, and went on one knee in front of Eloï'inda. "Messenger, I am honored." Silence fell anew. Ronan was astounded at Windar's sudden appearance and warily eyed Eloï'inda, who was skeptically taking the measure of Windar.

"Rise young man. We need not be bowed to and certainly not in your own lands." In response to her words Windar slowly got to his feet. "Young man you call me. And by your reckoning it is clearly so. Though among the humans here I am considered to be an so old a man as to be ancient already. And even among our brothers and sisters in the south-east, I have reached adulthood long since." An approving smile crept across Eloï'inda's face, and the swords in her hands disappeared the same way they had seemed to pop into existence. "Very well then, what is your name, man?" An almost boyish grin crept over Windar's face, and he made a flourishing bow. "I am called Windar in these parts messenger. In the past, in another place and another time, that name had been changed to Wion'dair." Eloï'inda gained a thoughtful repose, at the mention of this name. "Wion'dair..." she said softly. "He that mourns. A strong name for any human. I would one day like to hear the story behind it." Windar seemed to become ill at ease at the explanation of his name, and he shuffled his feet about a little. "Yes messenger. Perhaps one day I shall find the words to tell it to you."