Dragon's Blood

Chapter 4:Recompense

Several months later, Darkelm was walking past Kara's room and was stopped by the young princess. He glanced at her uneasily, after his outburst; most residents of the castle tried their best to avoid him. Now Kara had walked out of her room because of the fear of losing control of her powers.

"Hello milady, what seems to be the problem?" He asked, looking at the girl who avoided locking his gaze. Darkelm smiled slightly, kneeling to place his hand on Kara's shoulder. He knew that his actions in the castle showed his inhuman ruthlessness. But his silent demeanor made him be able to be trusted with secrets (and made him one of the best eavesdroppers).

"I can't sleep." She stammered, her voice shaking. Darkelm nodded understandably, noting the slight tint of fear in her tone.

"You're afraid, of me and your powers." He said calmly, shaking his head. "You have every right to be, people with our power have different ways of letting the remainder of our power. And because each one is different, you must find your own way to release your power." He said, guiding the young princess back to her bed. "But if you want words of comfort, I'm afraid that I'm not the best one to speak to." He let out a sigh as he tucked Kara under the covers, "I can however, offer a peaceful rest." with these words, he produced a harp, and after plunking a few cords, he began to play a soft, lilting tune that rose and fell with his calm breath. The calming music echoed softly through the hall and the room. Kara's breath slowed and her eyes slowly closed and she slept. Darkelm quietly stood and left the room as quietly as a ghost.

"What was wrong?" Arkairal asked stepping out of the shadows as Darkelm passed him. Darkelm laughed quietly as he raised his hand, still holding the harp.

"She couldn't sleep." came his reply, plunking a few notes on the instrument. "I played the lullaby that I used to play for my sister."

"I suppose you can't be a heartless butcher all the time." Arkairial's replied, chuckling, Darkelm gave him a dark glare. "But I think they'll warm up to you eventually." he added, smiling even wider. Darkelm scoffed and shook his head, his hands quietly gliding to his knife on his belt and slightly pulled the blade from its sheath. Instantly, he spun around and threw the knife, burying the blade into the wall behind the pair.

"My, my, jumpy aren't we." James said, stepping out of the shadows, a smirk on his face.

"Icefang, I swear, if you insinuate humor with your powers over ice, I'll kill you myself." Darkelm said, crossing his arms.

"He might not, but I make no promises." Arkairail said, "And in my opinion, you do need to chill out." Arkairal said, his smile widening even further. James raised an eyebrow; Darkelm placed his hand over his face and shook his head.

"That's enough foolery for now" Darkelm said, "I'll be at the archery range practicing if anything happens." he added, kicking his bow into the air and catching it. Arkairail gave James a questioning look.

"What's his problem?" he asked, James looked at the spearman and shook his head

"Well, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you probably aren't the best one to talk to him about this situation." James reprimanded him.

"Do you think you could see what's bothering him?" Arkairail asked, his smirk fading to a confused grin. James nodded quietly and followed the elf to the range. Darkelm pulled back his bow, losing another arrow into the hay target.

"Why do you persist to bother me, I thought made it quite clear that I do not wish to be bothered." he said, firing yet another arrow, splitting the shaft down the middle. He turned to James; his eyes were filled with tears, though none spilled.

"You miss your family, your people. I know how you feel, the empty void that nothing ever could fill. I felt the same when I discovered my father had fled because of my heritage." James said, placing his hand comfortingly on his friend's shoulder.

"Do not pretend to know my pain!" Darkelm shouted, swinging his bow, it struck James in the cheek, the sheer power of the blow split the skin, but thankfully, none of the plague energy seeped into the wound.

"Your right, I don't, but I do know you can't just run from your problems." Darkelm scoffed again, kicking a knife into his hand and throwing it into the target behind him. It, not to his surprise, landed directly in the center of the bullseye.

"Your words are empty to me." Darkelm replied, turning back to the target. "You were not disowned and banished because of your heritage." he added, punctuating his point by firing another arrow into the target. James sighed, placing his hand on the elf's shoulder.

"I would recommend not making assumptions my friend." Darkelm glared at his companion, scoffing at the knight.

"Yes, yes I heard of your little adventure when your child king found out his favorite knight was half-dragon." He said, placing his bow onto the holster on his back. "And if I may say so, it wasn't all that impressive, considering on how you needed Sir Gawain to save your sorry hide." James smiled, surprising the Elf. "What?"

"Nothing, I'm just happy you are able to return to your old, happy self so easily." James said, nodding. "Also, if you adjust your bow to be pulled back just a finger width more; you could easily tear a limb off a man." James nodded, Darkelm nodded and smiled, pulling the back the string of his bow as recommended, arrow fitted snugly on it. He fired and watched as the arrow completely pierced the straw target and knocked the stick that was propped up the target out from under it. The target fell to the ground as he smirked with satisfaction. With a slight nod, he whipped the arrow and the nearly invisible string attached to the back of it, the blade sliced nicely through the loosely knitted straw and string with a quick snap. With a quiet chuckle, Darkelm caught the arrow and held it out for James to inspect. The blade of the projectile was elongated to the point where it could almost be a dagger itself, the tip was bent inwards, the wound that the weapon would leave a nasty wound, cutting through muscle and bone, but the damage to the head of the arrow would make it very impractical to use it again, but that problem was easily remedied by changing of the metal used.

"I know what you're thinking, but any other metal that I have access to is too heavy to use in that fashion." Darkelm said, shaking his head. James smiled quietly and he nodded.

"Yes, but you're going to be here for a while, and this kingdom has quite the mithril mine, larger than any I've seen." James said, nodding quietly, Darkelm returned his nod and smirked.

"Yes, and not to mention the plentiful supply of Ebony." Darkelm, nodding, the mention of the rare, dark black metal making James raise his eyebrows. The ebony metal was just as light as mithril, many disregarded it as a worthless byproduct of refining the glittering white metal, but those that knew how to utilize it considered it merely a black variation of mithril.

"I've seen you use that metal a more than once." The knight admitted, nodding. "How did your smiths craft such metal?" Darkelm simply smirked and fired another arrow, this time tipped with the black metal that he just spoke of. "These aren't cheap, infact I've lost a few heads when the wood shattered." He repeated the motion from before, slicing another target in half, but even the durable metal showed visible signs of its sharp edge dulling. James raised his eyebrow, inspecting the metal.

"May I ask what your bow's draw is?" The knight asked, holding up his hand. Darkelm smiled, placing the weapon in his hand.

"325 pounds." James' eyebrows raised, and handed the weapon back. "I aim to impress Lord Plagueis, and skill and efficiency of such weapons."

"I'm sure you do, I'm sure."