The moon elf had entered the store completely unseen and even in his current situation the tailor took the time to wonder how he had managed his stunt without any detection; clearly the elf had done this sort of task before. Of course, the tailor did not yet know what �this sort of task� was, but he had the unpleasant feeling he was soon to find out.

�Your latest imports have been delayed, we believe?�

The tailor managed a nod against the ice-cold copper, the feeling that his throat was being slit as he did no more than a figment of a frightened mind. His captor, the moon elf with long white hair falling down over his face, remained completely cool, unmoving.

�We disapprove. We want the demanded order under the Eil�deth name to be arriving on time. You will see to this?�

Di�thang Eil�deth. The tailor had heard the name, heard tell of the man of the Eil�deth household, the shadow-stalking husband of the charming Ar�thilmus. The tailor had witnessed the tales of men who had tried their luck with the beautiful woman, momentarily confident in her loneliness. Moments later, it had been said, such men would find the wife was not in fact alone. Di�thang was always there, and he would remove the hands of those that tried their luck in laying them on the elven damsel. Though he had never seen the lifelong marks of such victims himself, the tailor knew he would not like to test his own luck.

�You will see to this?�

The monotonous and drawling voice repeated its question and the tailor could only manage another nod for fear of his windpipe being slit upon speaking, by the copper blade threatening his life.

�Good. We shall expect to see the order tomorrow. You have our thanks.�

Completely void of sound, the blade vanished from his throat, sliding out expertly without touching his skin. Taking a quick breath to calm his heart the thin tailor spun on his heels, sweat lining his brow. But remarkably there was no one there to meet his eyes, the moon elf aggressor having vanished in no more than the blink of the eye. �Damnit� the tailor thought to himself, for now he would have to leave town.

***

The needle clattered over the silks with what could only be described as a gentle furore, dragging with it a thread only just a lighter silver colour than that of the original fabric. The tear that the needle aimed to mend was a large one, straight across the lower belly of the blouse, from thigh to thigh. This implication did nothing to waver the will of the needle�s barer though, and Ar�thilmus continued her task at a peaceful pace, enjoying the relative quiet that the afternoon brought her. Of course, being the mother figure of the Eil�deth household, the red-haired elf maiden should have known better than to expect her solitude to last.

�Mother, have you seen my prayer beads anywhere, I�ll need them for when the priestess arrives here in a short while? Oh, and have you seen father recently, he�s vanished again as he is wont to do. Oh, by the way, I put the bread on as you asked, the fillings are laid out as you wished� oh, and uhm� I�m sure there was something else, you know?�

Ar�thilmus wearily let her gaze lift from her work on the damaged gowns on her lap, to rest it on her eldest daughter stood straight in the doorway to the rest room. The mother�s hands did not pause their needlework as her golden eyes surveyed Aza�lihnlia stood watching her impatiently.

�Your prayer beads are where you left them, Aza. Your father could be anywhere, as you very well know� thank you for sorting out the lunch for me, I will be with it shortly. And the �something else� might not be your dress gown which I am now working on, perchance? Which reminds me, what in the Dark Lady�s name were you doing fighting in your best robes in the first place, daughter of mine?�

Aza gave a small chuckle of embarrassment, allowing herself a quick glance to the partially-mended garment on her mother�s lap. With one finger she began twirling her red locks of hair, resting the other unoccupied hand on the unpainted doorframe of the rest room.

�Ah yes, see� the goblins attacked me when I was on my travels to collect the flour from the old mill� thought they had an easy loot in me, you see? You think that my robes are badly damaged, you should have seen the state of the goblins after our� scuffle.�

With that, the daughter gave another chuckle and hurried out of the room, calling something back over her shoulder about the priestess arriving any minute. Ar�thilmus gave a satisfied sigh at her interruption departing her, and returned her attention back to correcting the damage the aforementioned goblins had caused. But before the elven mother could even resettle herself on the couch, she felt a finger drag itself over her pointed ear, sending a shiver straight down her spine and she leapt out of her seat, spilling the gown and needle-box to the carpet. In a single movement, Ar�thilmus had spun around and had her fists raised in the direction she had felt the finger from.

From the shadow of the very couch she had moments ago been upon, rose a figure, slender and lithe in the way that only an elf could be, white hair down his shoulders and gold eyes peering into hers.

�Damnit Di�thang!� Ar�thilmus yelled with annoyance, �why do you insist on doing that? Can�t you just walk in like everybody else!?�

Her devoted husband opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off before a word could leave his lips.

�And before you say it, no I am not used to it!�

Di�thang smirked in a way that he was akin to do, the expression both mocking and amused at the same time. Just as easily as Ar�thilmus had become infuriated with him, her facial features melted into a calm acceptance, and without another word from either of them, she bent to her knees and began sorting the various needles and threads back into their assigned compartments in the box. Di�thang obligingly knelt with her, aiding in the tedious task as he spoke, his voice the usual monotonous tone that Ar�th was familiar with, his unusual use of plurals so accepted to her that she did not even notice.

�You should have seen her out there with those goblins, our love� we would say that a cut across the stomach of her robe was a fair trade for what she did to them with her dagg-�

�You were watching her out there!? Why in the blazes did you not aid her?�

Di�thang gave a dry chuckle as though the answer to her disruption was quite obvious. �She seemed to be doing just fine by herself.�

Ar�thilmus was just readying to give him a disapproving slap on the arm when her chances were interrupted, yet again, this time by the only son of the couple. Aelin�uial hurried into the rest room as though the house were on fire, his golden eyes wide and his words hurried; panicked.

�Father, come quickly! It�s Elis, she�s in trouble!�

The two elven parents leapt from the ground, ignoring the remaining needles around their feet and the silvery fabric trampled beneath their heels. Aelin gave his mother a thoughtful eye before turning, leading the way towards the front door of their large home. Nearing the exit, Aelin�uial turned to his mother and remarked quickly,

�But mother, the priestess?�

Ar�th gave the notion but a second�s thought, enough time to dismiss any idea of waiting behind, already half way to grabbing the scythe, that she had handed-down to Elis when the youngest daughter became old enough to wield such a weapon, to go in aid of its new owner. Di�thang stopped in his tracks, having already been armed with all he needed to begin with, and turned to his wife momentarily.

�The boy is correct for once, Ar�thilmus. You would serve better by waiting here with Aza�lihnlia for the High Priestess to arrive. We will take care of Naliana�elis.�

The mother of three reluctantly nodded to him, still pausing unsurely at the scythe. Di�thang gave her a weak smile of reassurance, and turned back to Aelin�uial, vanishing into the darkness of his son�s shadow as the younger elf took flight across the front gardens, a tiny smirk curling his thin lips.

***

Father and son sped up the side of the cliffs on the river-front at a tiring pace, only the latter being visible to the average eye, the former having obscured himself as only he could within his own son�s shadow. The path was an uphill one, steep and unwelcoming, loose rocks falling from the weight of Aelin�uial�s feet on them, and splashing noisily into the unsettled river below.

The youngest of the Eil�deth family did not let his path become swayed by the unstable ground though, focusing only on the important task at hand. As nimble as the Fey, Aelin leapt up the incline, knowing without visually seeing, that his father was hot in his trails, close-to-hand.

They had travelled for such a while now that Di�thang, concealed in the darkness as he was used to being, began to silently wonder how much further he would have to follow his son, and for what purpose Naliana�elis had been out so far from home. He was finding it difficult to keep pace with the younger Aelin�uial, and noted to himself that without the connection with the younger elf�s shadow, he would probably have been lagging far behind.

The two reached the top of the cliff side at last and found themselves to be in a grassy embankment on the cliff-edge of the river, the grass itself reaching up high past their waists. Aelin�uial slowed to a jog, winding his way through the pasture towards the edge of the cliff. A smile lined the lips of the youngest Eil�deth child, for he felt at home in this place; he felt welcome here, though he would usually have been here in solitude. He also felt pride; pride in himself, for he had outwitted them all.

Di�thang materialised suddenly out of the very shadow trailing from Aelin�s feet and cast down by the evening sun blazing above. The older elf looked at the back of his son with complete bewilderment, his golden gaze allowing itself to observe their surroundings at the same time.

�Where is she, then? Where is Naliana�elis?�

Aelin�uial did not turn to meet his father�s question. He stood now, tall and unmoving as he stared down into the sinuous river that was so vast that so many confused it for an ocean. The gentle breeze brought in from the waters, cast his sapphire robes around his slender body, the flaps blown open on either side. A small, concealed smirk crawled up the handsome elf�s chiselled face.

�My precious sister is in the cellar practicing her shadow-weaving,� Aelin began, putting a bitter-sounding emphasis on the last word. �Did she not tell you?�

Di�thang slowly narrowed his eyes in an immediate suspicion, a thin dagger sliding out of his black sleeve and into his palm as fluidly as though it were part of his body. Still, Aelin did not even turn around to face his father, who replied with his dagger held firmly, just loose enough to throw should the need arise.

�What is this all about, child?�

Di�thang�s last word seemed to irritate Aelin�uial, who slowly gritted his teeth. His fists balled, but he controlled the temper as easily as it had come, allowing his face and fingers to slowly relax to calm again. His words slipped off his tongue slowly, letting them sink in painfully.

�This 'child' has led you chasing wild geese, father of mine, whilst my dear mother remains at home, defenceless without her precious husband�s protection.�

The sentence settled in to Di�thang like a lead brick to his gut, and his instant reaction was to leap forward at his son, the dagger held out for the attack. But Aelin�uial�s reflexes were finely tuned enough to allow him to leap from the side of the cliff. Di�thang briskly steadied himself on the cliff edge as his son began to hover through midair, lowering himself from the cliff down to the river using the psionic skill he had practiced from his mother all of his life. Di�thang could only watch helplessly as the auburn-hair of his only son vanished down the side of the precipice, his laughter echoing across the embankment. Without wasting another single moment, Di�thang headed hastily back down the way the two had came, making a hurried beeline for their home.

***

The shadow-master burst into the Eil�deth home at break-neck speed, not even giving time to register the broken lock on the front door. In a manner very unusual to the moon elf, Di�thang rushed down the carpeted hallway and into the family�s rest room, the same room he had teased with his wife in only hours before. The room was as he had left it though, the needle-box and its contents still laying strewn across the carpet and the silver fabric they had been used to mend.

Di�thang did not hesitate; his next stop was the dining room where the Eil�deth family had shared so many meals cooked by his wife. The site that met Di�thang�s eyes was like something from one of his worst phantasms. Lain square across the long mahogany table was a human woman that Di�thang recognised to be the High Priestess of the Dark Lady, adorned still in her black and purple holy robes, marred only by a long, thin dagger, barbed with poison on one side of the blade, protruding through her heart. Thick red blood stained the Holy Woman�s robes, wet and fresh. Against the wall lay another figure, this one an auburn-haired moon elf maiden who Di�thang immediately recognised to be his step-daughter Azalihn�lia. Her robes were torn, revealing flesh that she would no doubt have ever willingly revealed, her skin torn in places by the glass from the smashed dinner set that she had seemingly been thrown into, a pair of daggers imbedded in her skin, one to an arm and the other a thigh. A quick study told Di�thang that she was breathing, all be it lightly, but she was very much unconscious.

His heart beating frantically, Di�thang was just about to rush from the room in search of Ar�thilmus when his golden eyes landed on the blood-stained parchment nailed by a dagger into the portrait of his wife that hung, usually proudly, from the furthest wall of the dining room. With an uncharacteristic lack of prior-inspection, the shadow-master grabbed up the parchment, reading the words scribed in fresh ink to himself.

�What a lovely household you have built yourself here, Di�thang. By now you will have noticed I have put an immediate end to that. I have your wife, Di�thang. Meet me at the spot that you lost your only son on the sundown of the sixth of this tenday. If you fail in this, you will have seen her pretty face for the last time� old friend.�

Di�thang looked up from the letter, his heart racing and his eyes scanning the small wreck of a room. The several daggers, all poisoned, imbedded in the walls around the room were his only clue, if he�d even needed one. Di�thang knew exactly who had laid this premeditated mayhem on his household, and the name slipped off his tongue like venom.

�Shade.�