The Broken Swordsman

Aiden, Séafra, & Keena

Story by Erica Branum

Aiden, Séafra, Keena, Lenawn, Siobhan, Keelin, and Kevley are © & ™ 2002 Erica Branum
Iilara & Rislyn are © & ™ 2002 Jennifer Fuller
Devnet is © & ™ 2002 Emilie
© 2001

The elven town was alive that day, the market open in the middle of the village where children, human, and a rising amount of Drow carried on their daily business like any other town in Underhill. Three large manors surrounded the town; the largest, belonging to Lord Kevley, stood at the place farthest to the North. The manor was bathed in pure white marble and stood three stories high. Elaborate gardens and walkways surrounded the manor, the front gate made of plated gold was constantly open. Yet, no guard stood at the large front door.

The second resided to the Southeast where Lady Keelin lives. An equally white marble building, not quite as large. The gardens were of red and blue roses that stretched over the front door of the small manor. There were no gates and once again, there were no guards.

The third was the most out of place, residing in the Southwest. It appeared to be more of a large and elaborate home rather than a manor, made of pure smoothed stone. The front door was oak and intricately carved in gaelic knots that surrounded a large stained glass window at the upper half of the door. The front yard of the home was a garden in itself, herbs, fruits and vegetables grew everywhere in bountiful proportions. The only flowers you would find there would be in the spring before they shed the blossoms to become all sorts of fruits. Out the back of the manor was a large amount of acreage. Two stables, one of pure stone and one resembling any other wooden stable, were settled side by side. They opened up in the back to a large pasture that stretched as far as the eye could see. Horses could be seen grazing over the grasses in the distance. This manor stood at the very edge of the clearing in which the village lay. On the edge of this manor's land was a thick woods full of mystical creatures and all sorts of unknown and misunderstood magics.

Out of the three manors the last was the most humble and by far the most known. Inside the doors and through the rooms of books and silks, candles and incense, was an old elf (which can't be that old, seeing that elves are immortal!) by the name of Aiden. Today he sat down in the library under his home in a chair big enough to hold a grown troll. The room had books older than he that contained all sorts of magics and spells, remedies and...even a few cookbooks. The eccentric elf himself had his nose in a book, long brown hair parted down the middle and splayed over his back to his waist as his proud posture slumped over in deep interest in the contents of his reading.

Aiden was a tall elf (though you can't tell when he's sitting down, he's always clothed in several flowing cloaks and capes), and a wise elf. He had seen many hardships come and go over the town he had grown up in, and had created a name for himself as a great swordsman at first...then a great magician...and then a great wiseman and teacher and father, and finally, a lover.

But today he was a wiseman, long nose buried in a book of which you cannot see the cover. It's thick (as all of Aiden's books are!) and from what you can see, covered in a deep green velvet. He turns the page.

Another elf pushed her way into the room, white brows peaked. She was at least, elf in appearance. Mostly. Iilara, in fact, Aiden's lover, was pure drow. Powerful, Iilara at one point in time was a priestess. Her skin was light for a drow-a purplish grey, it almost shimmered with the magic she held. She watched him now, smiling softly at how emmersed he was in the book.

"What're you studying?"

"Hmm?" Aiden glanced up, green eyes settling on the drow before them, "Ah, herbs...I'm thinking of adding a few more to the empty garden space in the corner of my yard.."

Iilara shook her head. For somebody so powerful, Aiden took great interest in some of the most simple pleasures in life. She never understood why, but she never complained, because his simple pleasures made him modest, and she would much rather have him modest than arrogant.

But Aiden had not always been so simple. As a matter of fact, he was much more complicated.

His tale begins after his 100th birthday, over 750 years ago...

Aiden was skinnier too, but lean and quick. He was what many fellow elven considered worthy to be of the 'elite'. Why they had an elite group of warriors seemed pointless to many, but to Aiden it was a chance to get away. And that was precisely what he was to do that very day.

He stood there in line, hair tied back in a braid that only stretched to his mid-back. Were he human, his appearance would be that of a 17 year old boy. Indeed he looked rather awkward with the long sword propped over his shoulder, but he balanced it well. Only two more elves stood in line in front of him, three behind him. They could hear the others that had already registered, tucked inside a rather large looking tent. Sounds of sparring and the occasional blow of a horn emitted whenever somebody would part the flaps of the tent and walk through. Those in line cringed in unison as a couple of healers carried a very charred looking elf from the tent, hurriedly going to where they had their medicine out and ready.

"Almost makes you want to go back home, eh?"

Aiden tilted his head back to observe a very fair-haired elf. He was a good few inches taller than himself, and had navy blue eyes that seemed to be dancing at the thought of the dangers that they could possibly be facing inside of the tent.

"No," Aiden mused, green eyes leveling on the writhing elf before he disappeared with the healers in another tent, "My home is much more dangerous than a few dragon burns."

The taller elf laughed a laugh that reached to his eyes, bangs swaying before his eyes. "I see!" he grinned toothily, "So, are you lying about your age or are you just a late release?"

Aiden's eyes narrowed. Late release was a 'nice' way of stating that he had been forced to stay in his parent's household because he'd not yet found a mate--even though he had come of age. Aiden was far from that..he hadn't even come of age-but it was an insult none the less.

"What business of yours is it?"

The other elf clicked his tongue, chuckling, "So you're just out of your 100s' I'd wager, right? Still have the early temper I see.."

Aiden blinked. He wanted to retort ... but then again, how could he retort when his cover had just been blown?

The other elf beamed.

"My father did the same. Can't complain, wouldn'tve met my mother had he not." He still smiled, "Guess I owe it to him for lyin' to get in, right? Who knows, somebody might owe it to you one day, right?"

Aiden shrugged a stiff shoulder. He hadn't heard a word he said, in fact, he'd been trying very desperately to ignore him.

The elf's smile still didn't waver. In fact, he stuck his hand out.

"Séafra." he smirked, "You are..?"

Aiden blinked, staring down at the hand with mild disgust before hesitantly shaking it.

"Aiden," he muttered.

Séafra shook his hand hard, making Aiden's eyes go wide at the strong grip. "There you are, right. Elite warriors always have a firm grip of course!"

He pulled his hand back, giving a bewildered look up to the blonde elf. "Aye, but I'd wager they don't try to rip off friend's' arms..."

Séafra's grin grew wider. "Friend it is then! Well, friend, you're up!"

Before Aiden could take back his words he got a swift smack to his backside that sent him sprawling over the registration table. An skinny brunette elf gave him a bewildered look before regaining her composure.

"Name and age, sir?"

Aiden pushed himself up, rubbing the chin he'd smacked to the tabletop, "Aiden," he winced as he fingered a new cut he'd accquired as well, "258."

He now sat in his tent, unpacking his things. He'd yet to meet who he'd be sharing his tent with during training and for all he cared he could do well with having the entire tent to himself. To his disgust, however, his roommate did arrive.

"Aiden! Well how about that-how about that!"

Aiden cringed halfway through making his bed.

"Something you want, Séafra?"

The tall and fair elf tossed his belongings down on the bed opposite Aiden's. "Nothing t'all! Aiden, well fancy that will ya? Out of five hundred new elite members and you and I get a tent together, amazing isn't it? Fate must have a pretty strong say in things, guessin' friends was a good choice of words, eh?"

Aiden kept his head bent over his bed, his back to Séafra. He was just about to spin on him and use what force he could to put the noisey elf in his place when a long bass blow of a horn seemed to float over the camp. Séafra's brows raised before he immediately poked his head out the front flap of his tent.

"Well, I'll be! I thought I knew that horn!"

Aiden, more out of curiousity, poked his head out as well, brows arched when he saw a few horses with elven riders heading their way between the rows of tents. Just a few of the elder elite, Aiden mused, but then he noted the white horse in the middle of them, it's rider just as pale with long strawberry blonde hair in a braid down her back. It was at this point Aiden noted Séafra was blatantly staring at the rider.

"Who's that?" Aiden asked, his tone unamused.

"Who's..." Séafra gave Aiden an appalled look, "You don't know who that is? Gods, Aiden, that's the Lady Keena!" Séafra lowered his voice a bit, "Her family is the most well known and wealthy in Underhill! Their only rival clan are among the dark elves--been in a forever feud y'know, terrible mess it is. Rumors are sayin' these two families could put both sides of Underhill into a horrible war just with their feuds!"

Aiden had stopped listening, watching the rest of the horses trail by and down the path.

"Right .." Séafra cleared his throat, "Perhaps we should finish unpacking..."

"Aiden?"

"Hmm..?" But he didn't look up.

"Aiden," the voice repeated, "I've got news..."

Aiden flipped to the next page, still not looking up. "Well, out with it then, Séafra."

The taller elf sighed, giving a mild look of irritation to Aiden before stepping into view. He was not alone.

A slender elf with long wavy strawberry-blonde hair stepped in beside him, navy blue eyes adjusting to the handfire light before focusing on Aiden. They, were Aiden to look up and notice, both soaked.

"I'm assuming this is who you've been sneaking out to see then, Séafra?"

Séafra took a long pause, brows arching as if meaning to ask 'how the hell did you know that' to the younger, but he slowly shook his head, chuckling.

"You're an observant twit for somebody who never pays attention."

Aiden smirked a little, looking up, "You do realize that's an oxymor--dear gods, Lady Keena?"

Aiden found himself standing out of respect for the lady, more or less shocked to see her here.

"That would be me, I'd hope," She smiled, offering a hand. Aiden humbly took her hand, shaking it lightly.

"I wanted you to be the first to know, Aiden, we're to be wed.."

Aiden's brows shot up, "You've been seeing each other for THAT long??"

The other two elves simply smiled. Aiden refrained from letting his jaw drop.

"It's not to be known to the public," she smiled again, "I'd much appreciate it if you would keep our secret?"

Aiden nodded, but nothing really seemed to be registering. How on earth could somebody as .... well, hells, how the hell could Séafra land with a lady of all beings?

"We've also come to ask you to be our witness, if the position fits, Aiden," beamed Séafra. Keena smirked, nodding her agreement with him.

"I...witness? Then it's to be inoccupied by others?"

Séafra nodded and Keena gave a look of puzzlement before it seemed to dawn on her what Aiden was saying, "Oh! Of course! Yes, a private wedding."

Aiden nodded, "All right then, should I bring anything? Would you prefer-"

"Please, no more questions tonight," Keena smiled, looking frazzled, "We'll tell you what we need later!"

Séafra grinned widely, "Come, I'll escort you back to your manor.."

Keena nodded, politely bowing to Aiden before stepping out. Séafra flashed two thumbs up to Aiden before following her...and Aiden sat...and chuckled, refraining from erupting with laughter.

"They fit," he whispered to himself, "One's overly-boysterous and one's a well-disguised airhead."

The wars continued for many more years to come, constantly slowing and then exploding in horrendous battles. Over time Keena gave birth to a boy, which she and Séafra named Lenawn. He looked just as his mother with his father's hair..and as the years grew on came to be more like his father in brains, but much more stubborn than either parents. Aiden grew fond of him--more or less because he reminded him of himself. It wasn't long before he found himself to be the sole guard for the three nobles he had, strangely enough, learned to call friends.

Séafra had come to his cabin just outside the manor late one night, eyes looking worried. Aiden, who looked more of a grown elf than he had when he had first met Séafra, put down his quill and parchment and pulled open the door to his cabin.

"Something wrong?"

Séafra stepped inside, brows furrowed. The years of warring had done a lot to his face, and even though it would never show wrinkles, it certainly looked aged.

"I need to speak to you of Lenawn, if it's all right?"

Aiden nodded, closing the door behind the Lord and motioning for him to sit. The worn figure settled at the table as Aiden went about getting something warm for him to drink, crushing herbs in a pestal and mixing them with boiling water before setting them before him.

"He's coming of age rapidly," a proud smile slowly turned to a frown, "Battles are getting worse, Aiden, and I fear for Keena and my lives daily."

Aiden listened, brows furrowed, "Séafra, You know I've vowed to keep you three safe, and I've every intention of doing so."

Séafra smirked a bit before leaning back in his chair a little, scrubbing a hand over his face, "I know. But, should something happen to me or Keena, I want to ensure that Lenawn stays safe...which brings me to you, Aiden."

"Look, I told you I won't let harm come to you.."

"Aiden, please, listen to me. You cannot predict the future, no matter how good your skills are." Séafra seemed to be getting impatient now, a very rare emotion expressed from him. "I want to ask a favor of you, Aiden. Should something happen to Keena or myself, watch him? Teach him? I want him to learn from the best."

The last note struck a chord in Aiden, and he knew better than to argue with flattery ... not to mention that the most honorable favor had been asked of him.

"Séafra," he stated, almost humbly, "I would be honored to."

"Sir Aiden!" he choked and fell to his knees, "Sir, I have news from the treaty! News for Lord Séafra!"

Aiden headed over hastily, lifting the parchment from his hands, "I'll bring it to him immediately," he glanced up, motioning to the guards, "Give him some food and a bath--tend to his wounds."

With that he turned and strode up the stairs, fingers clenching around the parchment. He knew that Séafra had been awaiting news from his wife at the treaty for days now, and the silence from the messengers was little help for the Lord's nerves. A gloved hand lifted and knocked firmly on the large oak doors to Séafra's room.

"Come in," a wary voice sounded after a few moments.

Aiden pushed into the room, closing the door behind him. He then headed over to where Séafra was bent over maps and plans, cleared his throat, and placed the rolled parchment before him.

"News from the treaty," said Aiden, barely above a whisper.

Séafra's head snapped up immediately, and before a word could be spoken, the parchment was hastily unrolled and dark blue eyes were searching the lettering quickly. According to Aiden hours seemed to pass before Séafra settled the parchment down, eyes wide...face blank of any emotion.

"Séafra...?" Aiden heard himself speak, "What is it..?"

But there was no response. Séafra simply stood, crumpled the parchment and marched to his closet, immediately dressing in his leather and bone armor.

"Séafra--what in heavens are you doing? Sir, please, sit--"

"Don't--Aiden---Don't tell me what to do!"

' Aiden silenced, staring at Séafra bewilderedly as he began to pack a bag. It was only a few seconds before he was headed toward the door, hollering for a guard to grab his horse. He then turned to Aiden, eyes looking red-rimmed before they hardened.

"Watch Lenawn."

And then he was gone, and Aiden was alone. He had the urge to chase after, but something told him to stay. Curiousity overcame him, and he turned, picking up the parchment and carefully pulling it from the wad it was to a crinkled piece of paper. He began to feel the shock that Séafra showed as he read it's writing.

Aiden pursed his lips, brows furrowing as he said a silent prayer for his lost friend.

"That'll be all for today, Lenawn."

There wasn't much more he could say--Lenawn was nearly of age and he and Aiden both knew what had to be done...but no words could express it.

When Lenawn was old enough to take his father's footsteps, Aiden stepped aside. He never felt it rightly to be his place at the head of a kingdom and knew that what little Séafra had taught him was enough to give Lenawn the start of his life that he needed.

Years flew by, and Aiden found himself in his late 400's when Lenawn brought home his wife, Siobhan, an elven girl equal in age and height with long wavy light blonde hair and green eyes. They wed in a private ceremony and not even two years into the marraige their son, Kevley was born. He had the looks of his grandfather (Something Aiden mused to himself often when watching him with his horses at an early age), but his sharp navy blue eyes resembled his father's. Soon after came Keelin, named after her grandmother for her looks were just as similar, but her hair was that of her mother's.

Aiden still fought and his magic and skills with a sword became stronger in his age. Yet, still loyal to their family, Aiden also taught Keelin and Kevley in their early years. It was remarkable to him how quickly Keelin learned. While she could do some of the most difficult spells, she also proved to be an excellent marksman with a bow and arrow.

Kevley, however, was a completely different matter. It occurred to Aiden that Kevley was a mix of his grandfather and grandmother. He had the skills to plan battle tactics that were unrivaled and was quickly growing to be a better swordsman than his own father. Unfortunately, his skills in magic only resided in healing--which came slowly with constant need to use them. Aiden also noted Kevley to be a bit of a slow learner...and very inarticulate when it came to conversation not involving horses or battle tactics.

It came a few years down the road when Kevley reached about 70 that the battles died down and peace finally seemed not that far out of reach.

Lenawn took the opportunity to lean forward, folding his hands where his empty plate once settled. "Aiden, I believe peace is in reach, you know?" he spoke with a smile, an almost triumphant look in his eyes, "We've even received gifts from the other side, Lord--oh what's the new one now? Teirnan? He's offering peace."

"You've been accepting gifts from the enemy, Lenawn? Even though your troops guard the borders?"

A look of irritation crossed Lenawn's face before he shook it off, smiling. "I believe this Teirnan is true to his word, you know. Has a right set of mind unlike that last ruler there," he said with a wave of his hand. Aiden seemed a little uncomfortable with how relaxed Lenawn seemed.

"Lenawn, shouldn't you be more careful when dealing with the enemy?"

"Come now, Aiden, we're talking about a chance at peace, would you seriously shoot it down?"

"No, but I wouldn't go walking blindly into something that might be too good to be true."

Lenawn's mouth slid into a stubborn frown, eyes taking in Aiden slowly before drawing in a breath. "My friend, the times of constant warring are over--things of you and father's time. Not of mine. I'm different than he is, you know," Lenawn seemed to pride that fact, but the edge of irritance was still there in his voice, "I won't go warring with the drow and the dark elves if we've a chance of peace, breaking treaties and such."

"Might I remind you that you wouldn't be born if a treaty wasn't broken. Your mother was to be wed to 'that last ruler', but she married whom she loved instead."

"Old thinking, Aiden, old thinking. Times are new--there aren't any..betrothed marriages of the sort--Teirnan and I have been speaking of that, making sure it's not a problem, see?"

"You refer to him as if he's a close friend, Lenawn, I fear you may be letting him too close. Do I have to remind you also that he is responsible for the deaths of hundreds of our people?"

"Such harsh words, Aiden, but think of it, peace is just in our grasp." He smiled thinly as he stood from his chair, pushing it in, "Isn't that what you'd want? To retire peacefully and raise a family? Gods knows you must be tired of watching over ours."

Aiden's eyes narrowed slightly but he refrained from commenting, "I have a family I'm raising--and it seems what I've spent so much time teaching has gone right through one of your pointed ears and out the other without any lingering. Seriously, do you think it so wise to let Teirnan so close to your family? Giving you gifts--you could be walking right into a trap but your idea of peace has you so blind that you won't notice it until it's already cinched around your leg and broken it." Aiden was now standing, green eyes dangerously sharpened on Lenawn.

"I don't believe I'll be walking into any traps--I KNOW what I'm doing, Aiden," Lenawn hissed, turning for the door, "And might I remind YOU of something," he continued, "I am the one who rules here--not you. Were it not for my father you'd be nothing more than an elite guard who probably would have died in battle before I was born."

Lenawn turned to give his final say but found himself flying back into the wall across the entry to his manor. Aiden walked out after him, eyes glowing dimly, his hand lifted and somehow forcefully keeping Lenawn pinned to the wall, his feet dangling inches from the ground.

"Do not tell me where I will be--were it not for me you would've gained the throne before you were ready--you would've been assassinated at the age of 150!" Aiden kept stepping forward towards the bewildered and struggling Lenawn, "I've devoted my life to surving your family--remember that! Remember that the reason I do not HAVE my own family is because I am part of yours and that I raised YOU. I taught you every last drop of magic you know and don't think that they call me the most powerful elf for no reason! Don't you dare disgrace your father's decisions or the way he ruled--remember that he was twice the ruler you've been and at this rate you will ever be!"

Aiden dropped Lenawn to the ground, his own hands shaking with the rage Lenawn had lit in him. Lenawn slowly stood, jaw set, brows furrowed as he watched the older elf before him. A long silence passed before Lenawn turned, slowly making his way up the stairs with a strained mutter of "I'll be seeing my wife now..she'll need me..." before disappearing into his room.

Aiden didn't have a chance to calm down, for within five minutes he heard Lenawn hollering upstairs. Keelin and Kevley both emerged from their rooms, eyes wide at the shouts. Aiden knew to well that the shouts were not in anger...but in fear. He took the stairs three at a time and shooed the children back before opening the door. Nothing could prepare him for what he saw and it threw him into such a state of shock that he forgot to keep Kevley and Keelin from pushing into the room.

Before him Lenawn was crouched on the floor over Siobhan, who was pale and crumpled on the floor. Lenawn held her necklace in his hands, eyes glowering in hatred and dispair.

"Poisoned...!" he choked, pinching his eyes shut, "Gods help me, Tiernan, you will die for this!"

Keelin seemed to take her mother's death worse than Kevley--and seemed to understand it more as well. Kevley went quiet whenever she was spoken of, and Aiden had a feeling that he was holding his own vigil deep inside where even he couldn't reach. Keelin however, was out at her mother's grave every morning before anybody woke (except for Aiden) leaving bundles of flowers for her. He could over hear her sometimes speaking to her, expressing her worry for her father and how she's doing in her studies. Aiden mused that even after her mother's death, Keelin was still striving to impress her.

A few months went by and Lenawn finally emerged from his study. He was thin, and his demeanor was faltering. His sharp eyes, however, locked on Aiden the moment he saw him.

"Aiden, I'm leaving," he stated abruptly from the doorway to Aiden's room (At Séafra's absense he had moved from his small cabin to a room just inside the entry of the manor.), "Take care of my children."

Aiden's brows shot up, he'd heard similar words before. "Don't leave them like this, Lenawn--you know how hard it is to grow with your parents gone--don't do the same to them..."

Lenawn didn't seem to hear him, "I'm going to kill him...before he attacks us, I'm going to kill him," he stated, half in a mumble, "I'll be getting my horse now ... you take care of them, Aiden, tell them I love them. I'll come home...promise that..."

Before Aiden could protest, Lenawn had practically charged down the stairs, demanding things of his guards. Aiden wanted to stop him...but he watched, painfully, as Lenawn mounted his horse outside and charged off towards the South.

The message seemed to puzzle the elite, but Aiden sighed, closing his eyes and massaging his temples before dismissing him. Once again he was faced with raising children that were not his own.

All he could do was pray the unsettling peace would last long enough.

Once, deep in the night Aiden was experimenting with bardic spells when he ran across one that was quite unexpected. As he spoke the words in ancient elvish ("Uusi kapu!") a large portal swirled open before him, and seemed as tempermental as the heavy clouds that are weighted down with thunder and thick rains. He contemplated it...and closed it...only to return and revive it a few nights later. He went on like this for a few weeks, arguing with himself whether or not to see the other side until he finally convinced himself it wouldn't be much harm. Using his flute he pulled the portal open. Once on the other side he murmured an invisibility spell and closed the swirling portal. Nothing could have prepared him for the shock he was to receive.

Above and around him were giant stone and marble buildings and strange carraiges that were encased with metal, speeding noisily down long strips of a peculiar type of stone. Aiden felt a pressuring headache come on as he neared some of the buildings and the carraiges ( to elves, iron and steel can be the cause of death or severe illness ), and found himself taking refuge in an alley between two of the buildings. The language on the signs were very similar to the human language of Underhill, with a few differences. Aiden's knowledge in languages helped him to come to conclusions with some of the signs, and began to find it rediculous that some stated words such as "stop" ("Who on earth needs to be reminded to stop? Can't these people do that without being told?") or "No standing" ("Standing is forbidden? So you have to sit here..? How strange this place is...").

Aiden spent hours exploring this new village--or city as saw some signs state clearly--and found himself back in his alley after a while. It was then that he sensed something completely irregular (at least to this world, he'd noticed) in the air. A sense of magic radiating from the building he stood by.

"Damnit, get out of the way! The whore deserves it!!"

Aiden's brows furrowed as he heard shouts rise from the building. Taking a moment, his clothes shimmered to match the residents of the city before he pushed into the building, keeping his invisibility as he slid through the walls. Inside he saw a young human boy of no more than 11 cowering over a woman who was clearly dead or unconscious. Above them stood a man, drunk and swaying on his feet, knife held out. He was shouting and threatening the young boy, gesturing at the woman.

"Move! Or I'll take you with her!"

Before the man could say much more, Aiden had flashed into appearance before them, green eyes narrowed.

"I suggest you leave them be." he said, voice calm.

The man sneered, giving a hard glare at Aiden before turning to him.

"Mind your own fuckin' business--she deserves it!"

Aiden didn't know what happened exactly, but when he recalled back on it his eyes must've sparked or he may have radiated some sort of power, because the man was taking his leave soon after. When he was gone, Aiden knealt down by the boy and, what he could now clearly tell was, his mother. It was all that the boy could do to keep from collapsing in grief at the dead figure in front of him, though Aiden had a sneaking feeling that she probably didn't treat him any better than the man who had just left judging from the bruises he wore.

"What is your name...?" Aiden spoke in the human tongue, hoping that it at least sounded the same here.

"Devnet," the boy managed, and Aiden sighed in relief. He also noted that Devnet's eyes were locked on the flute that was tied around his neck.

Aiden began teaching Devnet what he had learned of Bard magic, and found himself amazed to see how well the boy learned. He had the job of raising yet another child, this one starting out as a skinny boy with wild red hair and sharp blue eyes and growing to a talented bard only inches shorter than himself.

With these friends they'd had many adventures, many trials, and many mournful events. Kevley had wed a half drow named Rislyn, and Keelin had married Devnet in the small time that had passed, and he was filled with grief that Keelin had severed her immortality and given half of her life to Devnet. He never did show her his grief, for he knew she was happy, but deep inside he knew he was grateful for her as well.

And he had met his lover. Iilara had come to him from the same place as Rislyn, and he had helped her escape from an oppressing drow community. This and many other adventures followed, but that, is another story entirely.