The Call

The mists parted as a shadowy form appeared, footsteps muffled by the fog. It paused at the edge of the circle of light cast by the streetlamps. Eyes searched the shadows, as hesitantly it entered the light. Long silver hair gleamed in reflection of the lamps. A hooded cloak hid all else. A slim hand reached out from the folds to draw the hood closer; tucking in the strands of silver that had escaped its cover.

Swiftly the figure wheeled as a sound came from behind. Turning back, the figure hurried to reach the shadows on the other side. Yet the hesitation was costly as the sounds found an echo from in front.

Drawing back the figure took a stance in the center of the light. All around forms took shape at the edge of the shadows. Hands lifted and drew back the cloak's hood, revealing the form within. The sliver hair, the pointed ears and arched brows proclaimed a full-blood elf. The luminescent skin and delicate features proclaimed a female.

Her hands moved swiftly to the many pouches around her waist. Pulling herbs from first one, then another, she quickly mixed them. Uttering words in whispers, she spread the mix over the circle of light and withdrew again to the center. She whispered a chant as she made gestures. All around her the herbs began to glow.

The shadowed forms drew back muttering and cursing. Swiftly she was encircled, though the forms never left the shadows. Her eyes darted here and there seeking a way out. She knew that her spell would not hold long. She only hoped it would be long enough. There was but two hours til daybreak. They could not pursue her then and she was so close to her goal. She waited, drawing in her power, conserving it for the battle to come.

Yet nothing happened. The shadowed forms circled and muttered but none attempted to cross the line into the light. They but waited and watched. She knew this meant their master was close. She could sense him coming closer. His tainted power sickened her. Her head whipped around as she heard him speak.

"Well, well, what have we here?" The creatures parted before a taller form. She shuddered as he stepped to the edge of the light. Hair coal black, ears pointed, brows thin but not arched, all signs of Elvin blood. But the dark skin and long fanged teeth spoke of firbolg blood as well.

Yet his would have been a handsome face if not for the scar traveling from his forehead, down the bridge of his nose and across his cheek. A scar given him by she who bore him as he was birthed. His eyes shown a blazing white and his lip curled in contempt.

"Well, my servants have captured a beauty this time indeed. I must remember to reward them later."

"Be gone, Rystan. You know you cannot hold me. And when the elders find you have interfered with the call, they will hunt you down and end you once and for all."

Rystan flinched as she named him and hissed out her name, "Lythse."

"To late, Rystan. First naming is mine." She sneered.

Rystan withed in anger then as suddenly his face cleared and he smiled. "Indeed, first naming is yours. However, it matters not. As for interfering, why, I'm here to help."

He snapped his fingers and from further back, two forms moved forward dragging a third. As they stepped to the edge of the light she could see them more clearly. They stood but a bare five-foot in height. Coal black hair, eyes black as onyx, skin dark as soot. Full fangs drew their lips back in a permanent sneer. Their clawed hands and wide-splayed feet proclaimed full-blood firbolg. Dangling from their clawed hands, they drug a third. Height was hard to guess as he was pulled closer to the light. Head hanging limply, all that could be seen was the long brown hair and broad shoulders. What she could see of him was ragged and bruised, evidence of the struggle he had made.

Lythse tensed and then forced herself to relax. She could sense without being told that this was the one the call had been leading her to. The pull on her mental barriers was very strong. Yet she dared not reach out to him. She knew that Rystan was waiting for that moment. If she tried, he would seize control of her mind in an instant and force a bonding with her.

This is what happened to she who bore him. His firbolg father had caught her off guard when she had answered the calls years past. Though bonded to him, still she had sought to prevent the birth of the halfling, marking him but dieing in the attempt.

"So, that is what I'm called to," She sneered, "Pathetic thing." Rystan looked shocked for a moment, the firbolg around him muttering as the shifted. The two holding the human loosened their grip and stared at Rystan. This was not going as he had promised them. Unease circled amongst them.

"Pay no attention to her," He called out, "She but tries to mislead us. Make us drop our guard." He turned back to Lythse. "Good try. Almost believable. But you and I both know that the call is pulling you to him."

"Aye," She spat out, "It pulls me, but none have asked if I'm willing to be pulled. Let another fulfill the prophecy. I have no desire to bond with a human. Indeed you have saved me much trouble. No longer do I have to worry over how I can dispose of him without the elders condemning me. Even if I have to do it myself there is enough firbolg stench on him for me to lay it at your bidding. And who do you think they will believe you or me?" She asked with an evil smile.

Again the firbolg growled and muttered. "She lies," Rystan screamed, "She cannot harm the one she's called to."

"You think not? Then just watch." Lythse snarled. Drawing her dagger, she strode towards the pair holding the man. As she neared the edge of the area covered by the herbs, she stopped. "Bring him closer." The look of hatred on her face froze them in place in confusion. "Closer." She hissed. Unwillingly they stepped closer, dragging the human to the edge of the circle. "Stand him up," She commanded. "At least let him die like a man."

The firbolg growled but stood him on his feet. She extended her hand and with the dagger's tip lifted his chin until his face could be seen. Bruises and cuts covered him. A lump on his cheek had swelled upwards to force closed his right eye. His lip was split and bleeding. She snarled as she looked upon him. She let his head drop forward as she drew back her blade to strike. Once, twice her blade darted, cutting not the human but the firbolg holding him. Even as they howled in pain, she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled with all she had. As he fell toward her, she twisted and rolled with him until they were both fully within the circle.

One firbolg was pulled partly within the circle. As he fell across the herbs, his skin began to burn and smoke. An unearthly howling filled the air as he twisted and jerked. As Lythse watched movement slowed and then stopped. Rystan was screaming at all of them to advance and attack but the still smoking body laying at the edge of the circle deterred even the bravest of the firbolg.

Lythse turned her head to look at the human lying beside her. Swiftly she rose and began to access his injuries. Drawing herbs and salves from the pouches at her waist, she began to treat the many cuts and abrasions covering his body. She took two bottles of water from a large pouch and added herbs and powders to both. She set one to the side and sliding her arm beneath his head and raising it, held the second bottle to his lips. Slowly she tipped it, allowing a small amount to trickle into his mouth. Sip by sip she fed it to him. Soon his responses became stronger. Before long he began to twitch and come awake.

Even as he stirred she heard a commotion behind her. Whirling she spotted Rystan lifting a firbolg and throwing him at the circle. The firbolg screamed as he fell across the herbs. The firbolg scattered as he lifted yet another and tossed him, attempting to build a bridge of bodies. Screams and curses filled the air as Rystan commanded his servants to throw themselves across the bodies.

One, either braver or more slow-witted then the others, started running. He crossed the bodies and launched himself. Quickly she snatched up the second bottle and splashed some of the contents in his direction. Everywhere it touched him, his skin burst into flames. Rystan screamed in anger as he watched the remaining firbolg turn and run. He stood, his chest heaving, glaring at Lythse.

"Looks like your alone now." She said, "Your servants seem to have no stomach for fighting. Now why don't you just scamper off after your dogs and creep back into the shadows!"

Rystan threw back his head and bellowed his frustration. "This is not over. I won't allow you to fulfill the prophecy."

"There's nothing you can do to stop it." She exclaimed, "Thanks to you, the search has ended successfully. All I have to do now is wait til daybreak to bond with him."

Rystan glared as he slowly reached down, gathering a blade dropped by the fleeing firbolg. Lythse braced herself as he drew back to throw it. At the last second, his aim shifted and he threw at the man still lying behind her. Lythse lunged to place herself between the flying blade and the human. She cried out as the dagger pierced her flesh, embedding itself in her thigh. She clutched her leg with both hands, blood spurting from between her fingers.

Rystan whirled, searching for another. Lythse knew she could not stop them all. Sooner or later he would get one past her and kill her human. Rystan cried out in triumph as he stooped to lift another. Lythse felt hands snatch her backwards as the human surged forward. She screamed in pain as he pulled the dagger from her leg and with all his strength, threw it just as Rystan turned, burying it to the hilt in his chest. Rystan arched up onto his toes, clutching the hilt with both hands. A look of shock and disbelief crossed his face as his legs gave way beneath him. He crumbled to the ground, twitching once and was still.

Lythse lay where she fell when pushed, unable to even summon the energy needed to stop the bleeding from her wound. She could feel her life force pouring from her. Not far from her, the human kneeled, one hand clutching his head, the other bracing himself. At least he was safe. That was all that mattered. With Rystan gone the next call could be answered without such danger. She felt sadness that her people would have to wait another generation for the prophecy to be fulfilled. Time ran short for them now. Soon it would be too late. There had been such hope for her to be the one.

She heard the human utter a curse as he turned his head and saw her lying there. Quickly he crawled over to her. He pulled the belt from his pants and wrapping it around her leg, twisted it tight to stop the bleeding. She fought back a wave of blackness as the pain overwhelmed her.

"Don't pass out on me now lady. I need some answers here. Who are you and what the hell were those things attacking us? Never seen anything like that in my life. And who was that guy tossing the daggers?"

Lythse shivered as his voice sang in her head. Her control over the call was slipping, her barriers weakening. She fought to contain it, the human must agree first. She could not force this. "Those were firbolg." She whispered. "They were trying to stop me from finding you."

"Me? Why were you looking for me? I've never seen you before in my life. Hell, I've never seen anything like you in my life. What are you and where are we? This isn't my street. Last I remember was walking home and this mist comes up. Next thing I know those things are all over me."

Lythse tried to answer him but her mouth refused to work. Forgive me she thought as her barriers crumbled and the call surged through her. Above her the human stiffened as he felt her mental shaft strike into his mind. He cried out as her mind invaded his. With a roar he lunged away from her. She felt him try to put up a barrier, but his untrained mind was no match. Desperately she tried to stop finally slamming the walls closed in her mind. She cried out as a flash of pain ran through her. It felt as if she had cut off part of her own mind. Her body convulsed as the recoil tore into her. She felt the blackness descending on her again and this time welcomed it.

Greg moaned as he pressed the heal of his hands into his temples. He could sense thoughts and feeling running through his head that had no right's there. Everything was jumbled and incomplete, like a message missing parts. Hearing scuffling sounds, he looked up. He cursed as he saw her convulsing. He staggered back to her side and kneeling, tried to turn her to her side. Her body stiffened and with a final convulsion, fell limp.

With horror, he realized she had stopped breathing. Franticly he felt for a pulse finding it faint and very fast. Even as he found it, it began to slow. Desperately he tilted her head back and pressing his lips to hers began to force air into her. Again and again he pushed breath after breath into her. Even as he fought to bring her back, he couldn't help but notice how soft her lips were. How they seemed to cling to his. Even as the thought consumed him, he felt a movement as she took a small breath. Again he forced air through her lips, allowing his to cling for a second. She took a shuddering breath as her body clenched.

He gasped as she opened her eyes and he fell into the most beautiful blazing green he had ever seen. For a moment they remained unfocused and then came to bear on him. Horror filled her face as she realized who he was. She licked her lips and tried to speak. Coughing seized her as her throat rebelled. Feebly she plucked at a pouch at her waist. Greg opened it and found a bottle with what smelled like water. He held it to her lips and allowed a sip to pass to her. Again she licked her lips and this time managed to whisper.

"Run. Get away... while you can. I don't know..... how long I.. can keep the... walls up."

"I can't leave you here like this! You've lost too much blood. I need to get you to a hospital.

"No," She gasped; " I only need..... to make it... til daylight. The sun.... will heal.... me."

"Nonsense. The sun can't heal a wound like that. You must be in shock. Just lie there til I can get help."

"No. Just run. The barriers.... are falling. I'm too.. weak to.... hold them," She whispered softly; "you have... to get.. away. The bond... must not.... be forced. You have to..... choose it." She groaned as she weakly tried to roll away from him. Firmly but gently he held her down.

"What are you talking about? What bonding and why must I choose?"

"Once... once every generation... a call is heard from... your wor.. world... The one called....... has to answer.... If the caller... is found...and consents.... a bonding... is formed... two... minds... become..." She gasped in pain. "become one......"

"And you're the one answering the call.... But why me...... oh no.. not me. I'm not calling anyone. You got the wrong man. I'm just a nobody, ex-marine."

"You're the one..... called to you... that's... that's why brought you.... use you.... force me bond..... Rystan.... If had ... reached.. out to you.... would have.... taken... mind... rather.... die....." She whispered so softly that he had to lean closer to hear her. "Rystan.... mother... taken so... forced....birth... him....." She started shuddering in pain. "The calllllll...." She cried out. "Run....."

Greg started running without even thinking. At the edge of the light he stopped and looked back. She lay there, shaking and trembling in pain. He felt torn by the decision he had to make. He couldn't just leave her there hurt. She'd die in a short time if he did. But if what he remembered from the thoughts that had invaded his mind was to be believed then his world, the one he belonged in lay through the mist. A mist that would surely clear in the morning light. If he didn't go now then he may never be able to go back. But then again, what did he have to go back to? His career had ended when he started having memory lapses. His girl had walked out with his best friend. All that remained for him was an empty apartment and a lonely life.

Making his choice, he turned back to her. Quickly reaching her side, he grasped her shoulders and shook her. "Stop it. Let them down, your hurting yourself. I choose, do you hear me, I choose. Tell me what to do. How do we bond?"

Lythse barely heard him, the pain of holding her barriers consuming her mind. She felt his hands on her shoulders gripping tightly. One of his hands slid to the back of her head and gently lifted it. At first she couldn't believe it as she felt his lips touch hers, gently at first and then firmer, demanding from her. As she gasped, she felt his tongue slid between her teeth to explore her mouth. With a cry, the barriers collapsed within her mind, her thoughts and feelings flowing into his. This time there was no retreat as his mind surged to join hers. She could sense the excitement building within his body as the kiss deepened. Yet she knew her body couldn't withstand a full bonding now. Reluctantly she eased back, the call still surging through her. Hearing her thoughts, Greg loosed his grip and released her lips. He could feel her mind echoing in his. He knew what must be done now without having to be told.

Gently he slid his arms beneath her and lifting her, began to stride in the direction she had come from. As the mist enveloped them he could feel her reassuring him. Swiftly he strode along. Slowly a glow began to build ahead of him. Bit by bit the mist began to clear. Soon he was striding into a meadow of flowers and grasses. Crossing to the center, he gently lay her down. Removing her cloak, he began to disrobe her. He untied the lacing holding her shirt together and eased it up and over her head. Her beauty took his breath away. Trembling, he reached out and lightly traced the edge of her breast with the tips of his fingers. Moaning, he closed his eyes and forced his need down.

Knowing that he couldn't remove her breeches the same way, he drew her dagger and carefully began to cut them away. He took all but the part around the wound off and then wetting the material over it with the remaining water, he began to peel it back from the cut. He hissed as the bleeding started again, though sluggishly. He knew she could ill afford the loss. Working slowly and carefully, he removed the last piece of the cloth. Gently he wiped the wound and then stepped back so that her entire body was bathed in sunlight.

As the sunlight caressed her, her body began to glow. He watched in amazement as the wound in her thigh began to close. Soon there was but a streak of red and as he watched, even that faded. Her breathing eased as her body healed, the marks of pain leaving her face. Peace settled on her features. His gaze traveled her, from her full, inviting lips, down her graceful neck. Her firm breasts softly shifted with each breath she took. Her ribs tapered into a slender waist, leading to flaring hips. He was surprised to see her mound was hairless. Then looking closer he saw that her body had no hair other then that on her head, brows and lashes. He wondered how she would react to seeing his body. He was as hairy as a bear.

He was startled as she laughed, then grinned as he realized that she could hear what he was thinking. His brow arched up as he allowed what he was feeling to flow through his mind. He watched as her body reacted and knew that the need was consuming her as much as it was he. He chuckled as he saw her blush. He laughed out loud when she sent an image of a bear wearing clothes and dancing in circles. Her laughter joined his as she rolled to face him. His breath caught in his throat at the beauty of her bathed in sunlight. Her laughter stopped as the rush of the need ran through him.

Slowly he stood and began to remove his clothes. Inch by inch his body was revealed. Her eyes followed his hands as her hunger for him grew every minute. Now that she had time to really look at him, she was amazed at what she saw. He stood at least three inches taller then she, with broad, strong shoulders. A deep chest was covered in thick curly hair thinning as it dipped down to his flat stomach, until it was no more than a trail leading below his breaches. Powerful hands gracefully undid the strange fastening and began to push them lower over his trim hips. He paused and her eyes traveled up again until they came to his. Deep blue gazed back at her, deeper then the sky above and glowing with heat. His hair hung just past his shoulders in waves of brown. Sky and earth together brought to life for her. Her hunger fed on the hunger in his mind. She let her eyes travel back down to see that he had slid his breaches to his feet. His manhood stood out, throbbing and full. Her body ached to feel him in her.