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DranZail Gildenfyre

Elf Male
Not affiliated with an Alliance
Elf Male Character Portrait

I am a friendly fellow but I do adhere to the 10sq harvest rule so if you want to harvest within my domain I ask that you give me the courtesy of asking first. Most times I will agree. Within 5sq never!

The link below is to my YouTube cooking channel. Feel free to visit it and if you have any requests just shoot me a msg.

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCCc2xmVXCHUVHwp9rWgKirQ

 

                  Lights Dark Child 

  

"Freak!” maybe. 

"Half Breed!" always. 

"Monster!" NEVER! 

Conceived from rape, born into hate. That has been my life's motto since my earliest memory. Children can be the cruelest because they are the most honest, it's not until we grow older that we learn to lie to ourselves and others. 

My name is Dran`Zail Gildenfyre and this is my story. It was the night of Salinus, the holiest of nights for the Goddess Chauntea. The tiny village waited every year for this night for not only did it bless their crops for another year but it also brought the reclusive priestess of nature out of her sacred grove. 

Rainorial was said to have been blessed by the gods with a beauty that borders on mystical. The legend spread far and wide about the beautiful priestess until the temple was constantly harassed by throngs of people wishing to gaze at the god's crafted beauty. Seeing how this disrupted the worship in the temple she left and disappeared into a mystical sacred grove the Goddess gave to her as a refuge, only to appear once a year to bless the crops of the farmers across the land.  

As the night wore on and the ceremony reached its pinnacle a band of Drow, an evil race of elves self-exiled into the bowels of the world only to surface to kill any and all surface dwellers they can and the death of their goodly surface cousins even better attacked the ceremony. As the massacre continued a lone Drow spotted Rainorial, and as he looked at her the magic of her beauty captured him but instead of love, a feeling his kind would never understand, a lust overpowered him and he raped her right there in the blood covered ground among the screams of the dying. At the same time, a wizard from a rival house saw the opportunity to rid his house of another enemy and blame it on the chaos of battle. Casting a powerful fireball at the lust-crazed elf and his hapless victim they were both consumed by the fire. 

Many days passed before anyone discovered the massacre of the tiny village. During the removal of the bodies, Rainorial was discovered under the charred body of her attacker, protected from the flames, in part, by her attacker, and in part by the magical ring gifted to her one day by a traveler she aided. She was alive but in such a state of shock that she was unresponsive. The rescuers returned her to her temple not knowing what else to do with the comatose elf. 

It wasn’t long before the priests realized that she was with child. Knowing that she carried the child of the evil Drow, the high council of the temple decided to return her to her sacred grove, afraid of what a disruption a child of evil would bring to their temple, with a lone acolyte to care for her.  

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                            

 

                 Chapter 1: Birth  

 

  

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                          

 Sister Lizbet rode in the back of the wagon with the comatose Rainorial, still confused by the one-sided conversation High priestess Marrus had with her earlier that day. The priestess points to a chair, “Have a seat my dear.”, Lizbet sits in one of the two chairs in front of the Matron Mother’s desk. She looks around at the lavish room amazed at all the books and paintings on the wall, she looks at the Matron Mother, Marrus was said to be in her late sixties but looked as if she were no more than forty but her eyes held many decades of experience, her lips were thin and never seemed to smile. Lizbet was always a bit fearful whenever Sharilendill’s gaze settled on her. Lizbet starts to sign a question but is cut off by Sharilendill, “Don’t bother girl, you know I never learned that hand-waving speech of yours besides I know you can read lips, I will speak slow so pay close attention. The council has decided that you are to take Rainorial back to her grove and continue to tend to her till the babe is born.”. Sharilendill stops to make sure her words were understood to which Lizbet nodded that she understood. 

“Good. Now every other week we will send a wagon with supplies and anything you request. When the baby is born you will take this rose and blow on it and we will know.”, Marrus hands Lizbet a small ornate wooden box, inside the box was a red silk rose. Pulling out a scratch of paper Lizbet scribbled down “What will become of the babe?” 

“That is of no concern to you! You will do as told, now go girl, and prepare!”, and was dismissed. 

The ride to the grove took three days, on the third day as they approached a rock wall the driver turned and said something to Lizbet but he spoke too quickly for her to read his lips, next thing she knew they were going straight into the wall and then they were through it. They were surrounded by a gray mist so she could not make out any discernible shapes. Eventually, she could see the shoes of trees around her and after an hour she could see a light up ahead. As soon as they passed out of the mist Lizbet looked back and could see a great forest covered in mist and a vague trail showing the way they came but could only see as far as 10 feet. After her eyes adjusted to the light in the glad, she was amazed at what was in front of her. 

They entered the glade from its west side, 50 yards in front of them was a simple one-story cottage, to the north, a small stream came out of the mist running the perimeter of the glade with a small orchard of various fruit and nut trees, the stream cut through the glade to run behind the cottage where a willow tree, the biggest Lizbet was sure she saw, was and continue to run through to the east and disappears back into the mist. When they reached the cottage, the drover looked over at Lizbet again and started to speak. Before he could get started, she stopped him and patiently with various gestures explained she was deaf but if he spoke slowly, she could read his lips. It took a few minutes for it to sink in and all of a sudden, he breaks into a strong laughing fit. Worried Lizbet asked if he was ok, after a few more minutes of laughing he stopped and slowly said “Curse me for a fool lass, you haven’t spoken to me for three days now and ignored me, or so I thought, any attempt I made to strike a conversation up.”. He laughs again, “Here I thought I done offended you in some way and you hated me”. And bursts out in laughter again, this time joined by Lizbet. 

 After they had finished unloading Rainorial and supplies the drover introduced himself as “Biroke” and showed her around the glade slowly explaining what each tree was and where to fetch water from the stream, it was strange she thought that a mere drover would know so much about this place and said as much. “Aye I have been bringing Rainorial her supplies for nigh onto 6 years now.”, a moment of sadness showed in his eyes, and just as quickly it was gone but Lizbet could still feel it. Lizbet slayed her hand on Biroke’s arm and motioned back to the cottage and made the motion of eating. “Aye lass I could use some food.”.  Thankful for the interruption they headed back to the cottage. The next day Lizbet bade farewell to Biroke and her new life started. 

 Life was peaceful in the glade for Lizbet. Rainorial never moved and her pregnancy seemed to be progressing smoothly. Every day was the same: feed and bathe Rainorial, gather the nuts and berries the plants provided and daily prayers, except for the days Biroke came with their supplies. 

Being born deaf never bothered Lizbet, she felt it kept the distractions of the world out and allowed her a deeper connection with her Goddess. One day as she was gathering berries, she stopped to get a drink in the small creek running through the small copse of trees where she often sits and enjoys watching the small creatures skitter through the underbrush when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stand on end. Standing in front of her was a woman in a white dress, all around her the plants glowed and a feeling of peace overwhelmed Lizbet. This was Chauntea, her Goddess! 

"Calm child," a voice said. 

Lizbet, shocked by the fact she heard the voice, looked around and then back to Chauntea. Using a language of hand gestures, the high priests taught her, she signed, "Praise Chauntea! It's a miracle! I can hear!" 

Chauntea chuckled, "No child. That is not your lot, I am afraid." 

Lizbet frowned. 

"Don't be sad, child,” Chauntea continued. “What some may consider a curse you have turned into a blessing. You hear what the heart says instead of what its words say. That is a gift beyond measure. Now, I must ask you to use that gift and hear the heart of the babe and nurture the goodness that is there." 

"But my Goddess, it is a child of evil. It is a child of the Drow." 

Chauntea frowned and the air around her seems to darken, "Is he not also a child of the goodly elves? Is not his mother not only a good and kind soul but also a favored of mine?!"  

Frightened, fearing she angered the deity, Lizbet fell to her knees, weeping. "Forgive me. I am just an ignorant mortal!" 

Chauntea's frown softened, "Rise my dear child. We have much to discuss and my time in your realm is short. Come, walk with me and we shall speak." 

Lizbet dutifully followed Chauntea, listening as her deity continued. "The child has a great destiny, but alas it will not be in this world. That is however neither of our concerns. The mother will never rise so it will fall onto you to raise him." 

Lizbet's hand seemed to blur as she signed, "Him? It’s a boy? How am I to raise a child? I don't know how to raise a child." 

The two stopped at the bed upon which Rainorial was lying. Chauntea laid her hand upon the swollen belly. "Her time is soon, come here child." 

As Lizbet steps closer Chauntea placed her other hand on the woman's head. For a moment Lizbet felt a warm sensation envelope her body and then a blinding pain that brought her to the brink of darkness. In the darkness she heard a voice..., "My time in this realm is done, but know this, The Glade is now linked to you. When you pass from this world so too shall The Glade. Teach Dran`Zail to survive in this world for the lives of another world will depend on it." The voice chuckled before continuing. "I have given you some gifts that will help you. Beware for while this glade will protect you and the boy, you must be wary. There are always other forces watching who would see this child destroyed!" 

Then the darkness took her. Sister Lizbet awoke with a start, at first not sure of where she was. The only thing of which she was fully aware was a buzzing in her brain. It was not painful, but it was a persistent buzzing. As her mind focused, she looked around and saw that Rainorial was screaming and instantly knew the time was at hand. The baby wasn’t going to wait any longer. In a flash, Lizbet was at her side with a potion. While not relieving the pain, a little pain was needed for the birth to happen, it would dull the pain to a tolerable level. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Lizbet caught some movement outside the window. A spider the size of three cottages with poison dripping from its enormous fangs, was moving at great speed toward the cottage that she and Rainorial were in. Time seemed to stand still for a moment..., then a flash of fur streaked by, and suddenly, everything happened at once. The buzzing in her head intensified and she knew that the baby was coming.  

With no other thought toward what was happening outside, she turned back to Rainorial in time to see the head of the baby cresting. In a matter of moments that seemed simultaneously like it was stretching on for an eternity, the baby was out and she didn’t know whether to be horrified or amazed.  

He, for it was definitely a boy-child, had a long white mane of hair with what looked like golden streaks scattered throughout giving it the appearance of dancing golden flames. The word “Gildenfyre” echoed in her mind. A name and she nodded in understanding. She smiled, briefly, at the humor of the gods. His eyes were two ice-cold blue sapphires, but it was his skin that shocked her the most. His skin was not like an ebony darkness that drank the light like a Drow, but it was a dark gray like the darkest thunderstorm clouds, almost as if the dark and the light battled to see which would dominate.  

When she finally was able to tear her gaze away from the baby and check on the child’s mother, she saw that Rainorial was no longer breathing. The words of Chauntea came back to her at that moment: The mother will never rise. Suddenly, Lizbet remembered the giant spider and ran to the window to look. Outside, the ground is broken and torn from what looks to have been a great battle, but no spider is evident.  

On the other hand, however, there were six great wolves howling, their faces lifted to the sky. While she could not hear them, she could feel the vibrations from their deep-throated howls. Without knowledge or thought, she went to the door and opened it before stepping outside. 

In front of her stood the largest wolf she had ever seen, standing ten-foot-tall at the shoulders, and yet she sensed no danger and felt no fear. The wolf gently sniffed the baby and licked him. Dran`Zail’s little hand reached out and touched the giant wolf’s nose. The wolf turned its attention to the cottage and Sister Lizbet nodded. The wolves started to howl again..., and she knew that it was a mourning cry for Rainorial. 

Just as sudden as it started, it ended and the pack's Alpha walked a few yards away underneath the huge willow tree behind the cottage, where it started digging a hole. Moments later, another wolf, smaller than the first, joined in and soon they had a hole big enough for the body of Rainorial. 

Going back into the cottage, Lizbet put the babe in a bassinet and prepared the body of the baby’s mother for burial. The body of the woman for whom she had been caring for the last nine months. When she came outside the cottage with the body, the clearing was empty. Other than the ground being dug up and the hole under the willow tree, there was no sign of the wolves.                                                                                                                                                                      As soon as she was done burying Rainorial, Lizbet felt an odd sensation in the pit of her stomach as if she was hungry but she knew that she wasn’t.  Turning back to the cottage Lizbet wondered what she was going to do about the baby when the second pang of hunger hits her. This time stronger and somehow more persistent. When she entered the room she went to check on Dran’Zail, he was laying there in his bassinet calmly looking up at her with those piercing sapphire blues eyes as if he were staring deep into her soul, and then the hunger pang hit again but this time it was so insistent she nearly doubled over. All of a sudden, she knew it wasn’t her that was hungry but the babe was. “How foolish!”, “How selfish!” She thought. Frantic Lizbet looks around for something to give Dran’Zail but she thought she had more time so hadn’t thought to have Biroke bring something for the baby to eat, nor did she expect Rainorial to die either.  

“Oh, Goddess what am I to do?” She signed. “He is in need of food….”, just then another hunger pain hit. “Gods the pain,” she thought, frantically she looks through the cabinets and pantry looking for something suitable to feed a newborn, all the while mentally praying that she finds something. After what seemed an eternity she looks over at the table by the bassinet and a pitcher filled with a white liquid is sitting there, along with a bottle to feed a baby. An amused voice in her head says “I said this place was attuned to you child. You can change this place to suit you, but there are always limits to magic.”, “While you cannot make a great castle, you can create minor changes to make life more comfortable. Just focus on what you want but be warned every time you make a change it will take a small part of your life-force. There is always a price for great magic, always remember that child. Remember also there are many forces who wish ill and harm to the child so be careful who you trust”, and just as suddenly the voice was gone. 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         **************************** 

 

 

“The birth should be upon us soon. You shall inform us when that happens. Is that clear?” 

Standing in front of  Marrus, Biroke shifts his weight from foot to foot uneasily “Aye Matron Mother you shall be the first one to know.” 

She could never tell if the drover was sincere or not but doubted this simpleton was capable of anything as complex as sarcasm. “Leave me now and attend to your duties and forget not your orders….” 

Without letting her finish Biroke bows and rushes out of the office hurriedly.  

Unnoticed by the drover as he rushed out a small shadow in the corner behind Marrus moves in an unnatural way, “Will he obey?” A raspy voice whispers after the door closes. 

“If he knows what is best for him, he will!”, after a few moments “Besides that slow fitted girl will do as she was told, of that I am sure. The church is the only family she has ever known. She won’t betray it.” 

“Any and all attempts to locate the glade have failed and even your pitiful attempts at following the supply wagon have failed!” the voice whispers harshly. 

A part of the shadow elongates into a tentacle and strokes Marrus’s cheek “The Mistress demands this Child's life, it is an abomination.”, suddenly it wraps around her throat and slowly starts to squeeze. "The Mistress has given you all that you wanted, if it doesn’t die then you will.” And suddenly the shadow was gone and the Matron Mother could breathe again but the message had been understood. 

Walking to the nearby window Marrus watched as Biroke drove his wagon through the gate, rubbing her throat her only thought was, “The Child must die!” 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        **************************** 

 

 

Lizbet was working in the newly created garden when she felt a tingling in the back of her mind and somehow knew someone was entering the glade. After a few tense moments, she sees Biroke and his wagon comes into view and a wave of relief floods over her. Lizbet was happy to see her friend, it made her sad whenever he had to leave after his visits. She had been slowly teaching him how to sign and speak to her so that they could communicate easier and was impressed at the speed he picked it up. Waving she waited for the drover to reach her then she jumped up on the wagon and gave the burly man a hug. At that moment all the emotions she had held in check flooded her and she wept uncontrollably. As she wept in his arms, Biroke looked around taking stock of the changes in the area. The biggest was the torn-up ground in front of the cottage, for a moment he feared the worst then he heard a baby cry from the cottage, and relief replaced the fear. When Lizbet finally stopped crying she looked up at Biroke and smiled touching the tips of her fingers of her right-hand palm facing inward to her chin and motioned them away from her “Thank you.”.  

“You're welcome.” he signed back, “What has happened here lass?”, he motions to the torn-up ground. Lizbet motions him to the cottage and pulls him to it. Once inside the first thing he notices, is that the interior has changed. Instead of a one-room cottage, it has grown and had what looked to be several rooms as well as a full kitchen area and pantry. The second thing he noticed was the bassinet sitting in the center of the living area. He looks back questionably at Lizbet who slowly smiles and nods. She motions for the man to have a look. Watching Biroke approach the bassinet waiting to see his reaction, Lizbet hopes her trust in the drover is well placed. Since meeting the drover, she has grown fond of him, looking to him almost as a father figure. Not taking her eyes off him she waits almost holding her breath and when he reaches the bassinet, she sees him tense but only for a moment then she can see his shoulders relax. He turns back to Lizbet with a serious expression on his face. “Tell me everything that has happened. It seems things have been a bit busy in just a Meer week.” he signs haltingly, still trying to master a language in a short time that she has spent her whole life using. While the baby slept Lizbet tells Biroke all that has transpired in the last few days. After she finishes, Biroke slowly nods and motions to the interior of the cottage, “You're doing?”. 

“Yes, I thought a few changes were needed if I am to raise Dran myself.” 

“Dran is it?” Biroke says with a grin. 

“Yes, Dran for short but his full name is Dran’Zail Gildenfyre as the goddess has decreed.” She replies holding her head up high as if to dare the man to argue the point. 

“Aye a fine strong name it is too,” he says holding his hands up in mock defense. After unloading the wagon Biroke shows Lizbet the goats he brought and says “Good thing I thought to bring these. Now you have a steady supply of milk for the wee one.”. Looking at the 3 goats Lizbet nods, “They are a good thing but where shall we house them?”, “I could create a pen for them”. 

“Nay lass I will build one for them along with a place for myself as well”. 

“You…” after a long pause “…are staying?” 

“Aye lass there is no way I can leave you two here alone and unprotected.”, he then proceeds to tell her of his meeting with Matron Mother Marrus. “That woman means that baby no good or I’m a beardless dwarf., I’m telling ya. I have never trusted that woman, something about her gives me the willies!” 

With a look of concern, Lizbet asks "Won't you get into trouble if you stay?” 

“Nay lass my loyalty is to Rainorial not any church, mine is a  loyalty earned not expected.”, after putting the goats into a makeshift pen the pair went back into the cottage and as they put things away Biroke continued, “Many years ago my mate and I were adventurers.”, he chuckles at the look of surprise on Lizbet’s face, “Aye I haven’t been a drover my whole life lass, we were very successful at one time then my companions and I ran into something bigger than ourselves, a Lich Lord killed them all save my love and myself but not unscathed. Sylaviar was cursed with a wasting disease and I was severely wounded. For days we wandered the wilds delirious from fever, most of it I still don’t remember to this day. I just know we somehow ended up here at Rainorial’s doorstep. She took us in and did her best to heal my wounds and to cure my dearest. Alas in the end all she could do was ease her pain. Sylaviar lasted for several months before it took her but thanks to Rainorial she was in no pain. Since then I have aided Rainie and now I will aid her child.” He said leaving no room for argument. “I have foiled every try at following me to this place, but I do not think I can do it much longer, especially now that the child is born.”

Lizbet nodded and at the same time Biroke looked at Dran, she felt a pang of hunger and knew he had awoken. Without thought, she got up and went to the cabinet where the last of the milk was and brought him his bottle.

Biroke stared in astonishment, when she looked at him questioningly he responded “You can hear now?”

“No” she signed then held her finger up to postpone any other questions until after the baby ate.

While she fed the baby Biroke smiled as he watched. Amazed at how quickly this young girl of no more than 16 quickly took to mothering a newborn. She was a beautiful girl by all accounts; long curly red hair, pale skin with almond-shaped green eyes, when she smiled it was contagious, her only flaw (which in his eyes was not a flaw but an advantage) was that she could neither hear nor speak, but she had a way of reading a person and seeing into their heart that more than made up for anything else. If Sylaviar had lived this is the daughter he hoped they would have had. He wiped the tear forming before Lizbet could notice.

After she was finished feeding him she then made Biroke hold Dran while she rearranged his bassinet and then burst into a fit of laughter when she saw how utterly terrified he was of holding a baby. “He won’t break!” she signed, then showed him the way to hold a baby and went back to what she was doing.

Biroke was absolutely amazed at how Dran stared at him almost as if he were judging him, then for the briefest of moments he thought he saw the baby smile at him but he wasn’t sure. Dran’s tiny hands played with the burly man’s beard, gently tugging it. For a moment Biroke was lost in Dran’s eyes, feeling as if he were floating free of worries then the sound of Lizbet clearing her throat brought him back to reality. Handing the baby back to her, he waited for an explanation. The only thing that came to her mind was it was one of the “gifts” she was given.

“Gift indeed. How much of a gift will it be when he gets older, eh? Elf or not he is a “he” after all.”

Smiling at the man’s point and his sense of humor she signs “To be honest I really don’t know to what extent it goes, nor do I know if it works in reverse. We shall just have to wait and see I guess.”

Biroke nods and says “Very well it is settled then, I will be staying. First thing in the morning I will take the wagon and dispose of it.”

“Wait? What? Why and won’t we still need it?”

“Fear not lass. We cannot be sure that it can’t be tracked back here by magic of any kind. I remember watching old Ridge using a splinter of wood to find a missing caravan once. That ended poorly for the brigands that day, but that was a lifetime ago. Regardless, as I’ve said, I hold no trust for the Maton Mother and would rather not give her or anyone else a way to find themselves here or him.” 

The next day Biroke left while Lizbet stood there holding Dran, wondering how long it would be till the man would return. For the first time, she wondered if they would ever be safe again.

 

 

 

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