Panto grunted with every beat of his enormous front paws. The giant bear ran as quickly as his strong body and the armor that weighed him down allowed. It had been many moons since his master had urged him to such haste.
Then again, the bear had perceived that many things were changing.
Amrolan tried his best to quiet the beast. Even though they were traveling with all the speed Panto could muster, the elf who rode him knew that they would have to save some strength for the task ahead.
War was coming.
The trees here were new. Mere saplings compared to the ancient sentinels Amrolan had grown up in. Oaks that sprang out of the ground every few paces only reached the height of two, maybe three elven lengths. The flowers and new grasses of spring filled in the empty spaces between the trees. Had they the time to explore, there would be so much new life to encounter.
But this was not the time for exploring. Now was the time for speed.
Panto took the path they had worn into the new forest by traveling back and forth between the coast and the forest of their birth. Though both called the trees of the distant and old paths home, neither were welcome. Behind them, the twin suns of Gilia were sinking into the horizon. Night would soon be upon them. The darkness would not hinder their travels. Both of them were gifted with exceptional eyesight, even in near complete darkness. Both moon and comet would also light the night for them.
The comet that had recently burned a violent purple was now orange again in the night sky and had helped the pair travel at night with ease.
Traveling was what they did. They were nomads: doomed to wander and never to settle. Scorned by both lands that they might naturally call home and feared by those who were of lesser descent. They lived off of what the earth provided. Fortunately, they were both expert foragers and hunters. Only in the chilled south during the winter months were they ever in want for food. But in times of plenty or in great want, they were to serve their ordained purpose.
Every metallic clink of his armor was a painful reminder of the path he had chosen. The metal interlocking plates glimmered in the failing sun. Wrought not by elves or by men, his armor had saved his life many times from those whom he desperately wanted to call friends and family.
Amrolan pushed such thoughts from his mind. There was urgent business at hand.
He was a tall and proud elf, broader than most of his race. His hair was as black as the night and cut short to better accommodate the helmet he wore atop his head. Dark eyes surveyed the path before him without concern. These trails were theirs. Speed would not hinder their travel through the woods.
"Tired," Panto said.
Amrolan patted his bear companion with one hand, while keeping a tight hold of the harness attached to the beast with the other.
"Rest soon," Amrolan replied, though he did so without moving his lips.
The link that they shared went beyond a sharing of minds. Bear and elf shared a common bond that went to the very depths of the other's soul. When he wanted, Amrolan could see through Panto's eyes, could hear what the beast heard, could smell what the black nose smelt.
They shared an existence.
Through the snout of his friend and only companion, Amrolan could sense that they were nearing their destination. Soon, both of them would see what they had feared would come. As they crested a hill, the twin suns of Gilia sank behind them and night fell in earnest. Amrolan gazed at the sight before him and his eyes widened in shock.
Amrolan would not need the moon or the orange comet to light his way tonight. The soldiers carrying torches who marched in columns down the old road would provide more than ample supply.
Never had he seen the noble elves outside of their cities before, and certainly not in full guard. A thousand glittering and fully armed elves passed underneath his watchful gaze. They were elegant and terrifying, beautiful and repulsive.
Lest he be seen, Amrolan urged Panto to back off of the path they had made and into the woods. They hid themselves among the trees as they both continued to look in awe at the sight before them.
The elves marched down an old road that followed the cliffs from the human lands beyond. That part seemed strange to him. Why were the elves marching away from the human lands? Wasn't that their goal? To overcome and be the dominant race on Irradan? Not that the elves needed ever really fear the humans. Their lives were so short and their skill so diminished in comparison to the elves.
Columns of soldiers were passing underneath him. The ranks stretched from one visible bend in the road to the next. Standard bearers carried alongside the lines the white and purple banners Amrolan had both longed to see again and loathed to be reminded of his pain. He was so close to those whom he once called friends.
Yet, so far.
From this point, Amrolan would be safe from their surveying eyes. Or so he thought.
"Danger," Panto said the great bear, taking in a breath and turning around as quickly as his bulk would allow.
Amrolan dared not move. The blade that rested on his throat had already begun to draw a small trickle of blood.
“Breathe and I'll make you pay dearly,” a whisper said into his ear.
He wasn't sure which surprised him more: that he had been snuck up on even with his keen senses or that the voice that spoke into his ear was not that of a gruff elven warrior.
It was a woman.