First draft

The Loremaster's new tent was completely different from the old one. It was much more modest, dirty and above all, cramped. It wasn't surprising since the new place was three times smaller than the old one. Granted, they had been forced to leave in a hurry, and they couldn't bring even half of the things Naevys had hoarded in the last fifty years. However, the main difference was the smell.

Lithoniel was used to that smell of ancient parchments, the musty scent of ebonleaves and old alchemic concoctions. It'd lingered on in the old tent, and with time Lithoniel had learned to tolerate it, maybe even like it. Many found it unpleasant, but It reminded her of home. Now it was gone. The new tent reeked of medicinal herbs, a pungent smell used for the sole purpose of hiding what lay underneath it.

Putrefaction. The smell of death. It filled the air like something or someone was rotting, dying slowly and painfully. Lithoniel covered her nose as searched for Dasyra, the Loremaster's new maid, but Naevys' servant found her first.

Dasyra was small, short---barely four seven---and old, her short blond hair like straw.

"Nighstalker" She bowed to her, trudging across the tent to reach her.

As usual, she straightened her back and tried to hide her limp, the inborn defect that in the strict elf society sealed her fate and made her a casteless, a servant.

"Dasyra, what's this smell?" Lithoniel asked her.

Dasyra's eyes widened slightly, "Medicinal herbs." She answered, panting a bit as if that short walk had tired her.

"I don't mean tha..."

However, Dasyra didn't let her finish, "Do you come to meet the Loremaster?" She asked, maybe a bit too fast, "She'll be happy to see you. Please follow me." She gave her no time to answer and started walking.

Lithoniel narrowed her eyes but followed Dasyra until they reached the Loremaster's bedroom. Then she wrinkled her nose, her eyes watering as that thick medicinal scent hit her nostrils. The smell was much stronger here. Naevys was sleeping, a thick fur enveloping her scrawny body. She looked thinner than Lithoniel remembered, her face withered and deadly pale.

Lithoniel shot a worried glance at her, "How is she?"

Dasyra shook her head, "Every day that passes she is less lucid, Nighstalker. Most of the time she sleeps, and when she is awake, she isn't...

At that moment, Naevys' eyelids flickered.

Lithoniel couldn't help but lean forward, "Loremaster!" She called, but Naevys didn't wake up.

"Come...Falarel" Naevys mumbled in her sleep, "Come here, my child."

"Falarel?" She whispered to the maid.

Dasyra hesitated, "She is...was the Loremaster's daughter, but..."

"She died more than twenty winters ago." Lithoniel said quietly.

The maid nodded, sadness clouding her features as she looked at the Loremaster.

"I've missed you." Naevys continued, completely unaware of what was happening around her, "Uncle Elwin made you a wooden horse, a big wooden horse...just as you wanted." Her voice was soft and low like she was trying to coax a child, "Come...Falarel...come..." Then her voice died off.

Lithoniel tried to wake her up, but Naevys kept mumbling in her sleep. She gave up in the end and glared at the maid, "She got worse. She wasn't this bad when I left. And what's this smell?" She asked again, but Dasyra looked away.

"What did you do?!" Lithoniel hissed.

"She...she looked so sad. I had to do something. I gave her a bit of ebonroot extract to keep her calm but..."

"You drugged her." She accused.

"It helps her." Dasyra defended herself, "Everyone turned against her and her wounds..."

"Wounds? What wounds?"

Dasyra covered her mouth with her hand, color draining from her face as she glanced at Naevys' feet. She immediately averted her gaze, but it was too late, Lithoniel was already approaching the bed. Her old teacher was squeezing her eyes, moaning in her sleep like she was in pain.

Lithoniel had just started lifting the fur blanket when Dasyra shouted, "Wait! Don't..."

She didn't stop and lifted it, but what she found beneath it left her without breath.

Naevy's feet were black.

Lithoniel's head snapped up, and she glared at the maid, but Dasyra immediately dropped her gaze. The rage bottled up inside her was like a river in flood threatening to overflow. She had to find an outlet for that anger, and Dasyra was the obvious target. The maid was able to sense the danger and backed away, turning to escape, but Lithoniel already grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, throwing her down. Dasyra screamed and tried crawling away, but Lithoniel blocked her, flipping her over before stepping on her, her boot on Dasyra's throat.

"What's wrong with her feet?! Answer me!"

Dasyra's eyes watered as she tried to speak, not an easy task when someone is strangling you, "They...are...rotting." She managed to say.

Lithoniel opened her mouth wide, lifting her foot as she made a step back.

Dasyra coughed, sitting on the floor as she rubbed her throat, "I found her wandering in the snow, just outside the cave. She was barefoot, confused..."

Lithoniel loomed closer, and Dasyra shrunk back, "How could that happen? Where were you?" She wagged her finger at her.

"I had no choice! We were running short on food, I had to leave her!" Dasyra justified herself, her throat thickening with sobs.

However, the expression on Lithoniel's face was flat, "Why?"

"Zariel didn't bring the food like usual, so I went to look for him and..."

"Why? Why didn't he bring the food?" She sounded a bit calmer, but her tone hadn't softened at all.

"Zariel said that the Loremaster is just a..." Dasyra shook her head, "He said that we were just wasting food. He said that the Loremaster...has already one foot in the grave and even tried to convince me to abandon her. I refused, and when I came back, the Loremaster was gone."

Lithoniel's body shook with rage. "What about the Loremaster's guards? Where were they?"

She shrugged, "They left. I saw them talking with Baeris. An hour later they were gone."

Lithoniel gritted her teeth. Baeris had taken his brother's place as Garluin's henchman, his top dog.

"Why didn't you ask for help? Fennan was here."

Dasyra shrugged, "Why would he help me? I'm just a castless servant, and he never comes here. Besides, you and the Master of the Woodcarvers..." She trailed off, sneaking a glance at Lithoniel.

Lithoniel flinched, understanding what she meant. This wasn't the first time she and Fennan fought about something.

"How did you solve the food problem?"

"It's thanks to the Asp Ridge's people. I met some of them and..."

"You asked them for food."

Dasyra nodded, "They know you value the Loremaster."

Lithoniel clenched her fists, her face turning red with anger and shame, "She is our Loremaster, but they care more about her than our own people."

The maid was smart enough and held her tongue.

Lithoniel was still trying to keep her temper at bay when Naevys spoke.

"The horse...where is it?" She croaked.

"Loremaster..." Lithoniel whispered, inching forward.

Naevys opened her eyes wide, but her gaze was vacant, unfocused. She looked at Lithoniel right in the eye, but it was like she was looking at a stranger, "Who are you? Where did you put my horse? Give it to me!" She demanded.

Lithoniel flinched, but she still tried to smile, "Loremaster, don't you recognize me? It's Lithoniel." She spoke gently as she tried to take her hand.

However, the Loremaster smacked it away, "I don't know you. You came to steal my horse, right?!"

"Loremaster" The maid interjected, "No one is trying stole your horse. Drink a cup of tea. Then I'm sure you'll remember where you put it."

Naevys looked still wary, but when the maid handed her the teacup, the habit of a lifetime won over her diffidence.

"Yes, like that." Dasyra cajoled as the Loremaster slowly slipped on it, "Now, lay down and close your eyes for a bit."

Naevys shook her head, "The horse...I have to find it...give it to...Falarel"

However, she sounded more like a pouty child than a grown woman.

"And I'm sure we'll find it." Dasyra coaxed her, "Tomorrow."

"Falarel...her horse..." Naevys mumbled before falling asleep.

Tears filled Lithoniel's eyes as she looked at her old mentor.

"I'll call Jandar." She said to the maid as she head for the door, "I'm sure he can help..."

"Nighstalker" Dasyra stopped her, "there is no need. The Asp Ridge's tribe have already sent one."

Lithoniel halted, "And..."

"There is nothing to do." She whispered, "The Loremaster is too old, and her spirit is..."

"...broken. She's lost the will to live."

The maid nodded, "The medicine man said the only solution is to...cut off her feet. But it's too late for that. The Loremaster is too weak. She might not survive it. Maybe if I'd find her sooner..."

Lithoniel froze, Fennan's words ringing in her head.

This is my fault. If I had taken Fennan's advice...

"Do what you can to...ease her pain." Her voice sounded a bit shrill, weak and brittle like an old blade.

Dasyra opened her mouth, but Lithoniel couldn't hear her. She staggered, her knees buckling as she turned, running away from the place.