‘She can take care of herself, she is a strong fighter.’

            He quickly looked to the ledge where Leetah was healing his son Scouter to see him still breathing. A yell grabbed his attention back and he whirled around to see a troll attacking him with a twirling spear. He dodged and saw Cutter get a spear in his stomach by another troll. One-eye winced but there was nothing he could do. In anger he spun on the troll and stabbed him in the chest. As the troll fell his sword was pulled from his hand….

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

Clearbrook’s hair was flying like a whip as she maneuvered around the troll she was battling. She saw One-eye stab his troll opponent before the troll she was fighting blocked her view of him. She had a few cuts and bruises but nothing serious, she was full of adrenaline and releasing it on who ever got in her way. Suddenly she felt a horrible feeling and turned to see One-eye falling to the snow, he was covered in blood and she realized it wasn’t all troll blood….

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

One-eye reached for his sword with a grumble and found it was stuck in bone. Clearbrook was watching his back so he took the time to try and free his weapon.

“Rotten troll! Give me my sword.”

He yanked on it, but it would not come free. He placed his foot on the troll’s torso and yanked with both hands growling with his frustration. Screaming, moaning, death was all around him. The wolf in him wanted to get back to the fight.

“Grrrr. Rotten Troll!!”

Something hit his head on his blind side. Searing pain ripped through him and he felt himself falling. Now cold snow was biting at his face, he tasted blood in his mouth. Screaming… so close…

‘Clearbrook, must get my sword…’

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

Clearbrook felt the strength leaving her body and she screamed his name.

“One-eye!!”

The troll she had been fighting took advantage of his prey’s distraction and moved in again. Clearbrook was pulled back to the fight and faced it with tears streaking down her face. All of a sudden she heard Cutter calling her name, he had come to finish the troll for her. She dropped her sword without thinking, not caring if she was hurt or killed in the process. She dropped to her knees then fell atop him. He was already so cold.

**Sur! Sur answer me!!**

She searched for him and found nothing. Nothing, but darkness.

**SUR!!**

She was sobbing now, he was gone and she could feel the emptiness within her already. The sounds around her had faded into a dull ringing. All of a sudden she sat up with a bellow, took hold of her sword and cut her hair off at the nape of her neck. Her hair, it represented their life together. Long and intertwined, woven into one being, and now he was gone. She put the hair over him…

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

One-eye felt as if he was floating. He could see Clearbrook fighting the troll; she was crying; and Cutter, wounded badly coming in to save her. It should be him. He should be protecting her, but what was going on? He looked around slightly panicked and saw as Clearbrook crumbled on top of him. On top of him? His body? He was dead.

He could feel something pulling at him now. It had to be the palace, the one thing that belonged to no one but the elves. The elves true home. He understood the crazy Lord Voll’s obsession now. But he also felt the pull of the land, and something else. He focused and caught it. His soulname! Clearbrook was calling out to him in the most personal of ways. He could almost feel her heart breaking. He couldn’t understand why. He was fine; he felt more like himself then ever. The call of the Palace was getting stronger, but the site of her in such anguish held him there.

He saw as the strangers rode in. They were riding deer, great deer like he had never seen before and were clad in thick leathers. One came straight at Clearbrook as she cut her hair and laid it on his body. He swooped in to block the intruders but passed right through her and fell back into himself. He could feel his limbs; heavy, cold and wet with blood and snow. He tried to get up as he heard Clearbrook’s cry of surprise but couldn’t move. He tried to call out to her but failed at that too, and he was to disoriented to send. He could do nothing but lay there as she was taken away from him.

He didn’t know how much time had passed as he lay there. It was silent now. No screams, no clanging of swords… The Palace still pulled at him, He could swear he heard voices, familiar voices calling to him…but what of Clearbrook, and his cub Scouter? Did they make it? He had to find out. He tried to leave his husk again. He was surprised at how uncomfortable it had become. Just then he heard something, whining, a wolf. Was it Smoketrader? And something else, that pesky preserver, the one Cutter hated. He couldn’t hear what it was saying but just then he started to feel quite calm. Everything fell from thought, the voices silenced again, and he slept.

One-eye knew nothing of what went on out side. He knew not that the half troll had carried his preserver wrapped body into his lair and dressed him in shiny armor the likeness of a wolf. He knew not of the war that ensued after his death and how his beloved Clearbrook had gone mad with anguish and revenge. He forgot about seeing her fall upon him and cut off her glorious hair and of the voices that had called to him from the Palace. He had forgotten the fight and felt nothing physically. He did not know how much time had passed until finally he saw a way out of his shell. He burst free with a howl reveling in the pure freedom he felt. He had never felt so good. He heard the voices again and saw familiar faces. Faces he had not seen in seasons. He was full of joy and was ready to see the Palace of legend that they wanted to take him to, but something still pulled at him here. Literally, he could feel great magic and it called to him like a lover. He drifted towards it and found Leetah, crouched over his body. His body. Again he realized he was dead. He looked around and saw he was not in the snow anymore. He was in a strange room full of shiny wearables.

**Come on One-eye, come back to your body**

It was Leetah’s sending. She sounded desperate and incredibly strong. He glided closer to her and saw sweat on her brow. He knew she was trying to make him live. Part of him wanted to hold Clearbrook again, but he knew he would see her again, and he felt no pain and no longing to rejoin the living. He noticed with a start that his body was breathing. He felt a slight tug from it, but the Palace’s tug was stronger. He reached to touch Leetah’s face and sent to her. Not words, but feelings and images. He wanted her to give up. He would not rejoin his body. He didn’t know if she received his sending but was satisfied when she stopped what she was doing. She pounded his chest and burst out crying, collapsing into her arms. The palace wasn’t far, he floated to it and lost all thought…

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

Clearbrook was here, and the rest of his tribe. Treestump held his body in his arms. It looked as if they had been in another fight, and who were these other elves? Cutter had found more elves. One-eye found himself near Clearbrook and was startled by the look on her face. Her eyes were so hallow, she looked so lost as she sat over his soulless body. He looked up as the Highone walked over to her and Clearbrook asked her to bring him back. He nodded when the Highone said it was his choice. He tried to send to her again to reassure her but she was so closed off from everyone and so distraught he could not get through to her. All he could do was hover near her and hope she could feel his presence. He was relieved to see Treestump put his arm around her. She needed the comfort and of all his old friends Treestump knew what Clearbrook was going threw. He wished he could thank him. He felt a presence near him and turned to see Rillfisher also hovering near. Rillfisher and One-eye both wavered as Clearbrook screamed for the preserver to re-wrap him in wrap stuff. One-eye had never seen his serene lifemate act so desperate. It hurt him deeply to see that she would not give up on him.

It was then, when he realized Clearbrook would not let him in that he let himself fade into the background. He disappeared into the mist of souls that the Palace held. He let himself mingle with the souls, forgetting his pains in life, and resting like he had never rested before while his body lay in wrapstuff, again.

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

Something familiar, something that pulled his soul from the rest and brought his consciousness to the entrance of the Palace, it was Clearbrook and Treestump. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her. His soul glowed with his excitement. Somehow she seemed different. Her long hair was gone, and she seemed less at peace. He fallowed as she walked to the scroll room and sat next to his body, still wrapped in wrapstuff.

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

She touched the silky threads gently and didn’t notice when Treestump left her alone. She sat there and let her mind go over that horrible day with the trolls. She had never gotten over losing her lifemate that day. From then on she had a fog over her that even the Now of wolf thought could hardly take away. Tears slowly made a trail down her weary cheeks.

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

One-eye felt the Palace shiver. He knew what that meant and let his soul be called with the rest of the dead to bring the palace to life. The destination swam threw him and soon the palace was landing in a green growing place. He couldn’t help but smile as Clearbrook and Treestump exited the palace and he caught site of his cub, Scouter, still with Dewshine, and who was the cub on her waist? He lingered as elves greeted elves and he noticed how his tribe had grown. He noticed as other elf spirits also mingled with the living hoping to be noticed by there loved ones.

Soon, Clearbrook was walking Strongbow into the Palace. The archer looked forlorn and One-eye felt a pang for him. He fallowed his lifemate and old friend into the scroll room and over to his wrapped body and watched as Clearbrook spoke to the archer. He caught snippets of their conversation and knew of the elf they spoke of. When Strongbow called out to him asking for his help to connect with the elf Kureel, he gladly obliged. He searched for the dead glider and found him in the pool of souls, sleeping. The glider fallowed him to Strongbow and One-eye placed Kureel’s hand into the archer’s  outstretched hand. As Strongbow conversed with Kureel’s soul silently, One-eye’s attention was pulled back to Clearbrook. She was cutting open his wrapping with a calm look on her face. One-eye felt as Kureel faded back into the pool and saw the look of surprise on Strongbow’s face.     

Then he felt it. Clearbrook called his soulname again, she was finally letting him go. She was ready to let his body rest. He realized he was never truly free of this world. Part of his soul had been attached to his husk and he hadn’t even noticed for it was within the palace. He had always felt the pull of it, but the palace was always stronger. He had never tried to leave the palace but realized he couldn’t have if he tried. His body was his anchor. When she called his soulname again telling him to go free, this time he returned her soulname and she was open to him. His body sighed, and his soul howled with the joy he felt, he felt complete. Clearbrook would be alright without him at last and his body would be put to rest for good. Clearbrook and Strongbow picked up his body and carried it outside. With his newfound strength and wholness he flew threw the gathered elves howling and touching each one, frightening and surprising more then a few.

He floated, with the rest of the Wolfriders of the past, to the place where they would lay him. He was laid upon a dead wolf-friend, Starjumper from the looks of it, and was given a good howl. He and the others of the past joined in and he felt calm. He saw Treestump put his arm around Clearbrook’s waist and was glad she would not be alone, for she would have an old friend by her side, and a soulmate watching her no matter where she went.

                             S.C.  1/2007