Forgotten Realms Fan Fiction ❯ The Fateful Coin ❯ Chapter 1: Flight ( Chapter 1 )

Anashra ran, her long white hair streaming behind her. They were coming, and they would catch her. Then she would die. She could hear them, the Elven rangers hunting, chasing after her. She could hear their hearts beating and every breath they took intent upon her demise. An arrow whipped past her and grazed her cheek, blood streamed down her ebony face. Anashra ran faster, she ran for all she was worth; life was ahead of her and death swift behind. Anashra knew she would die, they would catch her unless, unless she could escape. She had a wild idea, a crazy, insane idea; but it was all she had.

She turned north, her pursuers hot on her heels; yelling curses, "Die foul Drow!" as they shot more arrows at her.


Worst of all she knew them. Almost every single one, they all wanted her dead and that hurt. Tears ran down her beautiful face, it was not their fault she thought; they did not know that it was her. They did not know that it was really an Avariel they were chasing and not a hated enemy. She ran towards the cliff the one overlooking the waterfall, she could see it ahead her freedom; she was going to make it. She had to make it. She reached the cliff she hesitated for a second, and then jumped. With a flourish, she spread her wings, unaware of the Elven archer who had her in his sights.

Pain shot through her wing, across her back and down into her feet. An arrow had pierced her wing just below the joint and had come out the other side. She faltered a little, managed to fight the pain, and flew down into the mist of the waterfall.




Fian Slivershadow, an Elven ranger stood atop the cliff above the waterfall; and cursed he knew his arrow had hit the foul Drow. Why then was there no splash? The vile creature had jumped; he had clearly seen it even though it was a moonless night. He mentally cursed all Drow; it was going to be a long night unless they found the body. They could not just allow a Drow to wander around doing whatever in the nine hells it pleased. He cursed the Drow again; yes, it was going to be a very long night.





Anashra shivered with pain and cold. It was dark and wet in the secret cave behind the waterfall; but it was safe for now. She would have to remove the arrow soon lest the wound begin to fester. She took a large wad of cloth and put it in her mouth; she would have to bite it when she removed the arrow. Satisfied, she gently moved her wing around for a better view, and winced. It was not pretty. The head of the arrow was large and tipped with barbs, meant to stay in and bleed a victim. Meant to kill, she noted.



She wrapped a piece of leather around the arrowhead, clasped the shaft, and broke it off. The room spun, and she was forced to lean against the wall of the cave or pass out. In her current condition, passing out was not good idea. Slowly the room swam into focus leaving her with dancing white spots in front of her violet eyes. She gritted her teeth and pulled out the last of the long shaft, forced the room to stay in focus and began to check for splinters. She deftly pulled out three large splinters and began to bandage the wound.




Finished, she rechecked to make sure her wing was fine and noted that she had lost a few feathers. Anashra waited for daylight, it would be safe to leave, and then; she would be normal again. Anashra sighed, she should have listened to Lei'tai; and now she wished she had. Some birthday this had turned out to be, sneaking out and being nearly killed by Elven rangers. She was nine today, she was so young for an elf, not even past her first decade; but she already more mature than most elves twice her age.



Anashra was tall for an elf she stood four feet and five inches. She towered over most Elves her age and most mistook her to be half-Elven like Lei'tai. She retreated to the very back of the small cave, pulled blankets out of her knapsack, made a pallet; and laid down to sleep. How peaceful she seemed, her long white hair spread out like a fan, a smile upon her dark lips, her elegant black wings folded around her like blankets, red eyes a glow with inner fire as she slipped into reverie.




Morning dawned, and Anashra was still asleep. How astonished the elves would be if they saw her now. As the light crept to where she slept, she began to change. Her skin faded from an ebon hue to the fairest of ivory, her wings turned white tipped with blue, her hair a dazzling shade of azure blue. As the light hit her face, she awoke, stretched, and opened her now sparkling blue eyes. If one were to look into them, they would be lost in a sea of beauty.



Her eyes put the most brilliant star sapphires to shame. Anashra was beautiful, and did not know it. And that was what gave her true beauty. Anashra hurried about reading her knapsack, for she had to be home; or Lei'tai would know of her absence. She would be in deep hot water if he found out, more so that she had been seen and almost caught and killed. She leapt out of the mouth the cave; wings spread and flew though the waterfall. She beat her wings, and flew higher and into the sky.


She flew towards home and prayed that Lei'tai had slept in for once. She spied the grove where she and her foster father Lei'tai lived. She landed and went to the tree standing in the middle. The tree was a giant, ancient and wise; it had been carefully song shaped by Lei'tai so that it served as a living entrance to their underground home.



She reached for the knot handle and jumped when she heard Lei'tai’s voice, "So my errant child you have returned."



Horror spread across her face, oh crap; he knew he had caught her. Lei'tai spoke his voice soft, “I am most disappointed in you my child; you should have listened to me.” She turned saw the look on his face and was forced to look away.


His face was sad, and bore the signs of his disappointment in her. “How, how did you know?” she asked.

His frown deepened and he replied, “Fian Slivershadow, and a few Elven rangers came to notify me that there was a female Drow in the area, which they feared was a precursor to an attack. When they had left I went to check on you and you were gone; and I knew they had seen you."


She hung her head, ashamed she had let him down; betrayed his trust. Tears began to flow, and Lei'tai spoke saying, “None of that now, you chose to sneak out; and now you will have to learn from your mistakes. Starting today, you will stay in your room all day and the rest of this week until you can figure out why it is a good idea to listen when I tell you these things."


She nodded tears in her eyes, and went to her room. He had been lenient, far more so than she deserved; and she was grateful.

Lei'tai sighed; he was getting too old for his comfort. He was a hundred and thirty nine, and beginning to feel it. Oh he would live at least a few more decades, he lived a good life and had few regrets. One was that he never bothered to marry, which was mainly because no woman would have put up with him. Lastly, was that he would not live to see Anashra really grow up into a woman. He wondered briefly if he had been a little hard on her, and decided that a little tough love would be good for her in the end. Ah, she had grown so fast, it had only been nine years since he had decided to raise her as his own and discovered her unique abilities. Sometimes he wished that she were a human child purely out of selfishness, so he could watch her grow up.



Lei'tai had never fathered any children of his own, at least he knew of, and if he had, he would have like to of known about them. Anashra was his little girl, the daughter he had always wanted, though he did not know it until he had held her that day. He wiped a tear from his eye ah; he was just a sentimental old fool. Anashra had changed his life, changed the things that were most important to him and changed what he had thought his life would be. He used to lust for glory and adventure, now all he wanted was a quiet life and to see that Anashra was happy.


Somehow, he thought he had gotten the better end of the bargain. Lady luck and fate had dealt him a splendid hand from his perspective and he would not trade of all of the Mithril in Toril. He began to whistle as he went about tending the grove, reflecting never got any work done; and there was plenty of work that need to be done yet.