Dorothea's Song

Chapter 1

Today I was at school and my French teacher gave us an assignment that will last for several months. She asked us to write a journal page each night in a copybook in French. I’m not that good in French but I thought it was a great idea. The rest of the class laughed because they thought what she was asking was extremely difficult. So our teacher told us to use words we know. Simple words. It’s something that I can’t wait to start. My teacher gave us an example and suggested we write something up on a famous French person we might have been named after. My name is Peter and I don’t feel like doing that. I’m not in the mood for writing about some scientist or politician. You see, I’ve a better idea.

A few weeks ago I had a dream of an elderly man dressed in white robes. In his hand he held a gem of power. It was a clear white crystal shaped in the form of a tear. As he held it, I saw him standing in a large forest, and the closer I looked the more I saw that the gem began shining brightly. White as snow. I woke up and felt really odd. Almost as though I had been there.

Then I went to school and listened to my French teacher talk about our writing assignment. I came up with the idea that I could use my Dungeons & Dragons characters in a continuing story. Each night I'd write up a section and tell the story of Dorothea. That way I'll be able to do my class assignment and translate it into French, for Mrs. Berks to read.

I want to write all this down because I want you to remember all of this. Years from now I want you to think back and reflect on Mrs. Berks. I want so much to capture each little moment and roll it up in a ball. But I didn't know how I could go about it. So I thought the best way for me to do this is to write it to you and then you'll read it when I'm older. It will be a time capsule to you.

Dorothea stopped to check the forest floor. In the soft mud, a deer had left its tracks. It was early afternoon and soon it would be dark. She wrapped her cloak tighter around her and decided to move on. The trees around her were filled with brown dried leaves which were so unlike the trees of her homeland. The tall, thin white trunks of the Bois d'or blossomed into a full circle of golden leaves. At night, the Bois d'or came alive with a magical light. Twinkling blue, yellow, and green, each leaf became a beacon in the night until a deep sleep would drift over the entire golden wood. Then, like candles being blown out, each leaf would twinkle out and sleep until morning. She missed her home.

Dorothea felt the cold breeze blow around her and knew she needed to find a clearing for the evening so she could set up a fire and prepare for the long night ahead. Centering her pack with a twitch of her shoulder, Dorothea followed the deer tracks but allowed herself to continue to daydream. When she closed her eyes, she could still see her friends waving to her as she left for her trial. Her friend Celas had hugged her and warned her to be careful. He had told her to watch out for scavenger humans who hid in the Outerlands in between the raids they made on elven caravans. She felt a heaviness weigh on her and she wished she had not left her village. If she could survive in the Outerlands for one week, she would become a protectorate of the Bois d'or. The High Council bestowed the honor on only a few elves. Once she completed the test, she could rejoin her friends and help ensure the safety of her homeland.

Around her the autumn wind blew, sending dried leaves to the forest floor. Soon winter would spread its chill across the Realms, but for now autumn still held some of summer's beauty. For her, this time of the year signaled a time to remember. Her childhood was blurred between the phantom shadows of her mother who died when she was young and her growing up as an orphan in more homes than she could remember. All her life, she had questioned the whereabouts of her father. She knew he had died in the war but that was all she was told. The secrets surrounding his death were closely guarded or unknown. So many questions she needed answered.

Before she had left the Bois d'or, the High Council had promised that her test to become a protectorate would open a lifeline of answers to her. But Dorothea feared more questions would be given to her than answers. All her life, Dorothea had promised herself that she would protect the Bois d'or against another war so that others would not have to lose their parents. Now she had to prove her worthiness and she was afraid.

An animal’s cry from off to her left startled her from her reverie. She unsheathed her sword, the Argent de fille, and ran toward the noise. Through a thick set of bushes, Dorothea saw a wounded deer tied to a tree. She crept toward the deer and tried to loosen the rope around the animal’s neck but the deer was frightened and tried to kick her. Someone had deliberately set this deer to the tree and she wondered why. She put her sword away and used a small knife to cut at the rope that held the deer. As she tried to free the animal, Dorothea could hear the rumblings of a river that was not too far off. She was deeper into Outerland territory than she had thought. Once she released the deer, her first priority would be to find shelter for the night.

Cutting the rope off took her longer than she had expected, but as she felt the last strand break she sensed the deer’s sudden fear. With surprising speed, Dorothea watched as the deer bounded off, leaving a fresh trail of blood. From behind her, thick rough hands grabbed her by the throat. She gasped for air and turned her head back to see the black toothed smile of a human. He chuckled at her as she struggled to escape.

Going somewhere? His stench hung stagnant around him and sickened her. He loosened his grip and tripped her to the ground. Well, where do you think you were going? Walking through human lands isn’t a good idea for a pretty little elf like you.

Let me go! Dorothea struggled and squirmed but she could not push him off of her.

He panted as he fought with her. He held her down and grinned, showing his rotten teeth. You know what I’m going to do to you? He snorted and breathed on her neck. I’ll show you why the humans are better than puny elves.

He fumbled with his pants while trying to hold Dorothea down. When her one hand became free, she clawed at his face and poked him in the eye. Screaming in pain, he tried to punch her in the face but she rolled out from under him. She scrambled to her feet and ran. Behind her she heard him cursing. She was glad that she had hurt him.

Dorothea ran at her fastest and only one thought echoed through her head. Escape. She headed toward the sound of the river and hoped she could outrun the human. Up ahead she could see the river’s embankment. Breathing hard, she pushed through a thick bunch of bushes, scratched her face against the brambles, and slid down the muddy bank. Not stopping to think, she jumped into the river and tried to find her footing on a path of half-submerged stones.

About halfway across she turned around and saw the human chasing her. Blood covered the right side of his face. She could see him panting heavily. He looked tired. He paused for a moment to judge the best course to cross the river and ran toward her. Turning back around, Dorothea continued onward, slipping a few times on rocks covered in moss. The water was cold but it heightened her senses. She only had a few more yards to go and she would be across the river.

When I catch up to you, I’ll let you lick this blood off my face and then I’ll cut you good. Dorothea ignored him and concentrated on not slipping.

In front of her she saw a swirling dark pool of water. There were no more rocks she could use for footing and she could not tell the water's depth. Behind her she heard the human catching up to her. Without thinking, she stepped off the last stone and fell in the water up to her waist. The current’s slow crawl hampered her movement and the cold numbed her legs. At last she felt rockier ground and the upward slant of the river's embankment. From the loudness of his taunts, she heard the human closing in on her. His strength and anger pushed him across the river like a wave. Without turning back, Dorothea scrambled up the muddy bank, feeling the soft earth underneath her fingernails. Her feet kept slipping in the mud. She was barely able to pull herself to the top. Below her the human was already running toward the embankment. He had nearly caught up with her.

You elven bitch! Bloodied spittle dripped out of the corner of his mouth. Wait until I catch you.

Dorothea took a few deep breaths and then ran faster. In her head she could hear her heart pounding. Her muscles ached and the cold sting of the wind hurt her pointed ears. She tried to look back but tripped on a tree's roots. She fell hard, scraping the palms of her hands on the forest floor. Her breath was knocked out of her and she felt a sharp throbbing in her ankle. She pulled herself up and leaned heavily on her uninjured leg. She saw the human running toward her. He had seen her fall and knew she was wounded. Balancing herself with her left leg, Dorothea unsheathed her sword, the Argent de fille, and waited. Her breath came in short, quick pants as she stood waiting for the human. Her long brown hair was tangled and encrusted with mud. Her entire body stung in pain. Tired and injured, she could not run any longer. With nowhere left to go, she decided to face her attacker.

Dorothea pointed her sword at the human and said, Leave me alone.

The human wiped the blood from his cheek and grunted. Leave? I don't think so.

He pulled out his longsword and lunged forward. He swung wildly at Dorothea and she easily blocked his attack. She hobbled away from him, knowing that his strength could easily beat her. She parried his attacks and searched for his weakness. He gripped his sword with one hand and tried to frighten her with his wild swings. Edging closer toward him, Dorothea feigned an attack, twirled around, and swung her sword heavily down on his blade. With a clang of steel against steel, Dorothea’s sword broke his weapon. Surprised by her move, the human stared at his broken blade. When he looked up, he saw the Argent de fille pointed at his throat.

Leave, and I will let you go. She moved closer and touched her blade to his neck.

The anger on the human’s face did not fade. I’ll go. He dropped his sword to the ground and raised his hands above his head.

Dorothea paused and waited to see what he would do. Slowly he turned and walked away with his hands still up. She lowered her sword and watched him leave. The pain in her ankle clouded her thinking and she knew she could not stand much longer. She started to sheath her sword when she saw the human flick his right arm down. As though she were in a dream, she saw him turn and throw a weapon at her. Seconds later she felt a throwing dagger impale itself into her elven chainmail. The weapon had lodged itself between the links of her armor and her left shoulder. Surprised and unbalanced, she fell to the ground. When she looked up, she saw the human diving onto her. Instinctively, Dorothea tilted her sword up at him in defense. As he fell on her, the Argent de fille pierced through his chest. He screamed as the magical blade’s hot metal burned through him. Blood oozed from his mouth along with a few air bubbles. His fall had knocked Dorothea flat to the ground and had helped push the sword through his body. Dorothea stared up into his neck and felt his last few quivers of life pass through his body. She rocked his and her body from side to side until she gathered enough momentum to roll him off of her. Tears streamed down her face and she gasped for breath. She knelt away from his body and began to vomit onto the muddied ground.

She had never killed before. With a handful of dried leaves, she wiped the blood off the Argent de fille and then sheathed her sword. She did not know what to do. The sun had begun to set. The wind had picked up and it looked like it might snow. Her body ached for warmth. She needed to find shelter or she would not survive the night. Limping to a nearby tree, Dorothea peered inside and saw that the tree was hollow. With a bit of luck, she could spend the night in the tree. It would be a tight fit, but she would not find a better place to rest.

She started to climb inside the tree but stopped. The lifeless body of the human still lay face down in the mud. She had never wanted to kill him. Inside she felt a wrench of sorrow and fear overcome her. She began to cry and wished she could take it all back. But he had offered her no choice. Dorothea turned away and peered inside the tree. Someone had used the tree as a crude stove. Long ago the tree had died, leaving only an empty shell. Nothing lived inside it and only a thick layer of ash covered the ground inside. Kneeling to climb inside, Dorothea crawled into the tree. She barely fit but she would make do for the night. Taking out her waterskin, she drank some water and began to relax. In the morning she would deal with what had happened. Now she needed rest. She closed her eyes and felt fatigue overcome her.

Chapter 2

It was really hard to translate everything into French. I did my best but decided to attach a copy of my story in English to the end of it so that Mrs. Berks could figure out what I was trying to say. I wonder what she’ll think about it. I didn’t think the story would be that long or even know what it would be about. I just wanted to sit down and write.

There's been a lot of strange stuff going on and I don't really know what to do about it. Right now there's no one else around and I think I can write about it. Just me and my Commodore 64. I can hear the humming of our old musty yellow refrigerator in the next room. Behind me is the old dark tan sofa with the wild patterned '70s-like swirl on it. As usual, it's late. I would like to write about something but I don't know where to begin. Maybe in the middle.

There's a lot going on. Maybe it's me and I don't know how to deal with all of this but well, here goes.

Yesterday my stepfather and I went to church. He knelt in the pew with his head down and didn't move. I could feel the soft cushion of the kneeler sink downward as I leaned all my weight onto my right knee. It dug deep. Deep enough until I could feel the wood underneath the cushion. On the altar I could see the priest consecrating the host. He wore long white robes and he held a large circular wafer in his hands. This is the body of Christ.

The air conditioner of the church was on high and the chill in the air caused me to shiver.

Fuck you, Christ.

For a few seconds, I didn't know where I was, what I was doing, and asked myself if I had said those words. And it wasn't the priest who said them. I was in the middle of the holiest part of Mass and my stepfather was cursing God.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him bent over his fists in a determined prayer. His hands were dark and stained with car grease from changing the oil of our car.He laughed a little and mumbled something under his breath.

Next to me a woman wearing shorts bowed her head in prayer. I wonder if she heard my stepfather. Had anyone heard it? Or was it me, maybe something I missed, and the world had slipped sideways for a moment without me on it.

Fuck your Father, Son, and Spirit.

There it was. A trinity of curses. The holiest of insults. And there I was in the middle of the consecration of the Eucharist on a Sunday on a hot summer morning. I didn't know what to do. I leaned over toward the woman on my right and wanted to meld into her family. Her two children looked around, staring at the stained glass windows waiting for the mass to end.

And around me I heard the words from the priest. Happy are they who are called to his supper.

Bending my head down low, almost to the wooden part of the pew, I prayed hard. Lord, I am not worthy to receive thee, but only say the word and I shall be healed. The last word I emphasized and crossed my heart with my hand. My stepfather was cursing at Christ in the middle of mass and I was with him. I kept my head down low. Embarrassment washed over me. I didn't know what I could do but when it was time to get up and go to communion, I rushed. My stepfather stayed there. In my head I saw the rows and rows of worshipers and thought about how easy it would be to take the body of Christ in my mouth and leave. Go out the side door and never come back. Leave and then I could be free. I stood in line, watching the people around me. I used to go to grade school here. This is my parish. He cursed Christ for everyone to hear. I tried my best to blend in with the crowd but it was hard to do. Maybe everyone could see and hear. I didn’t know.

Around me were families, people I knew from my high school, and God. Maybe He wasn't quite too happy with me now for not saying anything. I don't know.Amen.

I was next in line. The body of Christ was going to be given to me and I was really having a hard time on concentrating to clear my head. The man in front of me turned to walk back up the aisle and he crossed himself. His eyes were closed and his mouth was full with Christ. I could see him chewing slightly and I imagined I could hear the crunching of the host in his mouth.

Body of Christ. The priest held the host in front of me and I bowed my head down to look at the floor with my palms held up toward his hands. I didn't want him to see me. He might know.

Amen. I mouthed the word more like a mantra to bring the angels and saints to my side than a prayer of atonement.

I felt the thin, circular host placed into my hand and with my right-hand I took it and saw the cross emblazoned on it. This was God. If I ate Him, maybe His goodness would protect me. The host slid nicely into my mouth and I tongued it to feel it break apart in my mouth.

It slid down my throat and into my stomach, not too good. It scraped the sides and hurt a bit. Maybe it already knew.

I didn't want to go back. I could smell a faint bit of incense still in the air and I could see the sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows. A few people bent over in prayer were blue from the light. It washed over them like an energy shield. I knew they were protected.

When I reached our pew, I walked back to my seat and knelt down next to him. No words were spoken. I prayed. My eyes were shut so tight that I could see that yellowish haze floating before me. Like looking at a bright light and then turning away to close my eyes. The yellowish haze lingered.

I wanted to leave here. To go home or go out with my friends. Maybe go to the mall. Maybe to go back and write about Dorothea in the Outerlands. And help her get away from the dead thief's body. To bring her back home to her people. The priest was washing up the chalice with his head bowed. When he finished, he paused for a moment.

Let us pray. He raised his palms upward and invited us all to join him.

We stood up and I felt it jump inside my stomach. Plop. It went back down again. The host was fighting demons inside of me. I could really feel it. Or maybe it was butterflies. I don't know.

Go in peace to love and serve the Lord. The priest smiled at us and looked at his parish. He didn't see.

Thanks be to God. The worshipers almost put in at the end: to go home but you could hear how they held their tongues. I turned to leave and didn't want to make eye contact with my stepfather.

The singing was going on but no one wanted to participate. They put in their time and now they wanted to go. The aisle was filled with people and we edged into the center of the crowd and headed toward the front door. I could feel the heat from the outside. It wasn't a good thing.

A woman next to me was laughing with her friend. A group of people who were talking blocked our path. Then I felt it. The war was lost. The host was retreating. I had never known it to lose a battle before. So I began to pray to Mary. If Christ couldn't help me, maybe she would have mercy on me.

And then it happened. I can't believe this. I ran forward and felt the touch of people's summer skin as I brushed past the people to get to the exit. Then I was outside. The heat hit me like a wave and the humidity took my breath away. I ran to the side of the church and opened my mouth. The host and breakfast came flying out. It was embarrassing. I was angry, tired, and I needed--I don't know what.

I stood bent over my vomit and rested my hands on my knees. I heard him come up behind me and he asked if I were okay. I told him that I felt fine and that it was just the heat. If I could have wished for anything right then, I would have asked to go home. Inside I felt all confused and nervous. Sometimes I want some peace instead of all this craziness.

He asked me if I needed help walking home and I said I'd be fine. My mother was selling at the local flea market and she was expecting both of us to show up to help her after Mass. He said he'd go help her out and I could go home and rest. Seems like I got my wish anyway.

So I walked home and rested. I still couldn't believe how hot it was for September. I came home, cleaned myself up, and finished my French assignment in an air-conditioned room. You must think me crazy for writing all of this down but I wonder if you remember all of this. Or maybe you don't even care. Things are getting crazy around here and I want to get myself out of it. It's like I'm trapped or something. There's no place for me to go except inside this story I'm writing. It's one of the only places I feel safe.

Dorothea bent down and washed her face in the river. She felt tired and cold but knew she had to move onward. The trees around her swayed in the autumn wind and leaves tumbled across the ground. Standing up, she heard a faint echo in the wind. She thought she heard an elven call of distress. Only a protectorate of the Bois d'or would use the call in an emergency.

She stood still and listened. Moments later from far off she again heard the call. Dorothea cupped her hands around her mouth and answered the call. Loud and clear, it resembled a bird calling. The echo of her call faded and she waited for the reply.

No one could interfere in her test. Unless she was being tricked, there must be an emergency and she was needed. Closer this time she heard the responding call. Dorothea sprinted toward the sound and had her hand on her sword. She could still see dried blood on her clothes and she tried to put her memories of killing the human out of her mind. She knew it would take a long time for her to forget what she had done.

The path she followed twisted through the woods and led to a small clearing. Standing with his sword at the ready, she saw her friend Celas the Whitelock. He wore camouflage and carried two backpacks. The wind whipped his namesake white mane of hair behind him.

I'm glad I found you. He was out of breath from running.

What's wrong? Dorothea went up to him and hugged him. Why did you come after me?

Two days after you left, the Council received news from our scouts that the humans are massing troops along our Southern border. They began to argue over what to do and the Council has been dissolved.

Dorothea helped him unload the packs off his shoulder. I don't understand. How is that possible?

Several Council members wanted to enter into an alliance with the humans. They're backed by Milthanas and his followers. The remaining members wanted to prepare for war. As they tried to come to terms, fighting broke out in the Council and the rebellious faction has left the Bois d'or and sided with Milthanas. They have declared war against any elves who support the war against the humans.

Dorothea sat down on the large pack of supplies. Milthanas is a traitor and does not deserve to have elven blood in his veins. He has divided our people long enough and I cannot believe that anyone would follow him.

Well, many have. The Bois d'or is in turmoil and I have been sent to find you and head toward Mohan's tower.

Dorothea jumped up. What? The Council ordered you to go enlist the help of a human?

Mohan is a wizard. Some claim he's not even human. Whatever he is, we're going to need help. If the humans and the renegade elves decide to attack the Bois d'or, our homeland will fall. Mohan has been sympathetic to the elves in the past and we need all the help we can get.

I'm not going! I'll head back to the Bois d'or and help organize the defenses for any attack.

Celas rubbed his hands through his white hair. I don't think you understand everything clearly. The Council is disbanded. There is no one preparing for an attack. Everyone is packing up to move Northward into the caves. I came here to find you and we have to go get help or we won't have a homeland to go back to.

But if I leave now, I can get back in time to help.

To help do what? Help pack bags and move into the Northern caves? We have a chance to help our people by enlisting the help of Mohan. He is friends with some of the elven nobility so he might be able to work with us. Troops are already on our borders. There is no one to order a defense. Our people would never survive an invasion by the humans. We must go enlist some help!

Dorothea turned away and kicked at a rock. She spun around and pointed at Celas. What if he doesn't want to help us? What if he is already allied with Milthanas and the renegade elves? Then what do we do?

He's not. He wouldn't do that.

Thousands of lives are at stake and you're basing your whole plan on hope! How do you know for sure he'll help us?

Celas looked away. I know because he came to me in a dream.

Dorothea stared at him. What are you saying?

I'm saying that I had a dream in which he spoke to me and told me to find you and come to him.

But I thought you said the Council told you to find me.

There is no more Council! I lied. The renegade elves killed off the other members and I barely escaped with my life. There's been fighting in the Bois d'or and two nights ago I had a dream of Mohan. He told me he would help us.

Dorothea came up to him and held him. Why didn't you tell me this from the start?

I didn't think you'd believe me. And I didn't want you to know how bad things really are.

Celas hugged her and then picked up a backpack and tossed it to her. We have to get moving.

Okay, I'll go with you. But before I go, I need for you to swear that you're telling me the truth. Dorothea stared into his eyes and waited.

I swear. He held her gaze and walked closer. Our people need our help. If we work fast enough, Mohan might have a plan to help us. I don't know how or why but we have to try.

You're right. I'm sorry. It's just that so much has happened in the last few days. Everything has turned upside-down and I don't know how it's all changed so fast. Dorothea tightened the straps of her backpack and headed out of the clearing.

I don't know either but right now I just want to get moving. Celas followed Dorothea and the two of them headed toward Mohan's tower.

Chapter 3

A woman crouched on the top of a mountain in the midst of a raging rainstorm. She pulled her sapphire-colored robes closer to her as the wind whipped around her. Between the echoes of thunder and lightning flashes, she stretched her arms up toward the sky. Behind her and out of reach, a young girl watched in awe.

The older woman opened her hands palm upward and yelled above the wind. Daughters of the nightwind. I, Sabrina the Moonstone witch, ask you to hear me. A bolt of lightning hit her palms and she laughed as its energy surged through her. Send the talon, the shadow, and the passion to Dorothea. Let the daughter of light face the three ancient evils. Make anger, fear, and lust her companions.

Rain soaked through her robe and she smiled as lightning hit the ground by her feet. She could smell the charred grass and see a red light burn through the ground in front of her. Sabrina pointed to the girl behind her and said, Kissa, come here.

The young apprentice shivered from the cold as she came forward. Her mouth was sewn shut to show her faithfulness to the coven. She handed Sabrina a leather bag filled with bloody rags and stepped back. In front of her, the ground tore open and three dark denizens climbed forth. Kissa whimpered softly and jumped back.

Sabrina held the bloody rags in her hand, allowing the redness to seep under her nails. The daughter of light shall not live. Go and find her. She threw the rags at them and watched as the three shadowy beings drained the rags dry. Then, in unison, they leapt off the mountain in three different directions and headed toward their prey.

Sabrina reached for Kissa's wet hand and smiled. Now let us see Mohan interfere with our plans. She held Kissa's body close to her and smoothed back her hair. The short black curls sprung back in rebellion once Sabrina's hand had passed over them. Come, let us go to our sisters.

Slowly, Sabrina's face feathered and shrunk in proportion. Her nose changed into a beak and her arms became wings. Her touch infected Kissa and changed her, too. In moments, the two witches had become large ravens. Together they flew upward and fought the wind as they headed for their coven.

Mohan stood on top of his tower Losoil and stared out at the horizon. Lightning flashed in the distance but he could not hear the thunder. Night had fallen and the moonlight shone on his white robe and beard. The wind picked up and he shivered slightly in the cold.

Standing next to him, his friend passed him a warm mug. He sipped it slowly, savoring the spicy elvish wine. He felt renewed but still worried. Rasdar, my friend, it has begun.

You knew this day would come. It was only a matter of time. Now we need to sit back and wait. Rasdar wrapped his robe around him and tightened his sash to protect him against the cold.

But I'm tired of waiting. I will not let them harm Dorothea. The daughter of light must live. He smiled at his friend and handed him the cup.

He reached