Tales of Krondor

Delemir sat on a stone step in the middle of town, feeling the gentle breeze on his hair and face, watching the villagers pass by, happy, contented. He had never felt so alone in his life.. but he would not cry. Not like his father had done to tell him the news that evening. Delemir remembered the wayhis father had run his hands through his wizened grey hair and wiped the tears from his white beard. He sighed and got up. Though elves are normally nimble and quick, he felt weighed down that evening. He walked through the crowds, spotting people he knew waving at him and giving a feeble wave back, though not half as enthusiastically as his friends. Delemir felt sick, but he couldn't let it show in front of all these people, briskly walking past and getting on with their business without the
slightest hint of hesitance.
Then, his mind clicked into action, whirring at top speed, Delemir remembered - Tamalius! How could he have been so stupid. He felt bad for forgetting about him - he could always turn to the little guy for help. Delemir immediatly set off for Tamalius' house,
walking with slightly more spring in his step and feeling a tad more cheery than he had a moment ago. A glimmer of hope sparked inside him and for the first time in countless months, he smiled. It was a hopeful smile, but a sign of happiness nonetheless. Delemir remembered how he and his mother used to visit Tamalius - Oh, what fun they had!
He remembered how they used to discuss trivial matters and problems. He remembered how they used to skip down the road, laughing and-- "BANG!" A few people cried out in fright as a fruit stand collapsed and the bright green fruits rolled across the grass. Several elves ran to pick them up, laughing as they did so. Tamalius guessed the days where you could laugh at nothing were over, but alas, he had guessed wrong.
Delemir heard Tamalius grunting in protest as he got out of his chair to answer the door. The small rustic doorway opened with a quick swing and Tamalius' face lit up.
"LAD! Glad ye came ti see me!"
"Hi, tam." replied Delemir in as friendly a voice as he could muster.
He ducked as he climbed through the small doorway into the dwarves'
home. Tamalius frowned.
"What's wrong lad?"
Delemir looked Tamalius in the eye then glanced away quickly.
"It's.."
"Yes lad?"
"It's my mother.. she's--"
"Ill, I know. She'll be okay though lad, don't worry about it eh?"
"No, Tam, she's dead."
It was only at this point of the conversation that Delemir truly
understood the significance of what he had said, and the truth washed over him like the freezing seas of the lands his mother used to tell him about. He sighed and looked at the floor. Tamalius' face fell, and his cheery, amused expression faded. The corner of his eye watered and he bit his lip.
"Lad.." His voice faltered.
Tamalius patted Delemir on the shoulder and got up, grunting once again as he did so.
"Berries, Delemir?"
"What?"
"Tea lad, with your tea!"
"I don't drink t--" Tamalius interrupted him
"It'll make you feel better son." Tamalius nodded authoratively.
Delemir gazed down at the red haired dwarf with his long beard and scruffy hair, nodding like a king. Delemir smiled, then broke into a chuckle and by the time Tamalius had gotten the tea ready, Delemir
had forgotten all about his mother and was happily chatting to Tamalius
about his latest finds of precious gems. Delemir spoke animatedly to
Tamalius for.. he didn't know how long.
By the time he left Tamalius' house he was chuckling to himself over something he could no longer remember. Delemir skipped along the wet grass and shrubs, and didn't even notice the large storm clouds beginning to form above the village. He did however notice, a young elf, that looked about his age crying to herself as she walked slowly along the edge of the pathway beside the shrubs. Delemir involuntarily sneezed and the girl raised her head to look at him. Her deep navy blue eyes shone with tears and the edges of them were red and wet. She bit her lip and kept walking, but Delemir did not move. He stopped completely and looked at the girl, feeling an uncontrolable urge to comfort her.
Though he had never seen her or met her before, she seemed strangely familiar. Delemir called after her, unable to control himself. Her long brown hair swished as she stopped and turned around to look at him. He walked towards her, his brain screaming;
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING DELEMIR?! YOU DON'T KNOW, DO YOU?!"
"Are you okay?" Delemir asked tentitavely.
"OF COURSE SHE ISN'T YOU FOOL, SHE'S CRYING AND HAS BEEN FOR SOME
TIME!"
Delemir attempted to block out anything from his brain that was contradictory to what he was doing. "I'm Delemir." stated Delemir, clearly and confidently, though he didn't feel it as he gazed at the girl through his wide green eyes.
"I'm Xanthe" said the elf in a rather shaky voice, not looking at Delemir, clearly finding the stone path beneath their feet more interesting.
"What's wrong?" asked Delemir feebly.
"I.."
Xanthe stood up shaking, and walked away in her own elegant manner, sobbing into her pale hands. Delemir stood for a moment in a state of shock, then continued walking home. troubled by Xanthe, he thought deeply that night, thinking that maybe, there was someone who felt as bad as he did out there.
The crisp night air bit and blew into Delemirs pale face and eyes. He was in a dully
lit alleyway, shadows were darting and flickering from one dank wall to another, enhanced by the lone dim lamp resting on a wooden table in the corner. Delemir heard something. It was like wind, a blowing sound, but it was different, and quiet. He shivered and narrowed his dark green eyes to the point where they were almost slits in his face. The whoosing, blowing noise got louder, and any other ambient sounds around it fell silent, so that all Delemir could hear was the low whoosing noise. He twitched. Out of the corner of one eye, he saw something move. The lamp flickered, and the whoosh grew louder. Delemir felt a small amount of panic inside. He turned around, shaking, and saw a ghostly figure emerging from behind a seemingly abandoned building. The bricks were a strange beige colour and grime was peeling off them like orange skin. Delemir had never seen anything like this in his elven home before. The figure, hooded and cloaked raised his head slightly so that his face could be seen. Delemir had to stop himself from screaming. A mixture of the moonlight and the lamplight shone off the figures face. His skin was unnaturally pale, his eyes had no colour and he had no pupils whatsoever. His white eyes were bloodshot and swollen, as if he hadn't slept in a long time. His nose was just a small lump in his ghostly face, and the nostrils were like tiny pinholes. His mouth was merely a slightly tilted line across his bleak face, and he seemed not to posses any lips at all. All in all, his face was flat, and, compared to Delemirs complexion, completely grotesque. The rest of the figures body was cloaked. He wore a black robe which folded over his arms and fell below his feet so that his face was the only visible part of his flesh. The figure hovered above the building, seeming not to notice Delemir. The whooshing sound got louder, and was almost a dull shriek. Delemir noticed a lump in the side of the strange figures robe, and was considering turning and running away. The whooshing noise was like a steam train and never seemed to stop or falter. It was now deafeningly loud and Delemir made to run off for fear of the figure and the likely possibility that the lump in the figures robe was some sort of weapon. The figure turned and noticed him. The the white and ghostly skin where one of the figures eyebrows should have been raised, as if to suggest he was slightly taken aback by this strange arrival. Delemir stopped dead on the spot.
"Maybe if I don't move, he won't notice me, he has no pupils in his eyes afterall.", thought Delemir. Delemir had thought wrong. The whooshing noise grew to a rather rhythmic roar and the lump in the figures robe moved slightly. The figure took out a completely white hand from his folded robe and pointed one of his ghostly fingers at Delemir. His nails were pointed and jagged, like a broken mountaintop. The whooshing noise was now all Delemir could hear, and the figure opened his squint mouth to reveal rotted and pointed teeth. He looked like he was about to shout something when Delemir woke up with a start, panting like he'd just run an extremely long distance. He sighed and returned to a restless sleep for the remainder of the night.