Aniewiel Silvermane Tae

***This is an edited version of a story from another world/adventure. I have edited it to fit within Tyria. Luthiel is the husband of Aniewiel.***


Anie knew immediately when Luthiel left the Crown Lands. This, in and of itself, was not unusual. He often traveled outside ‘civilized’ lands hunting the evil that infested this world. But this time something was different. Luthiel was not on a hunt. He was running away and he was in pain, his mind in turmoil of worry and anxiety.

Anie knew these things instinctively. It was as if Luthiel shared a part of her mind. She knew his thoughts, his well being, his concerns and his joys. It had always been this way for them though others scoffed and said that such a bond could only come through a priest's ceremony. But what others thought was of no consequence. She knew what she knew and she would not allow Luthiel to crawl off on his own to spare her whatever it was that troubled him.

Whistling softly to Baera, her black stalker, Anie shrugged her pack onto her back, slung her bow over a shoulder and closed her eyes momentarily to gain a sense of Luthiel’s direction. Finding him, she struggled to her feet and began to follow after. Anie’s pregnancy was in late term and she could not move with the speed she would like. Because of this, she planned to take shorter paths in order to save time and find him more rapidly.

Anie and Baera began traveling through the Shiverpeaks. Usually a place of great solace, it seemed colder than normal and Anie was filled with a sense of dread. She shivered, trying to dislodge the feelings and the two trudged along for a time. Baera’s own pregnancy was slowing her and she kept close to Anie’s side. Anie’s mind was restless and her usual keen sense of danger was buried beneath her own anxiety for Luthiel. Her first sense that something was amiss came when she heard a low growl coming from Baera. Glancing at her beloved stalker, Anie followed her gaze.

Not fifty paces in front of them stood five Stone Summit dwarves. Among them Anie detected a mage of some considerable power. Reflexively, her hand flew to her side, the site of an earlier and fatal wound inflicted by a Summit mage. It had only been through the intervention of the Melandru that Anie had lived again to tell the tale.

The dwarves had spied them so there would be no slipping by unnoticed. Anie quickly got her bow in hand and nocked an arrow. Before the Summit dwarves could react, she crouched and scuttled behind a large rock near the path. Baera’s ears lay flat upon her head and she moved with quiet grace off to the other side.

Two warriors came at them. Baera met them in the middle of the path, her claws flying with deadly ferocity. Time and again she lunged at them, ripping their light armor and their softer flesh. But these attacks did not come without a price. Baera sustained several cuts, one or two particularly deep. Still she kept on and Anie let her arrows fly at the three still ahead on the path. She easily felled one of the archers, trying to catch sight of the mage. Anie finally spotted her but she could not get a clear shot. Anie saw her arms rise into the air as she prepared her spells of death.

Out of the corner of her eye, Anie saw that Baera had dispatched one of the dwarves and that the other was terribly wounded, entrails dangling from his belly. Baera delivered the killing blow and moved up the path, circling the archer. Anie took careful aim and sent arrow after arrow flying through the chill morning air. She frowned in puzzlement as the arrows missed their mark time and again. The mage had cast some sort of protective spell over this one. Again, Anie tried to find the mage but could not get a clear shot.

In that instant while she was looking elsewhere, an arrow struck her high in the chest, a second slammed into her upper arm. She hissed in pain and her arm dropped to her side, unable to draw back her bowstring. Her head shot up as Baera cried out in fear and rage as the dwarf mage sent a swirling ball of fire into her. The air was filled with the stench of burning hair as Baera’s eyes widened with terror. In a monumental show of effort, Baera, though gravely injured, lunged at the archer, bringing him down. She tore out his throat and looked up only to see another fireball hurtling through the air. Baera did not have time to react and was hit squarely in the face. She howled, fell and was silent.

As if in a dream, Anie watched helplessly as Baera was slain. It seemed that time was moving with aching slowness. Her own cry of fury cracked the morning air and she grabbed her swords, oblivious to the pain in her arm and chest. Her hands were slick with her own blood but she managed to hold on. Charging down the path, she threw herself at the mage in what was certainly a blood rage.

Time continued its slow march and Anie noticed the dwarf mage assessing her condition…both that of her pregnancy and her wounds. A small smile played at the corners of the mage’s mouth, not a smile of friendliness, but a smile of knowledge that she would surely be the victor. She again raised her arms as Anie approached. She began to utter words that Anie could not understand. Knowing that she only had a moment’s time, she lunged at the mage in a vain effort to stop the incantation. Too late she realized that there would be no stopping her. The fireball flew from the fingers of the dwarf and Anie threw herself to the side. Landing on her belly, she instantly felt the pain of her child within. She grunted and rolled to her back. It was only the move to the side saved her from certain death. As it was, the fireball struck her in the legs. She cried out in agony and rolled on the ground in an attempt to stop the fire.

Anie’s hands still clutched her swords though how was beyond her. The pain coursing through her body was nearly unbearable and she fought to maintain consciousness. She lay there staring up at the morning sky offering a desperate prayer to Melandru.

“Please, Melandru, please spare the life of my child. Allow me to vanquish the evil that You have set before me and help me reach Luthiel. In Your infinite wisdom, allow me the strength to finish what I have been sent here to do….to see evil wiped from the face of the world and to replace it with innocence and joy…”

Anie’s voice faded away as a thrill of energy coursed through her. She knew that her prayers had been answered. She turned her head with the slightest motion, her eyes barely open to see where the dwarf was now. She still stood several paces away and seemed to be checking on Anie’s condition, a broad smile on her face. Anie closed her eyes to the smallest slits. She lay motionless and waited.

The mage approached cautiously at first but, sensing her enemy’s defeat, she hastened the last few steps. She bent down next to Anie’s prostrate body and began to reach for her. Without a moment’s hesitation, Anie’s eyes opened and her off-hand sword whirled through the air as she turned her body to its side. In the instant it took for the sword to reach its mark, Anie saw the mage’s eyes open with surprise and terror. Her sword flashed in the sun as it buried itself in the mage’s throat. The blood flowed down the blade and onto Anie’s arm as she gave it one final twist. The woman collapsed on top of her and with her last strength, she pushed the body off of her, rolled to the side, losing consciousness.

Anie woke with a start in a world filled with the gray light marking the approach of night. She was unable to determine where she was or what had happened. She tried to move and was wracked with nearly unbearable pain. She hardly maintained her wakefulness. She lay still for a time assessing the damage inflicted on her body. Her first thought was for Luthiel’s child. Crying out in the pain of movement, her bloodied hands flew to her abdomen and she pressed upon it feeling for movement within. Anie knew that the baby had been hurt but how badly she could not know. She pressed down on her flesh and felt the barest of kicks within. She knew the child would not live long if she did not find Luthiel and a healer soon.

Ignoring her agony, Anie struggled to sit up. Her head swam for a minute and she steadied herself by leaning on a nearby boulder. Looking around she found herself surrounded by carnage. Five dead Stone Summit dwarves lay nearby and there, over near a tree, lay Baera…beloved Baera…silent and unmoving. Tears flowed at the sight of her companion, her first true friend, lying there. Her once beautiful black fur was now matted with blood and burned away in many places. Anie forced herself to her knees and, gritting her teeth against the pain, she crawled over to her.

Anie buried her face in what was left of Baera’s fur, breathing in her smell for the last time. She thanked Melandru for Baera’s companionship through the years and she released Baera into Her care. She knew she could not grieve now…there was no time. Later she would weep for her lost friend and the cubs she had carried.

Anie laid her head upon Baera, unable to move. The excruciating pain was simply too much at the moment. Anie was aware that she would not be able to travel to Luthiel. Instead, she would have to trust –his- sense of her. She closed her eyes and forced her mind to find her awareness of him. It was difficult to focus through her pain but when she found him, the impressions were white hot. He knew of her agony, her loss. He was coming. Anie found a measure of peace in this and allowed herself to rest for a moment. She was so tired. She would just sleep for a short time and then he would come to her as he always had before….