Legends of Belariath

Twilight Harmony

Half breed... simple words but ones I have grown to despise. It was both my sentence and my crime. To be judged and hated for the impure blood that flows in my veins. For you see I was never to have been born. The High Elves are a race which pride themselves upon upholding honor. The deeds of the child bringing glory to both them and their parents. But impure blood can not breed, it can not continue the line of honor and glory. My words were true when I told you I was never to have been born. For though an elf may take a mistress, it a secret that is never to be brought to light. My mother was human, not only would my birth bring scandal, the child would be impure. My mother's days as a mistress would end the moment it was learned she was with child, for no man would invite scandal. She was not cast out however as she was skilled in the healing arts. (A knowledge that would be passed on to the child.) Healers were a precious commodity and a village could never have too many. So it was that I spent my youth among the high elves.

I was a clever child, quickly learning to make my way among my pure blooded kin. My father's blood would prove the stronger, making it both a blessing and a curse that I could pass for one of the pure blood. I need only keep my ears covered and my head down, hiding the unusual mismatched coloring of my eyes.I could not hide forever though. After all my mother was human and I not yet of age to leave her side.

I had grown to inherit my mother's beauty. A fact that did not escape the notice of the village's men. It was a slaver who prove to have noticed the most. I learned to avoid the men, who would leer and sometimes pull at my clothing. For although my mixed blood made me unfit to wed, it marked me the perfect mistress. For it left me barren and thus no child would be born to bring scandal. The man who took me had only to be clever and his honor would remain intact. It was one of my father's kinswomen who would grant me a means of escaping the men. Little did I know that in trusting her I would fall into enemy hands.

I had no sooner fled to her offered safety when she turned on me, the blade of her dagger pressed to my throat. The full force of her treachery would be brought home to me a few moments later when a branding iron burned her mark into the fresh at the back of my neck. I had fallen into the hands of a slaver and was to be sold to the highest bidder during the morrow's auction. But fate had other plans for me. I had been injured with the branding, the hot iron causing me to flinch and slice my throat upon the woman's dagger. It was a shallow cut but left untended I would be too weak to be put upon the block. It was a human healer who would answer her summons. The woman slaver had unknowingly erred and let my salvation in through the front door. The healer she'd sent for was none other then my mother. My mother tended to my wound, whispering plans of escape in her native tongue. (Which fate had been kind enough to see that only the two of us understood.) She then sent the slaver's guard away, with the assumption that she had been ordered to check for any other injures or bruises. (General practise as flawed merchandise brought a lower price.) Once alone we scrambled under the tent's wall trusting in the cover of night to hide our escape.

We would reach the forest at the edge of the village before our escape was discovered. Shouts and men bearing torches would follow close at our heels, cries of runaway slave filling my ears. I escaped their notice having taken to the treetops. My mother would not be so lucky. She had stayed aground running on to draw the mob away from me. I would not see when they found her, but her death cry rang in my ears. (Haunting my dreams even to this day.) I spent the rest of the night and the next morning huddled in the tree top waiting for the men to return. Waiting for death to find me... But death was not to be my fate. With the morn came the rain, a great down pour that made vision impossible even for elven eyes and put an end to their search. I scrambled down the tree drenched even before I reached the bottom. I had to move on, the search would begin again the moment the rain let up. I would like to say that I found my mother's body and saw it buried, but sadly I did not. I stumbled on through the rain that left me shaking with cold, unknowing where I was heading or if I'd even live to see the next morning.

By the time the rain stopped I was numb and burning with fever. I might very well have died before reaching the next village if my mother had not thrust her healing supplies in my hands when she bid my stay in the trees. Looking back I think she knew that night would be her last.

I have wandered every night since then, moving from village to village, town to town plying my skills as a healer to earn my living. I am still a half breed, still outcast... but I know that though my blood is not pure, the fates still have a plan for me. I still blame the high elves for my mother's death.. part of me always will. But I am a healer now and as such must learn to look beyond my hatred for them. Perhaps the day will come when my want for vengeance burns only for my father's village and not for all of High Elven race.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They claim time can heal all wounds... and so it has smoothed the aching of my heart. At long last my wandering is ended and I have found a place to call home. Belariath... a land where the races mingle like drops of water. A land were one is judged by deeds and not blood alone. There I have been granted rise to my calling and the freedom to earn my place among the noticed. Under the guildence of the healers guild my talents have blossomed to the point where I am now a valued addition to their staff and oversee the training of those newly arrived. I only regret that I was so long in finding this haven.. I have found many friends here but it is the cats I adore the most. One above all others... Selvin. He is gentle and kind. Everything that I had once thought lost to the cruelness of my homeland. Through him I have learned to trust once more. I still can not forgive my father's people for the pains they have caused me. But with my kitten's help I'm learning not to let the anger burn so brightly. I am even coming to terms with being half elven. Granted I still have a long way to go, but I no longer fear and hate all elves. Perhaps there is hope for me yet..

BACK