��� ��� Bleary emerald eyes watched the sun make it's daily climb over the mountains. Unkempt hair tickled a tear smudged cheek before it was pushed behind an ear. A lone figure stood in the trees, fists curled at her sides, hatred etched into her every line.
��� ��� Flame knew she was close to the border of the Lyeazic country. Even exhaustion and too much drink couldn't dull the mental map she was forced to learn all those years ago. There was never any doubt where Thistle had been taken, all she had to do was go.
��� ��� Day and night she traveled, using her feet instead of the melding, so as not to alert the black elves of her presence. It was because of this that she found Briar following her, trying to move with a stealth that was beyond his experience as of yet, there was very little that could sneak past Flame's Earth sense. There was no question of his continuing along with her. Children did not belong on such quests, and that was that.
��� ��� She swayed a little on her feet, the lack of sleep and food beginning to take their toll on her body. An ember throbbed in her throat, and the swaying stopped, every muscle in her body going rigid. A single thought kept her on her feet, beyond the limits of endurance.
��� ��� Thistle needed her.
��� ��� The sun sat poised over the mountains, like a high wire act, and Flame moved from the trees. She walked purposefully towards the border, her steps nearly noiseless, though in broad day light, it mattered little.
��� ��� Flame strode with a single mindedness that courted insanity. She'd spent days after Storm left berating herself for cowardice till she couldn't stand it any longer. Guilt drove her as much as the more altruistic emotions did, she couldn't lie about that. It lengthened her stride when her energy flagged and it kept her course firm when her doubt reared, asking if this was the wisest thing to do.
��� ��� So focused Flame was, that she failed to notice the hunting party, till it was almost too late. The bolt hissed through the air, clipping her shoulder. Fire raced through her arm...it was silver burn.
��� ��� Roaring, Flame spun to meet her attackers head on, and narrowly dodged a second bolt. The smell reached her nose, the odor that identified only one race of beings, the Lyeazic. Peeling back her lips, Flame's eyes glowed with a crimson light, and she was rewarded with shouts and curses coming from a stand of trees.
��� ��� There was no use in running, and the Earth here disliked her, being connected to the people that lived upon it. So she stood her ground, knocking aside bolts, and barking out taunts in the liquid tongue of the dark elves.
��� ��� ''I know you pride yourselves on being the cleansers of the world! Ridding everyone of the threat posed by the impure! Well, here I am! Come out and fight me fair you tar baby cowards!''
��� ��� ''Fair fighting does not apply when dealing with the tainted...'' called one of the elves, and was promptly hushed by his brethren. The shooting stopped, and several figures stepped out into the light.
��� ��� ''A fair fight was called, a fair battle shall be fought. Our reward, the riddance of another taint. Your reward...your life, for now.''
��� ��� ''I know your rules, coal lump...but I have important business, and don't have all day to spend chasing you around this clearing, so I'm going to just get it over with quickly.'' Flame's words hadn't ended before she threw herself at her would be assassins.
��� ��� The pair of steel Dahn Jasan glinted in her hands, as she spun them out and up in guard, just in time to meet the first elf's sword. Roaring a challenge, Flame began a dance with these elves, one that would end only in blood. It met one, three, seven, a dozen finally in this dance, the hunting party all engaging the Quickning.
��� ��� Flame hadn't worked for all those years to be so quickly defeated, even by multiple foes. Moving sometimes faster than the eye could follow, she soon had nearly half of the elves dead in the grass. The others continued to press their attack, knowing that soon enough she'd make a mistake, something that would allow them to slip through her guard of whirling steel.
��� ��� If she had been fresh, and not plagued by worry, and wracked by guilt, then perhaps she'd have been able to finish off all the elves. But her body was tiring, even with help from the artifact, and soon enough, she missed a block, the silver edged sword slicing a burning gash across her chest.
��� ��� Renewed fury sustained her for a while, but it wasn't enough. She managed to drive one last elf to an early grave when the remaining five drove in at once, making it impossible for her to block everything. A scream of pain tore from her as another silver edged sword drove into her side. The Jasan dropped from her hands, and she fell to her knees, eyes beginning to roll up in her head from shock.
��� ��� ''And so, a bit more taint is expunged from the fertile fields of the earth,'' one Lyeazic intoned, the words sounding like a ritual.
��� ��� ''Let it be free of the shackles of taint.'' The remaining elves responded together, bowing their heads. The first speaker raised his sword, pausing as he closed his eyes in silent offering, allowing the elation that a sacred office was being fulfilled in this were's death.
��� ��� It was this pause that allowed Warrior the time she needed to grab hold of the body, throw it into shift, and make a run for it. Surprised cursing followed, and the tiger could hear the sound of bolts hissing through the air around her. Ducking through the trees, she struggled with the burns, pushing the already fatigued body further beyond its limits.
��� ��� Almost to the border, and we can meld, Warrior thought, willing her four legs to pump harder. A last bit of trees, and they'd be free.
��� ��� That's when the bolt hit her haunch. Pouring fire down her leg and over her hips. Her stride faltered, her rear end sinking as pain caused her to lose control over the limbs. She snarled, digging front claws into the ground, pulling herself towards the boarder that was just out of reach. The sound of Lyeazic voices grew closer, their ritual intonations buzzing in ears filled with ringing.
��� ��� Just another foot, another inch, they weren't going to win. Warrior heaved their abused body with all the might and will she possessed.
��� ��� The Earth bucked, and for an instant Warrior knew that failure was swift on their heals. Then the soothing blackness closed about them, cooling the burn, and offering oblivion. Still feeling failure at her back, Warrior allowed herself to be seduced by sleep, and succumbed to the temptation.
��� ��� It was a long while before either Flame or Warrior woke.

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''One Chance'' Copyright � 1999 Jessica Cahil