A Dark Dawn

Today I'm gonna write. Sit tight and listen if you care to, please don't criticize my errors, there will be many, but right now, I just want to get it all down.

Mauria was sitting as still as she could. Her words pounded in her head. I am a shadow. I am a shadow. Then she heard it. Soft, at first, then slowly louder as the objects of her vigil approached. The walked past her, none the wiser of her presence and continued to be unaware as she shadowed them into the woods. The dark velveteen sky and the scattered diamond stars were quickly hidden by the cloaking branches of the trees Had Mauria not know what she was listening for, she would have lost them quickly, but she knew the sound of their voices as well as she knew the land, and the had no chance of hiding from her. She ghosted after them, listening intently to their soft conversation.

"She said she will be here, do not worry my friend, she will come."

"Ah, but she is of the blood, is she not? And the blood are not to be trusted. That is a truth that e all know."

"You'll find it wise to trust me. I know Mauria personally, she will come through. Don't you worry on that account. What I would worry about, if I were you, is whether or not Mauria will trust you enough not to cut you down where you stand."

Mauria grinned as she heard the man whimper, such a coward! He was spinning his role well. 

"Stop here." Salamari's* voice rang out, resonating, as always, in a firm and commanding way that suggested that she was the sort that was far greater than you were.

Mauria waited carefully in the trees, watching as Salamari continued to speak to the man. "Here is where I'll take my leave. Blessed be you, Marod*, son of the night." Salamari melted into the shadows, as if she had never truly been. 

Mauria stepped forward cautiously. She was uncertain of this man, who looked only to be the same age as she, but Mauria knew that if he was he one who she had always heard whispers of, then he was possibly far older, and that the appearance that he withheld was only that, an appearance. 

"Marod," Mauria's voice was soft, but the man turned to it as if she had spoken normally.

"And you, Mauria, the first Nithagrian, the wise one, the secret-keeper, the wielder of Belfaron*, the champion of the Virtues, the foretold returner of balance."

Mauria tilted her head forward, affirming his assumptions. "That may be true, but I do not hold as many secrets as you do, warlock."

Marod smiled a wicked grin "So you know my secret. Something Salamari told you?" His eyes followed her as she slowly began to circle him.

"Not at all, I guessed a long time ago, when these trees were still young, what you were," Mauria's smile was as equally malevolent as Marod's had been, "and it turns out that I was correct. Despite all appearances, I am not all that you think. The names that have been given upon me are not all without reason." Mauria stopped circling him, she knew that he found it unnerving, and stared him in the eye, waiting for him to again speak. 

Marod's lips twitched once more into a smile, thins one more friendly than the one before. "Ah, Mauria. The years have been long without you nearby to pester me, old friend. You would not have sought me out without good reason though, you assured me of that the last time we met. Tell me, what is it that you seek, or is it some information that you wish to bestow upon my shoulders as you did so often in the past."

Mauria's face darkened, as if a cloud had passed over the light that ha moments before shone upon it. "I need to get contact with the Mourning Stars."

*(Sal-uh-MAURE-ee) also known as the White Griffin, she is a good friend of Mauria's, something of a mentor to the young girl. 

(MARE-odd) 

(bell-FAR-on) Mauria's sword, one of the 10 great blades.