This story is copyright of Gary Allen and is reprinted in Gateway Monthly by kind permission of the author

It was not as though Eleri enjoyed being contrary. She hated the way everyone treated her; the pursed reproving stares and whispered comments her arrival always prompted, but she could not change who she was, not even to gain the acceptance of her own kin. Annoyed at her family and neighbors, and angry with herself for letting them get to her, Eleri slammed the aged scroll case down on her desk.

'Just what do you think you're doing?' the venerable Erde hissed, making Eleri jump, scattering the other cases and parchments across the scriptorium's slate floor. Shrieking in outrage, Erde threw up her hands in dismay. 'My undoing! That is what you will be, foolish child!' the leathery scribe squawked at Erde, who blushed and dove to the ground to gather up the precious papers. Erde scowled down at the blonde curly mop of her assistant's bobbing head. 'My undoing, that's what you'll be!'

'I meant no harm,' Eleri muttered, as Erde continued to complain over her. The scribe was short, even by Moruk standards, but she cast a terrifying shadow over Eleri.

Erde jabbed a bony finger in her assistant's ribs, 'You're useless. I should never have listened to your grandmother. I can't afford idiots around these precious documents.' Eleri sat back on her heel and started to mouth a contrite apology, but looking up at the enraged scribe, she felt her own anger brewing like a storm.

She set her precious bundle back down on her desk and rounded on Erde, 'You're a mean, nasty woman, who treats everyone with contempt. I chase around after you, doing all your ask, and not one word of thanks do I ever get. I made a mistake, and I apologized. That should be enough.'

The scribe took a backward step, a bony hand lifted to her throat, 'How dare you speak to me that way. You of all people.'

Eleri felt the color rise to her cheeks, 'Me of all people? What's that supposed to mean?'

Frightened by what she saw in her assistant's eyes, Erde took a backward step, 'I'll not see you ruin my life's work. Out! Get out! I never want to see you here again.'

'Why me of all people?' Eleri insisted.

'You're ~ you're a witch!' Erde breathed, and backed into one of the shelves of scrolls with a terrified expression. As she stood glaring at the scribe, Eleri was tempted for the merest moment to live up to lies told about her and let loose the power she kept coiled within, but instead she turned on her heel and marched across the scriptorium.

'You don't deserve me,' she called over her shoulder and slammed the door after her.

Hunched within one of the tunnels off the arcade, Eleri wept a scatter of tears as she watched the carefree folk of Udzkala about their daily business. Her father's folk, the Moruk, were industrious as they were stiff-necked. Their labors had carved this fair city in the living rock, and their skill had turned what could have been a place of shadow into a dwelling of beauty and light. The Moruk were nothing short of masters with stone, jewels and metal, and their skill as craftsmen was only surpassed by their distrust of those who chose to live under the sky, rather than under the ground. Daughter of a human, a remarkable Cûn shaman who had fallen in love with a Moruk silversmith, Eleri possessed neither the Moruk skill with her hands nor a love of the deep earth. While other Moruk maids her age were pondering suitors or learning a craft, she wanted nothing more to explore the wide world which stretched under the sky. Worse yet, she delighted in the gifts she had inherited from her late mother, the powers which would have marked her as a shaman amongst the Cûn, but labeled her as a witch amongst the Moruk.

Setting aside her tears with an angry toss of her head, Eleri stood and found herself the subject of gaping scrutiny of a mother, her two children peering from around her dress. The middle-aged Moruk woman's gray and leathery face drew tight as a result of being caught staring, and she hurried off without a word.

'I'll be the subject of scorn and scandal no longer,' Eleri pronounced in a loud voice after the rude woman, though she was speaking more to herself than anyone else.

* * *

The Fradut spire was one of the natural wonders of Udzkala, and it was Eleri's favorite spot to visit when she needed to think. The spire was in fact a sinkhole, which had been widened by eons of dripping water. The erosion had revealed veins of gold and other precious metals, which caught the light and shone in shafts deep into the spire. At times, Fradut seemed to burn with a golden fire, and the falling water added its own natural music to the awesome scene. Moruk engineers had worked to accentuate Fradut's natural beauty, and though it was not the most popular of Udzkala's achievements, it never ceased to move Eleri. Standing on one of the platforms suspended within the deep spire, Eleri stared upward and let the water run over the contours of her face.

'It is lovely here isn't it?' a voice pronounced, and Eleri jumped because she thought she was alone. When she turned, she found an elderly Moruk seated on one of the covered benches in the shadows at the back of the platform. Shrunken by age, he was little more than four feet tall, but his dark eyes twinkled in the shimmering light. 'I've seen you here often, haven't I?'

'Yes,' she mumbled. Unlike full-blooded Moruk, who rarely stood over five feet and whose skin was a gray patchwork of creases, Eleri's pale skin was freckled and she was almost four inches taller than any other member of her family. Though she had the customary broad nose and heavy frame of her father's people, her blonde hair was curled and her eyes more blue than black. At that moment, Eleri felt every one of those differences, and she could see them reflected in the old man's eyes. She stood out wherever she went, that was why the old man recognized her.

Apparently unaware of her discomfort, he started unpacking his lunch, 'I like coming here to think. Our people can be so busy, it's nice to have somewhere quiet to go and ponder life's little problems.' Eleri nodded dumbly in reply, and fought the impulse to use her talent to read his mind. Perhaps he had really not heard of her and was just a kind old man who wanted to be friendly.

'Father,' a tired woman exclaimed from the platform's entrance. 'I told you this place is too cold and damp for a man your age.' The woman stopped when she saw Eleri standing there, and she paled. Eleri's expression hardened because it was clear this woman knew who she was and did not approve. Without another word the stranger hurried across to her father, bundled up his few belongings and began herding him back off the platform. The tight-lipped daughter ignored the old man's irate protests, until she thought she was out of Eleri's earshot. Do you realize who that was?' Eleri didn't catch the old man's reply. 'The witch!' was the exasperated daughter's answer. 'You're lucky she didn't do something unnatural to you. I don't want you coming to this place again.' Eleri felt choked by the injustice and her pain. She closed her eyes and let Fradut's waters wash away her tears.

'Well if she likes this place, she can't be all bad,' the old man's voice carried back to where Eleri stood weeping.

* * *

'You said what to the Scribe?' Eleri's grandmother gasped, as always scandalized by her son's contrary daughter. Looking up from the task of filling her pack, the young woman regarded her only living female relative with a tired smile.

'It doesn't matter, Nanna,' she replied with a sigh. She didn't want to leave her grandmother or her home, but she knew she would never be accepted or fit in here.

'And what am I to do while you go hide out in the wasteland?' the old woman snapped, her tone failing to conceal her concern for her granddaughter.

Resuming the task of packing the things she would need, Eleri sighed but would not look up, 'You have father and my uncles to look after you.' When the old woman's petulant scowl remained unchanged, Eleri eyed her with a frown of her own, 'And it's not a wasteland. The valleys are beautiful. At least there I am not considered a freak.'

* * *

The perfume of the wild blossoms filled Eleri's nostrils and she stretched out her fingers to stroke the swaying flowers as she walked across the glade. The sun felt good on her skin, and she allowed herself to revel in the simple pleasure of an unfamiliar trail under her scuffed but comfy boots.

'This is where I belong,' she told the forest, and laughed with delight before striding into the cool shadows of the ancient trees.

The valley offered one of only a few approaches to the peaks under which the Moruk had built Udzkala. It also was the easiest way down from the mountains to the lower valleys where her mother's people, the Cûn built their domed homes in the sun, called caraeths. Eleri whistled to herself as she hiked down the steep valley. She was not sure how long it was going to take to find the Cûn, but she had plenty of food and was sure it would not be too hard. Besides, after being cramped in the scriptorium so long, it was good to stretch her legs.

The exercise of a hike down the steep valley was invigorating. Somewhere deep under her feet was a tunnel and stretching staircase, which the Moruk had built to link Udzkala with the township under a beacon at the valley's feet. Torqued marked the eastern extent of Udzkala, and the small township supported the watchtowers which guarded against the approach of enemies. Going by the Long Stair would have been faster and easier, but Eleri enjoyed the sun and swaying trees. Pausing to take a sip from her waterskin, Eleri's expression grew strained for a moment. Though she would never have admitted it, Eleri was worried whether the Cûn would welcome her. True, she had the Gift, but her Moruk heritage would make her appear even stranger to her mother's people than she did to the people of Udzkala. After only a few more steps she paused again at a fallen tree, and looked furtively back towards the northern gate of her home. With a soul-weary sigh she lent her head against the humbled bole, and tried to sort out her feelings. Did she really belong anywhere? What she so strange she was supposed to be alone?

'Perhaps you should just wander the forest trails,' she told herself, before wiping her threatening tears away. Eleri was about to press on when a barking laugh echoed through the trees towards her.

Pressed flat atop the boulder, Eleri peered down into the camp and bit her lip. What were Jahd doing here this close to the city? Though the Jahd were human, like her mother's people, they shared very little in common with the Cûn. While the Cûn were largely a peaceable folk, who traded with the other denizens of the high country and had a spiritual connection to the lands of their home, the bloodthirsty clans made ceaseless war upon each other and the other peoples of the high country. A typical Jahd could stand as tall as seven feet, was covered in crude tattoos and seemed to delight only in battle. The Jahd built their homes high in the mountains, and they were ancient enemies of the Moruk. More than one Moruk town had been destroyed by the senseless and brutal raids the Jahd launched against them. The townships surrounding Udzkala were accustomed to facing the Jahd, but this was the largest gathering of the barbarians Eleri had ever seen. In her heart she understood the numbers and their presence this close to Udzkala's northern gate; they meant to attack the ancient city. As she lay watching the warriors wrestle and carouse, Eleri's heart turned to stone. Perhaps the people of Udzkala had treated her with little more than contempt, but they did not deserve the fate the Jahd would bring. The thought of her fair home defiled by the bloody hands of the barbarians, and the innocent folk at the mercy of the Jahd warriors, made Eleri tremble with fear and rage. Whatever her feelings for the Moruk and their ignorance, she would not stand idly by and let them die.

Easing back from the boulder's edge, Eleri slid off the boulder and turned to run, only to find herself face to face with the cuir bouilli cuirass of a huge Jahd warrior. Her terrified scream was cut short when the snarling warrior flipped her unconscious to the ground with a casual cuff.

* * *

'Wake, little mouse,' a harsh voice commanded, in a strangled version of Ilook, the Moruk tongue. Eleri's dry mouth was dry and tasted of blood, and when she tried to open her eyes, she found one was swollen shut. She was tied by her wrists between the boles of two huge trees. Her gear lay scattered around her, in the remains of her pack. Her torn clothes hung from her body, and Eleri felt the stares of the hooting gathering of Jahd males crawling over the bared patches of her skin. Standing over her, holding a wicked-looking barbed knife was a huge Jahd woman. Moving with unmistakable grace and power, the Jahd spun and struck one of the leering men off his feet, before shrieking for quiet.

'What do you want?' Eleri croaked.

'The secrets of your city,' a warrior with an angry scar where his right eye should be, pronounced, licking his lips as he stared at Eleri's barely-covered chest.

Silencing the scarred warrior with a dark look, the woman rounded on Eleri, 'Yes, you tell how to get in city quick or you die slow.' She motioned to the expectant faces of the gathered Jahd men, 'And give fun to our warriors.'

Terrified and repulsed, Eleri did her best to keep her voice calm when she replied, 'Iam an outcast. I do not know the secrets you seek.' She met the woman warrior's stare, praying she would accept the lie.

The Jahd shrugged, as though Eleri's words were of little import, 'Perhaps, but I think no. We see if your story stays the same.' More than able to imagine what was coming, Eleri whimpered.

'I will tell you,' was her defeated reply. This was greeted by a single barked response from the female and disappointed snarls from the gathering.

* * *

The hike back to the lower gate into Udzkala was a hell of pain, fear and degradation. The Jahd had collared Eleri with one of the spiked leather straps they used for their massive beardogs, as though she were nothing more than a beast. She was pushed semi-clad ahead of the column of warriors, and her keeper would occasionally tug upon her leash, sending her sprawling in the mud, to the obvious amusement of those warriors in the column's vanguard. Eleri's boots were gone and she stumbled along, her muddy feet covered in blisters and cuts. She was surrounded by the huge dogs the Jahd used to pull their sleds and for hunting, their gagging smell filling her nostrils and their drooling presence heightening her fear. Every sob and moan seemed only to amuse her captors more, but the trembling young lass was powerless to stay silent. Yet under her terrified exterior, a calculating part of Eleri worked. The stranger who so frightened her neighbors and peers was at work, though her Jahd tormentors were oblivious to the thoughts and energies within her.

It seemed the Jahd army had somehow got past the Moruk watchtowers which guarded the pass into the valley, so the people of Udzkala were unaware of the danger marching towards them. Even without her help, the Jahd would almost certainly storm the weakest of her city's entrances, and come pouring inside before a proper defense could be mounted. It would take an army many times the size of this force to raze Udzkala, but there were more than enough warriors here to exact a horrible price. Behind her terrified exterior Eleri calmly reasoned these Jahd intended to raid, claim whatever prizes they could, and retreat. All her life she had did her best to conceal and deny her Gift. She had done her best to fit in, but it was time to embrace who she truly was. She just hoped she was strong enough to reach Edret, the old campaigner who commanded the City Guard.

[DANGER, Edret. Danger, danger, enemies come, oh Old Father. So many, come, come, they come,] she babbled out into the Astral, unable to keep her emotions from spilling over into her attempted sending. Though in the past she had caught snippets of the thoughts of others, she had never before tried to consciously send a message to another, and she was not even sure it was possible for a 'normal' to receive such a sending. She closed her eyes and did her best to calm her raging nerves, [Edret, hear me! DANGER!] The effort was too much, and she lost control of her terror once more, [Danger, come, pain, help me! To arms, defend the lower gate, Jahd come, so many, guard, danger!] she babbled again. A splitting headache lanced through her skull, and Eleri stumbled into the path of one of the huge beardogs. The massive white animal snarled belligerently down at the girl, baring fangs which were longer than Eleri's hand. She cowered under the enraged animal, sure it would attack, until one of the Jahd pulled it away. She was unceremoniously scooped up, before being thrust once more onward.

Eleri's heart fell when they came in sight of the lower gate. The outer defense stood open, the ramparts unmanned, and only a stout door stood between the Jahd and her home. Despite her gift, despite her efforts, she had failed, and now the blood of her people would be on her conscience. The despondent lass was considering screaming a warning or doing something else foolhardy, when she became aware of the nervous but disciplined auras crouched just within the city gate. At that moment she perceived more than one hundred Moruk warriors lying in wait for the approaching Jahd. She had done it! Her people were ready and lying in ambush!

Eyeing the numbers of Jahd, their bristling weapons and expectant beardogs, Eleri realized even with the benefit of surprise her people would have a hard time of it. The waiting defenders were outnumbered, and the Jahd were formidable warriors. She needed to give the Moruk some further advantage, but what? At that moment her leash was roughly jerked backward, so she fell into the arms of a leering warrior. She struggled ineffectually, until the woman warrior loomed over her.

'Tell us secrets now, or die,' she hissed. Knowing this might be the only chance for the waiting defenders, Eleri bowed her head, as if in defeat. Rather than answering she sent her will lancing towards the triumphant Jahd woman. Her will skewered past the warrior's natural defenses. Though Eleri was aware of the Jahd’s thoughts, she ignored them and instead forced an alien suggestion into the warrior's resisting mind. The Jahd's eyes seemed to glaze for a moment, but she shook her head, as though she were dislodging an insect, and Eleri feared she had failed. Without another word the Jahd spun on her heel, before sprinting towards the gate, hooting and flapping her hands as she ran. The Jahd column roared with laughter, sure this was some display of the contempt their leader held for the Moruk and their mighty city.

[Now!] Eleri managed to send, before she sank exhausted to the ground. She was unaccustomed to using her talent so much and she was consumed by a wave of exhaustion and nausea. Indifferent to their collapsed prisoner, the Jahd watched their leader dance before the city gate. Their laughter died in their throats when she was struck down by four crossbow bolts from the ramparts and a sea of screaming Moruk warriors came flowing out through the gate.

* * *

It seemed every inch of Eleri's body was battered and bruised, but she managed a nod of thanks when Edret handed her a skin of mead.

'You heard me,' she said in a small voice, wondering how the white-haired warrior would react to proof of her witchcraft. A veteran of many campaigns, the old man stroked his plaited beard and nodded.

'You did well,' he finally replied in his deep timbre.

Surprised, Eleri met the old campaigner's frank stare, 'But I'm a witch,' she answered lamely.

He shook his head, 'Nah. You're a Moruk lass and braver than most in the Guard.' He regarded her with a wicked grin, 'Most.'