Another encounter

Lillian waited some minutes, wrapping herself in the ranger's cloak, then she turned around. Her eyes narrowed, as if she was aiming for something.

"You may come out now. I know you're here!" Lillian's voice was calm and determined.

A bush next to one of the towering rocks, that founded this secluded grove, moved. Leaves rustled and an almost ethereal figure stepped into the open. He was tall and slender. He had long, shimmering blonde hair, flowing around him like a myriad of veils. His features were delicate, if not fragile. He moved with grace, but there was an undeterminable strength underneath. He wore light, waving clothes in the colors of wood and sky.

"Tennelle ya shedera Imae Adajan. Caerleon negèza il'manh." His voice sang like a harp and vibrated like a bow string on the shot.

Lillian shook her head. "Sorry. I don't speak the tongue of my ancestors."

"I see," the elf replied. not showing any sign of offense. He came closer. "My name is Caerleon and I welcome you to Imae Adajan, the Long Living Woods."

"I'm Lillian. From Tabriz."

The elf nodded in acknowledgement. "Well met, Lillian."

Lillian nodded towards the entrance. "She ain't aware that you know about her hideout?"

"You really need an answer to that?"

"No."

"What brings you to the Adajas, Lillian?"

"I want to learn about my heritage. My origins. My people."

The elf didn't flinch a bit or show any sign of emotion. After some minutes of silence, in which Lillian felt as if she was scrutinized down to her bones, he said: "You shall not find it here, Lillian. This is the wrong place to come looking for your heritage."

Lillian felt a pang of disappointment. "So that means you won't help me find out who I really am?"

The elf shook his head ever so slightly. "No. That is not what I said. We shall help you... to some degree. But we cannot unveal your heritage for you. That is something you shall have to do on your own."

"Oh."

"When we became aware of your presence, I was sent to assist you if that question was the reason for your coming. I am the Briase Ignaelle, the Warden of Remembrance of the Shimmering Grove. As that it is my duty to preserve the Lore. I know a lot. But I do not know everything. Among those things, that I do not know, is the scope of Isdiana's designs for every crystal soul."

"Crystal soul?" Lillian asked more than mildly confused.

"I see. You have heard about Isdiana though?"

Lillian nodded. "The elven goddess."

The elf blinked. "Ah, that is a very sketchy - and totally misleading - term used by human folk. Isdiana means Shaperess. Her full name would be Jel'ore Isdiaennen. She Who Shaped Us. When the Lords designed the World, Isdiana would miss real beauty and went to work. The result of her labour were the First Ones, eternal beings of perfect beauty. We are but spawns of the First Ones - beautiful in our way, but tainted in many others. Anyhow, when Isdiana was done shaping, she realized her creations of beauty lacked in stamina and resistibility. Not wanting to reshape what she deemed perfect, she ensured that the fragile consciousness of the First Ones would not suffer from whatever happened to the body. Hence she implanted a tiny fragment of a wandering star into the minds of her creations. Now the hull could be destroyed but the essence would survive to be reshaped in a new design. The fragment of the star she used came as a crystal purer than any quartz, stronger than any diamond. Their creations now had a crystal soul, a sub-consciousness fit to survive even the wear of time and ages. From the First Ones we trace our existence. We are crystal souls to some degree, reflected by the longevity of our blood."

"Oh, then I could have such a crystal fragment somewhere in my mind too?" The concept made Lillian shiver.

Caerlon laughed lightly. "That is a question generations of elven scholars and scientists have been discussing without reaching a satisfying conclusion."

"Oh."

"Maybe now you understand why you have to find out about your heritage by yourself. How can we, who understand so little, presume to judge about somebody's descent? Might be you are a crystal soul too. Might be you are not. We would never be able to tell for sure."

Lillian nodded, unable to hide her disappointment. But Caerlon's explanations sounded true. The half-elf tilted her head and formed her lips to an unhappy pout. "So, what can I do to learn who I am?"

"If any answer to this could be found, it would be at the Tower of Tears."

"Tower of Tears? Never heard of this one."

"That makes sense, as the Tower of Tears is known only to few people outside elven society."

"I see." Lillian smiled. Now she had at least a name ot start with. But she wanted more. "And where will I find this tower?"

"I do not know. I have never been to it. But there is one person who could lead you on. His name is Briga'annin, the Ancient Guardian. I have never met him either, but it is said, he can be found beyond the Frost Grave Mountains."

"The Frosties?" Lillian gasped. "Heavens, that's far, far away."

"I never said your search would be easy."

"Oh, my." Lillian snorted. "Maybe this is not that good an idea."

Caerleon shrugged. "That you must know." He lifted his head and frowned. "She is coming back. I shall leave now."

"Oh." Lillian was disappointed. She would have loved to learn more about her race.

"Yaennes dhis, Lillian," the elf whispered. "Good luck." Then he was gone.

Lillian feebly lifted a hand for farewell. A few moments later she head the rustle of wood from the entrance to the grove. Lillian turned around and wrapped her arms around herself.
Kathryn stepped through the gorge. Her face was flush from exertion.

"We must leave. The hounds are on the way."

Lillian nodded. Somehow she hadn't expected anything else.