<span style="font-family:Philosopher">it's been 63 days. 63 days since he’d seen that warm smile, heard that innocent laugh, felt that gentle touch. 63 days since his pride and joy was violently ripped away from him in the most arbitrary of punishments to atone for his sins. 63 days he had made her endure. 63 days since he’d last hunted and killed a man for money.<br/>
<br/>
Avi wiped beads of sweat from his brow as he trudged through the forest, pushing away huge, fan-like leaves in his path. The moisture in the air seemed to cling to his face, congealing into a irritating film of sweat and filth that plastered his forehead and cheeks. His scabbard felt like lead on his waist, his sword like solid gold. The pack slung over his back - although small -  felt as if it were filled to the brim with stones. His legs burned from his endless crusade, screaming at him to alleviate their suffering. But he ignored their pleads, continuing to place one foot in front of the other. <i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">Do it for her</span></i>. He repeated the phrase over and over in his mind as he marched.<br/>
<br/>
This was his final destination. His shot in the dark. Everything else had failed. No priest, maester, or physician could help her. No God could save her soul, no alchemy to purify her soul, no incision to cull the disease. In the eyes of society, she was dead - or soon to be. This girl meant the world to him. She was the one that brought him happiness. The one that kept him fighting against the odds. The one that justified the deaths of hundreds of men. She was his sister, his blood. He killed for her, fought for her, and would even die for her if he had to. He resigned himself to be nothing more than a hound for hire. A soldier of fortune. A piece of mercenary scum. He shouldered that burden so that his sister would have a better life than his own.<br/>
<br/>
But now, that was all in jeopardy.<br/>
<br/>
Forest Syndrome, the witch called it. A crippling disease. It disrupted the humors and destroyed the inner balance inside an individual. Left untreated, the victim would suffer a very slow and painful death, their body tearing itself apart as the turmoil and strain worsened. It originated from the Elves, an ancient people with an equally ancient culture. Their past was as mysterious as their people: hidden deep in the Red Groves. “<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b300b3">The antidote</span>” the witch said, “<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b300b3">lies deep in the depths of an Elven ruin</span>, <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b300b3">covered in a forest of green and red</span>.”  <br/>
<br/>
Of course, at the time, Avi didn’t believe her. He always had his doubts about magic, the clergy, or anything of that sort. The mystical had no place in the physical world, a realm where logic overrules lore. It also didn’t help that the Elves were killed of hundreds of years ago, slaughtered in a genocide of racial injustice. Humans were always cruel creatures, violent when it came to dealing with themselves, utterly devastating when it came to dealing with others. So when the suggestion that the cure to his sister’s disease lied somewhere hidden in the depths of the ancient Elven homeland, Avi scoffed and dismissed the old woman as some senile old fart. “<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">The Elves</span>?” He had said. “<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">You must be older than time itself</span>.”<br/>
<br/>
That was before every man that came before his sister failed to diagnose her disease.<br/>
<br/>
And so, here he was, running out of options and time, trudging through the depths of an Elven forest in a desperate search to find needle in a haystack, for a person that would be dead in a couple weeks.<br/>
<br/>
A sound disrupted his train of self-pitying thought. Avi instinctively crouched down, his hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword. It was an exchange of garbled voices too far away to understand, but from the pitches alone, he could tell that there were four individuals. Two male, two female. Before he could get closer, the air was pierced by a pained howl, and then filled with frantic footfalls. By the time Avi realized that the sound was coming closer, a small figure dashed by him. Barely any sunlight penetrated through the dense canopy down, but from what little he saw, the figure was a woman. Avi paused. No way. He thought, his brows knotting together. His mind wracked for a logical explanation as to what he just saw, proceeded a series of realizations that made his skin crawl. Those ears. The sound of hunters. She was an elf. <br/>
<br/>
An elf that could help him find the cure.<br/>
<br/>
Avi immediately sprinted after the woman, throwing his legs in front of one another in a staggering display of desperation and speed. Soon, he saw the girl once more; she wasn’t too far ahead of him. Her pace was frantic and sluggish. The dense foliage of the forest didn’t make his pursuit any easier. He crashed through numerous branches and bound over large shrubs in order to reach the elf. <i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">How long has she been running from these people</span></i>? He wondered, almost tripping over a tree root. He cursed in frustration. What the girl lacked in raw speed she made up for in nimbleness. Whereas the girl bound through the forest with ease, Avi struggled to catch up, his breath beginning to strain. His heart pounded in his ears, threatening to give in to exhaustion. Finally, he reached a straightaway. The sounds of footsteps weren’t far behind when the mercenary put all of his strength into his legs as he planted his foot into the ground and lurched forward, grabbing the elf by her waist and throwing her - along with himself - into the nearest brush. He could feel her bodyweight press into his own as they tumbled through the vegetation, numerous twigs and leaves snaring his clothes and whipping his face. The world spun around him in a series of green and brown before coming to a sudden stop. It wasn’t until Avi saw the tree trunk did he realize that the breath was knocked out of him. His gut hitched as he sucked in a ragged breath, his diaphragm convulsing from the sudden lack of air in his lungs. Not too far away, he heard the sound of the hunters, their angered grumbles and provocations filling his ears as he bit down hard on his tongue to prevent himself from making a sound. He knew that these individuals were dangerous, and that if he were caught with the elf, it wouldn’t be just her life in danger. <i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">Speaking of which</span></i>... Joel looked around frantically for the elf, only to find her underneath him, her chest pinned to the earth. Avi let out a gentle sigh of relief. He took a few steadying breaths before bending down low next to the girl, tucking matted strands of hair behind her ear, careful not to make any sudden movements. He spoke in a low voice. <br/>
<br/>
“<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">Listen closely</span>, ‘<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">cause I</span>’<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">m only gonna say this once</span>.” He spoke in a gentle tone, despite their position. “<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">You have two options</span>. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">Either you help me and live</span>, <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">or you can go back to your friends up there and die</span>.” The frustration in the hunter’s voices grew louder as they neared, one voice stood out louder than the rest, promising cuisine consisting of the elf’s innards. Avi bent lower so that his body was firmly pressed against the elf’s back. <br/>
<br/>
“<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">So</span>, <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">what</span>’<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">ll it be</span>?”</span>