FicWad

Rhyann ran desperately through the darkened woods, hoping beyond hope that he could find some sort of shelter before the Desians caught up with him. Spying a small hut in a clearing up ahead, he thanked whatever higher power was on his side today, and dashed toward it. He reached it quickly, and began pounding on the door. "Let me in!" he cried, "Please, you've got to help me!"

The door opened a crack, and a sleepy face looked out at him. "What do you want?" the man asked blearily. He had strong features, amber eyes that were currently half-open, and dark hair that stood up from his head.

"Please, they'll tear me apart!" Rhyann pleaded frantically.

The eyes blinked at him once, and then the door opened the rest of the way. "You'd better come in, then," the woodsman replied with a yawn, ushering Rhyann into the dark hut, "What sort of creatures did you manage to annoy that much?"

"It's not animals I'm running from," Rhyann admitted, "It's Desians. Although I suppose there's not really that much difference sometimes."

In the hut's darkness, it was hard to see the woodsman's expression as he stared at Rhyann for a long moment. Then he spoke, saying in a commanding tone, "Out!"

"What?" Rhyann asked, a bit confused by this reaction.

"I said, out!" the woodsman insisted, "Do you know what they'd do to me if they found you here? I don't have anywhere to hide you if they come in here, you'd be better off if you kept running. And if you think they treat humans badly at those ranches, you should hear what they do to those they consider blood-traitors!"

Rhyann blinked. "You're a half-elf?" he asked.

The woodsman stared at him again. "You didn't notice?" Then he smacked his forehead, "Of course. It's too dark to see my ears, and humans can't sense mana. Which means I've just gone and screwed things up for myself. That'll teach me to talk to humans when I'm half-asleep, I suppose."

Just then, the sound of shouting came from the edge of the clearing. "They're here!" Rhyann whispered frantically, "Please, don't turn me in..."

"Do you realize what it will mean, if I do this?" the woodcutter whispered furiously, "I'll have to leave this place before they come back to take me away!"

Rhyann looked around at what he could see of the tiny hut. "How attached to this place are you, anyway?"

"Not to the house," the woodsman admitted, "but the people of the town more or less trust me. That took years of working hard and enduring their abuse, and I don't want to throw it away and have to go through the process again."

Rhyann nodded thoughtfully, as a pounding came on the door. "It's your choice to make," he whispered, "I'll go quietly, you can pretend you captured me to turn me in to them."

The man looked at him for a moment longer, then went to the door. Opening it just enough to poke his head out, he asked sleepily, "What is it?"

"A prisoner escaped from the ranch earlier tonight," an officious voice said, "and we tracked him in this direction. Have you seen anyone?"

"I've been asleep since sunset, until your ruckus woke me up," the woodsman replied grouchily, "I haven't seen anyone."

"If you're sure," the voice said skeptically, "We'll be back this way in the morning, in case you happen to see or remember anything else...unusual." The underlying threat in his voice was clear.

"Of course," the woodsman replied with slightly strained politeness, "Goodnight." He closed the door firmly and turned toward the stunned Rhyann as the sounds of clinking armor faded away. "I hate those bastards," he explained quietly, "They give half-elves a bad name, and anyone who doesn't join is forced to be solicitous toward them or else be declared a traitor."

"Then...you don't live out here because you hate humans?" Rhyann asked.

The woodsman snorted a bit derisively, "I don't have a problem with humans, they have a problem with me. It's really just sad; they believe so many lies about half-elves, it's almost not even their fault. I wish someone could show them differently, but with the Desians around, that doesn't seem likely."

Rhyann regarded him thoughtfully. "I imagine you don't see many other half-elves who share your viewpoint," he mused.

The other man shook his head, "I don't think there are any."

"If there were, would you want to join them?" Rhyann asked.

"Of course," the woodsman replied without hesitation, "not that it matters."

"I wasn't just a prisoner at that ranch, you know," Rhyann told him suddenly, "I was spying for a group of rebels who are fighting against the Desians. I had to run because they caught me."

"There are humans fighting against the Desians?" the woodcutter asked, surprised.

"Well, some of us," Rhyann nodded, "but most are actually half-elves."

The other man's expression grew astonished, then thoughtful. "I take it that you're offering to let me join, then," he murmured, "Well, there's certainly nothing left for me here now. The Desians will be back to 'test my loyalty' tomorrow, and I'd prefer not to be here for that, so..." he nodded once, firmly, "I accept."

Rhyann grinned, "Great! The Renegades will be glad to have you. Er, I'm Rhyann, by the way. Rhyann Townsend. What's your name?"

The woodsman smiled at him, "Pleased to meet you. I'm Botta."