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There was a rustle in the trees to his left, and Tarin's sword was in his hand in an instant. The group of Fae behind him froze, and if he had even an ounce of humor left inside of him, he would have smiled. He had created a small, elite force of men and women to go on this hunt with him, hand-picking five warriors – himself evening the group off at six – that had impressed him on more than one occasion in training, and that each had at least one specialty that would serve him well on a mission of this importance. Warriors he could trust.

His weapon was sheathed as quickly as it had been pulled when Alcern appeared.

"Report?" Tarin demanded, in the no-nonsense voice that had become his closest companion since his failure two days ago. He could not allow himself to be anything but monotone and severe lest his emotions creep up and get the best of him. He had trained for years upon years, decades upon decades. He would not break.

"They went this way, Sir," Alcern stated, pointing through the trees. Without any hesitation, Tarin made for the path, and Alcern, his master tracker, took the lead, the rest of the Fae falling in line behind them. Alcern knew better than to give Tarin information that might be wrong. If the tracker sent them on a path, the path was correct. The path would bring him that much closer to the people who had taken his princess.

They moved through the forest at an inhuman pace, and while Tarin was glad for the speed, he could not help but think about the day of Serena's abduction. The fields surrounding Azure's secure walls were wide, and they had certainly wandered farther than they should have, having reached the edge of Lymeryth. Tarin could not help but think that he should have just grabbed the princess and ran for it, but he had been too cocky. He had wanted to see what the threat to his kingdom was, had wanted to end it himself. More than anything, he had wanted to put a defensive wall up between the men and the princess until she could make it to the gates. He was the most elite of warriors, with the best training in the Realm, but she was just a little girl. Her legs were so small, her magic so new and undisciplined. He had tried to give her her best chance to make the run, and he had failed.

Alcern took a sharp right, and Tarin mimicked his motion without any trouble. Despite their pace, the Fae made nearly no sound as they ducked under branches, leaped over logs and roots, skirted around bushes and occasionally even launched themselves over streams. Their steps were as light as they wanted them to be – a predatory advantage that they were not unaware of. The magic in their limbs defied natural laws and kept their feet from sinking into the ground so that they did not leave prints that anybody could follow.

Their enemies did not have such a luxury.

So suddenly that anybody but a fellow Fae would have rammed right into him, Alcern stopped. Tarin did the same and held up a hand, and that was all it took for the rest of his elite group to fall completely, eerily silent, awaiting his next order. He ruled partially through fear, as he could not stop his fellow Fae from fearing his name, but it was not as though such fear and awe was unearned. He was capable, he was deserving. He had proven time and time again that he could lead, that he could strategize, that he could fight. Oh, yes – he could fight, and he was looking forward to the battle he hoped would come very soon.

"This was where they tried to cover their tracks," Alcern explained, turning to face Tarin. There was a wild gleam in his eyes. Pride, Tarin thought. "Brushed away a few footprints and tried to leave the trail completely."

"Leave the trail?" Tarin questioned.

Alcern chuckled. "They seem to have lifted each other into the trees," he replied, pointing upwards. Tarin glanced into the canopies and saw that, indeed, there were large enough branches for many men to stand on at once, and that the similar branches of neighboring trees were close enough for the men to jump from one to another for a long way through the forest.

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