{Note from the Author: This work was in collaboration with one of my greatest friends whom I have ever had the honor of knowing. As soon as he gets his own website/blog up, I will link it here to give him credit. The scene is a very old one that I have revamped a little bit, but I think it still captures the essence of the original. If I get any requests for the original I will have to have Sahvn (my friend) dig it up.}
"Syl," the guttural voice behind him now thoroughly agitated.
"In a moment, Demon Hunter," Syl said, and placed the map on a broken tree stump. Folding up the sleeves of his brown cloak, Syl let the wind push down his hood as the breeze coolly flowed through his ever-aging hair. It was now completely silver, and the mystic was certain that Dameon had something to do with it. The two had been traveling through this forest for days now, Dameon able to go with very little sleep as though possessed by something other than his own willpower. Syl, for his part, could have easily been able to keep up with him but had neither mind nor reason to. Their entire friendship was based on Syl's apathy and Dameon's drive; they were a perfect compliment to each other. The constant, unchanging scenery did not do much to keep the motivation high, however. The forest they had entered gave them dying trees and dead grass; even the stones looked as though they had aged past their years.
Reaching for his pack, Syl pulled a small tea kettle from his bag along with a small ceramic cup. Fired from a the small forges near the Library itself, this cup was the last small link to his past. This, and the knowledge of how to call Flame from the Lady herself. With a quick flick of his finger, a small, contained flame sprang up and licked the edges of his robe. Another short chant and he placed the tea kettle on frozen air, keeping it suspended. Syl turned as the blue flames began to warm the water and nearly ran directly into Dameon.
"Where is it?" the dark voice asked. Syl looked hard into Dameon's face and tried to discern some emotion other than smoldering anger, but it was shrouded in the darkness given to him by his father. The mage lifted a hand and placed it in the general area of the forest they stood in.
"The directions weren't exactly as clear as the glass from the South Ocean, friend," Syl said, himself now becoming slightly agitated, "it mentioned only one direction, and we are currently traveling in said direction."
"So what, we keep walking until we blindly run into it?"
"That's the general idea. I think my tea might be done." Syl turned and gave the pot a weak smile. The slight slit at the top of the kettle pushed the steam quickly through, making a shrill scream that belied the size of the little ceramic kettle. Taking the kettle from the air and waving the flame from existence, Dameon's face changed from dark anger to bewilderment as the shrieking continued even after the water had cooled down.
"Harpy," both of them said. In an instant Dameon was off, sword in hand, bounding up and through the trees, deftly clutching and releasing each branch as he repelled. Syl, on the other hand, was busying himself by preparing the tea leaves, delicately placing them in tactical positions around the edge of the small cup. Pouring the water slowly into the small goblet while he scooped up the map in the other hand, Syl began walking underneath the trees, savoring the smells of the tea as it invaded his nostrils.
Dameon, on the other hand, was high in the air now and gaining on his target. The winged she-creature was nearly six feet tall with a wide wing span and horribly dark skin. As the Hunter closed in on the beast he noticed scars and diseased flesh covering most of its torso. The harpy had snake-like eyes and very little hair, it's screech accenting the ugly features. Nearly 12 feet off the ground, Dameon swung his sword up and met the incoming clawed hand directed toward his face. The harpy tried to turn, but Dameon came to fast and ran directly into the creature, pushing it back and knocking both of them off balance. Unfortunately for them, a branch broke both of their falls, and they began their descent toward the ground. The harpy, for it's part, caught another branch and the furious battle resumed.
Syl was still contemplating the map and its contents, now sipping the cooling tea. The battle between the harpy and the Hunter raged on above him, with shouts and shrieks as they each exchanged strikes. The mage looked up only slightly, barely interested in the fight and completely confident in the abilities of his unusual ally.
"I think we are getting close now, Dameon," Syl said casually, finishing his tea and gently swirling the water to catch the last of the leaves, "you had better finish this." Just as Syl completed his thought, the screaching from the harpy reached a loud crescendo as it was violently thrown from the treetops. Syl stopped just short as the vile creature impacted a dead tree in front of him, upside down. He watched with slight interest as Dameon's sword shot from above and implanted itself in the center of the harpy's chest. Branches snapped and dying leaves left the trees as the Hunter himself appeared on the tree branch above the struggling humanoid.
"I saw it from the trees," Dameon said, with something of a content voice, "it's just over that small hill." He motioned with his head over the hill near them as he leapt down. Syl walked past Dameon's struggling prey as the Hunter finished his duty. There, over the hill as his friend had said, was a small clearing. In the middle of the clearing was a tavern, worn and aged from the looks of it, but still standing. Above the door was a large, blood-red dragon's claw.
"The Red Claw," Syl whispered as Dameon joined him.
"It's about time," Dameon said and continued his hurried pace. Syl put the teacup back into his pack and sighed. Always rushing to every fight, never stopping. This was the nature of his friend.
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