[Amanaduial the archer]

North slowed to a walk, his head dropping wearily, but Faerim kept hold of his reins, staying alert as he turned the horse around to where a group had gathered some way inside the Sanctum, on a flight of white steps, one of the only areas that was not crowded with the survivors from the battle. The youth looked carefully at the group with sharp blue eyes, trying to figure out what was different about them - then one turned, and he saw the sharp, bright profile of it's face. An elf. His eyes widened in awe. The youth only remembered seeing the elves once before, and that had been when he was very young. Still, if all that Faerim had heard about elves was true, the seventeen years was still nothing more than a child to elves...

Giving the elves a strange look, Faerim clicked his tongue quietly and rode around past the stairway, shamelessly eavesdropping. He was rewarded with a snippet of conversation. "...will evacuate with the second wave of citizens to issue from Fornost; soon, I suspect. The populace of Fornost will remove to the North Downs, where a stronghold of the Norbury..."

Faerim's mind was whirling. Evacuate the citizens? The whole of Fornost?! No matter how practical, the thought had never occured to Faerim. The idea of moving away from everything and everyone he knew...

Everything you know is destroyed. And everyone you know...

Faerim clenched his jaw, his fiery anger returning against the beasts who had destroyed his home, and a wave of pure hatred washed over him. But it was quickly followed by tiredness; the youth tried to stay upright in his saddle, but as he dismounted, he landed heavily, his knees jarring. He winced, putting a hand to his leg where he could feel a dull ache forming: the statue that had fallen near him when he had made for the house had apparently not entirely missed him. Straightening up, he scanned the crowded Inner Sanctum, trying to catch sight of the woman he had escorted from the rubble along with her child, trying to pick her out amid the dark haired, shocked masses. After a second, he spied her, cradling her child, Carthor's horse nearby; taking North by the reins, he stroked the stallion's muzzle gratefully as he led him towards the woman.

"My lady," he said softly, approaching her from behind. The woman spun around, her dark hair a velvet curtain whipping out behind her, then, recognising him, she smiled. Faerim grinned back, but felt oddly tongue-tied - he was so tired that his usually quite natural charm had abandoned him completely. Grasping for it, he nodded politely to her and tried to speak without stammering. "I...I hope you are alright?"

The woman nodded, and seemed about to speak when her child gave a grizzling whine and she turned her attention away from the young man in front of her. Faerim hesitated for a second, then held out one hand to the woman, still wearing his riding gloves. "My name is Faerim, ma'am. May I ask yours?"

The woman smiled back, and took his hand gracefully. "Renedwen. Thank-"

"Faerim!" A shout interrupted the woman and both he and Renedwen looked around. Faerim's face lit up when he saw it was his mother charging towards them, her skirts held up as she made for them, her expression painfully relieved. Faerim seized his mother in an embrace, holding her tight for a second, her hair tickling his nose, but he didn't care: she still had hair, she still had her smell, she was still able to run, she was still...alive. So fast had the whole chain of events since he had left his post as an archer that he hadn't even been able to consider what might have happened, but now that it hadn't, Faerim felt relief wash over him like an icy shower, a cold torrent of 'what if's... He suddenly felt guilty: the pull of duty he had felt to save this woman could have meant his mother and Brander could have been killed without him there...

Brander! Faerim stepped back from his mother, his hands on her shoulders as he looked into her eyes, concerned. "Mother - Brander - where is he? Are you both safe? They are going to evacuate us from the city, to the Northern Downs. The elves are here, they - is Brander alright?" Faerim's words rushed out in a half-excited, half-anxious torrent.