The three remaining members of the Wandering Adventurers (as they were so aptly named due to lack of creativity) sat in the center of the small temple building in the island town of Limerick. It had been a long day- the fight against the ghost had been particularly difficult and trying for the non-human members of the band. Half the night had passed, and things were going nowhere. Bramble, the diminuitive halfling pseudo-druid, and Gorak, the dwarven war priest, sat in the temple, discussing their plans and how to reverse the magical aging that had stolen their precious youth. The human of the party, a strong, enigmatic ranger named Byron Silverspear, sat alone, contemplating his next move.

Midnight came and went; nobody slept, and still the discussion went nowhere. "That's it!" Byron finally said disgustedly. "I'm going back to the house. If anyone wishes to come with me, come, but otherwise wait here." He stalked off into the night, sword at the ready.

Halfway to the tiny hut, Bramble came puffing up behind him. "Byron! Don't go! You'll die!"

"Short Stuff, I've already been dead," Byron answered, stopping.

"So have I, y'know, and it wasn't all that pleasant," Bramble answered, tugging at the bottom of the ranger's vest. "Now c'mon back, Byron- I don't want you to die!"

"You haven't ever been as dead as I have, Short Stuff." Byron tugged at the gold earring in his left ear.

"What do you mean?"

Byron pulled out the earring. He shimmered for a moment, then grew blurry as the magic of the earring faded away. Moments later, after rubbing her eyes, Bramble looked up into the familiar eyes and face of Ailen Arrowshaft, the missing Avariel ranger! "As I said, Bramble, I've been dead- spiritually- moreso than anyone ever has physically."

"Ailen! You're alive!" Bramble hugged her returned best friend.

'Ailen' stood uncomfortably as she was assaulted by the happy halfling. "Ailen? Ah, so you knew who I was, then."

Bramble let go of 'Ailen' and looked into her eyes. "Wh...what do you mean, 'who you were'?"

'Ailen' put the earring back in her ear and became Byron once again. "I think what best describes the situation is partial amnesia- or at least some sort of mental blockage due to some trauma I faced four decades ago. When whatever it was happened, I completely immersed myself in who I am today. In other words, Bramble, for all practical purposes, your friend 'Ailen' is dead." Byron looked at the teary-eyed halfling. "I'm sorry."

Bramble stood still as Byron stalked off. Tears rolled down the halfling's face, indecisive tears- whether they were tears of joy at the return of her best friend or tears mourning her friend's death, she did not know. "B-byron?"

Byron sighed. "What is it now?"

"Well, um, I mean, yeah, so Ailen is dead. But does that mean we can't at least still be friends?" The halfling stammered. "I mean, it's just that I need some sort fo friend, some sort of confidant because it seems that nobody else in my, er, our group really cares about me. I mean, I can still be helpful in my happy little noncombative way."

Byron turned around and walked back up to Bramble. "Bramble... right now, friend are a luxury that I can't afford. I'm sorry. But that doesn't mean I won't help you. You're right- from what I have seen of you and what little remains in my memories, you are quite a helpful little woman in your own quiet way. But keep in mind that the line has been drawn right there- allies, yes, friends, perhaps someday.

"Now, Bramble," Byron said, finally meandering back toward town and safety. "Tell me what you know of this 'Ailen' person- besides the obvious, I mean."

"What's so obvious to you?"

"That I'm an elf, for one thing," Byron said. He lowered his voice. "And I'm a girl!"

"Is there something wrong with being a girl?" Bramble asked. She cocked her head to the right and narrowed her right eye.

"No! I mean, I like women a lot- if you know what I mean."

"Aren't they just-" Realization suddenly dawned on Bramble. "Oh... I get it now." She couldn't help but feel slightly repulsed by this revelation.

Byron nodded. "Anyway, there's nothing wrong with being one. I'm just... sort of confused about the whole thing, really."

"How so?"

"Well, what do you last rememebr of me?"

"I remember that Lars- you know, Dr. Wolfrock, the witch- I remember that he summoned some spectacular fire spell, which you really hated at the time because of your wings, and-"

"Wait a moment," Byron interrupted. "I had wings?"

"You don't even remember those? Oh, yes, you had a pair of really big wings- bright white, that I had to cover with a really big cloak. And you had a special frontpack- the opposite of a backpack, you know- that I still have with me right now!" Bramble rambled.

"Yes, yes, fine," Byron said, interrupting the halfling. "What else do you remember?"

"Well, anyway, when Lars used his fire spell, you flew off, and we didn't see you again. Poof!- no more Ailen. But then we met another winged elf, Darcilyn, and she was looking for her mother, and we found out that you are, er, will be, um, were, um, that is- well, she's your daughter."

Byron fainted dead away on the path back to the Fitzpatrick house.

A few minutes later, after Bramble had doused Byron with some water from a tiny metal flask, Byron finally sat up. "Wh... what happened?"

"You fainted when I told you that you had- or will have, I'm not quite sure anymore- a daughter by the name of Darcilyn."

Byron shook his head. "Oh, is that all?"

"Yep."

"Great." Byron had more of a headache now that he did when he finally set foot upon dry land. "Are there any other revalations I should be prepared for?"

"Um, not right now, really," Bramble said, searching her memory. "Do you have any questions about you?"

"Not really, no," Byron said. "Though I'm sure I will in the near future." Byron opened the front door to the Fitzpatrick house and walked up to his room. "Thank you, Bramble."

"Sure, Byron," Bramble said, throwing him a half smirk. She went into her room and prepared for a long night's sleep.

Before long there was a small knock on the door. "Come in," she said sleepily.

Byron opened the door and propped himself in the doorway. "I forgot one thing, Bramble. I think maybe right now I can afford one friend. Oh- and good night." He smiled, closed the door, and went back to his room.

Bramble crawled under her natural fiber covers and blew out the last candle. She smiled as she whispered, "Good night, Ailen."