When Elves Die : Episode One (6 page)

Movement could be heard from their left hand side.
All three reacted to the sound at the same time.

“Stay back,” Kelroar said, walking toward the
noise.

Neither Zinna or Xavian obeyed his command as they
followed behind him.

A Killtooth crawled through the burned dead like a
black worm writhing in hot dirt. He had gaping wounds on both of
his legs and a severed foot.

Kelroar used his boot to roll him over on his
back.

"Who sent you here?" Kelroar said.
"I'm not an assassin for hire like you," the demon said. "I kill
for fun.”

Zinna stepped in front of Kelroar and shoved her
dagger into the arm of the Killtooth. The vampire squealed in pain
then laughed.

Zinna's sudden attack surprised the barbarian. He
glared at her, wanting an explanation.

"These creatures," she said. "They killed my
Dad."

Zinna looked down at the demon. The Killtooth spat
up at the girl.

"I've been cut three times already," the demon said
pointing at his legs. "You are too stupid to know that you have to
go for the head."

“Okay, fine.” Zinna began stabbing
him in the throat repeatedly. The sick chucking sound
of her dagger going into the demon's neck made
Xavian wince. Zinna screamed with each strike, her emotions
becoming more unhinged with each blow.

Seeing enough, Xavian pushed Zinna off the
Killtooth. Her dagger remained in his throat.

"He's dead," he said. "And so is your father. That
pain is eating you up inside, Zinna! You want to carry that hate
with you the rest of your life? You have to get over it!"

"Get over it?" Zinna said, her voice oddly distant.
"Are you kidding? I can't get over it anymore than a cripple can
get over losing a limb. Once something leaves, it is gone. And what
do you know about pain?"

Zinna pushed Xavian so hard that he fell backward
into the dirt. He looked up at her, his face a picture of shock and
hurt.

"What do you know about anything?” she continued.
“Whenever there is danger you run away so fast it makes my head
spin.”

"Stop," Kelroar said.

Zinna grabbed her dagger and stormed back to the
field of dead elves. She knelt down in front of the body of Trarry
and began to weep. Jamben followed and rubbed his mane against her
for comfort.

Kelroar dug the mass grave by himself. Xavian and
Zinna gathered the bodies, dragging them by their feet to the edge
of the grave.

Zinna carried some of the bodies into the mammoth
hole.

"No use being gentle," Kelroar said.

"It seems disrespectful to just toss them in," she
said.

Kelroar took a deep breath and followed suit, gently
laying the bodies into their final resting place.

The more bodies they carried in, the more Zinna
wept. She carried some children into the grave and couldn't bear to
look at their faces, turning her head as she placed them in.

"Maybe you shouldn't do this," Xavian said.

"Help me with this one.” She took another child and
lowered him in.

Xavian took another run around the camp to make sure
that there weren't any deceased elves remaining. Then he kicked the
Killtooth's dead body just to know what it felt like.

“We'll leave the orcs and the Killtooth for whatever
scavengers come along,” he said.

“I don't mind coming back and burning them,” Zinna
said.

Kelroar shoveled dirt over the dead elves. Zinna and
Xavian watched in silence as the sound of the sand hitting the
bodies etched into their minds forever.

Sweat drenched Kelroar's tunic as he patted
down the fresh grave with the back end of the shovel. He looked out
into the horizon and stretched his back.

"Anyone want to say anything?" the barbarian
asked.

"I'm not religious," Zinna said, turning her head
away. "I don't believe in that Pegasin stuff about life after
death."

Jamben looked up at her and whimpered.

Xavian pursed his lips for a moment. He tilted his
head as if deep in thought and then stood up on his feet.

"We mark this grave," he said. "To show that the
great elves who perished here lived lives that mattered. They were
all important to someone, somewhere and will forever be in our
hearts. I knew only one of them. Yenward. I was a year older than
him. He was always happy to see me. I was lonely before he came to
the orphanage. We used to run and race through the fields. Swim in
the ponds of Graceonna on summer days. And we would fish and camp
out.”

Xavian fought back a tear forming in his eye,
remembering his dreams of youth.

"He was my friend" he said. “And we had fun.”

Looking at Zinna, he could read the apology in her
face.

CHAPTER 10

The castle of Wandacove anchored the horizon as the
elves of Graceonna welcomed visitors from other tribes. During
festival week, they held various events like jousting and horse
racing. Elves filed in from several different tribes as the
festivities began.

The Dark Queen arrived with Tholan at the edge of
town. She could smell the herbs, spices and meats being cooked. The
sounds of celebratory horns and laughter from the village set
Ravalynn on edge. She couldn't wait to bring misery into the lives
of the elves.

Ravalynn dismounted from her horse and tethered it
to a tree just outside the village.

“Do you see that window?” A ferocious grin split the
Dark Queen's face. “The one at the very top? I am going to hang
Carella by her own silk sheets and dangle her dead body for all to
see.”

Ravalynn checked to make sure she had a dagger
hidden in her boots. Pulling out a vial from the pouch on her
horse's saddle, she held the potion to the sunlight.

Mouthing soundless words over the vial, she kissed
it and placed the potion in her pocket.

Dead leaves followed her feet as she made her way to
the village of elves.

The two elves guarding the gate greeted everyone
with an airy cheerfulness. Dressed in a halter top which showed off
her cleavage and flat belly, Ravalynn caught the attention of the
young guards as soon as she stepped in line.

“Hi,” the guard said, handing Ravalynn a parchment
paper.

“Hi yourself,” she said. “This is my first visit to
your fine village. I was wondering if either of you can show me
around?”

Both elves looked in awe at Ravalynn, taken by her
beauty.

“Well,” the taller one stammered. “We really cannot
leave our posts. And the map is on the parchment I gave you.”

“But maybe we can make an exception,” the shorter
one said.

“That won't be necessary,” Ricmorn called out.

The cleric leered at Ravalynn's cleavage as he
interjected himself between the two young elves. “Welcome to
Graceonna! I will gladly show you around town.”

“Well, that would be just grand,” Ravalynn said,
winking at the cleric.

Thinking opportunity lost, the shorter elf kicked
the dirt in frustration as he watched the raven haired beauty walk
away, arm in arm, with the cleric.

“Some of the elves bring their own dishes. Some are
prepared in the castle.” Ricmorn shot glances at Ravalynn's breasts
whenever he could. “The festival doesn't really start in full bloom
until mid-week. It ends on Sunday, with a jousting tournament.
There will be hundreds of elves here.”

“I was wondering if you could show me around the
castle?”

“I don't know,” he said. “Only a few are really
allowed in. With the way things have been with the attacks, you
know. We have had to make certain restrictions.”

“I understand.” Ravalynn rubbed his arm. “I just
thought that we could be alone together and you can tell me more
about the town. And yourself.”

Ricmorn blushed. “I suppose we can look around the
castle a little bit.”

Two robust looking elves paced in front of the
castle entrance.

“This is Gratil and Orogeon, two of our finest
guards,” said Ricmorn.

They stood silent as the cleric led Ravalynn through
the door.

The Dark Queen studied every detail of the castle's
architecture. Multi-colored shafts of light shined through
stained-glass windows. Ornate wooden chairs sat in the corners of
the foyer.

Her eyes squinted as she gazed upon the rainbow of
colors that adorned the castle walls into an artist's palette of
hues.

Ravalynn needed darkness.

The paintings on the wall featured elves in various
battle scenes. A portrait of Carella stood as the center piece. She
fought back an urge to spit on the painting.

“As you may know there are a great many artists in
the Kevfire tribe. I myself have painted a little,” he said, ogling
Ravalynn's derriere as she turned her back on him. “I like to
combine art with spirituality.”

The cleric swallowed hard as he caught a glimpse of
the raven tattoo on the Dark Queen's lower back.

“Very nice,” she said as she took in a painting of a
dragon attacking some elves.

“Indeed.” Sweat beaded on Ricmorn's forehead. “Like
I said, I have dabbled in painting myself. I would love to have you
as a subject.”

“I would be honored.”

They entered the kitchen pantry area. A pair of
elves kneading dough nodded their heads in greeting.

“Our two finest chefs,” Ricmorn said. “Pandak and
Arathon. They will prepare rare beef, vegetables and fruits. And we
have some eel as well. Our fishermen got lucky this past
weekend.”

“And upstairs?”

“Upstairs is forbidden, I'm afraid,” he said.

“The princess' quarters?”

Ricmorn nodded.

“Do you have a bathroom?” she asked.

“There is an antechamber down the hall and to the
right,” he said. “But I'm afraid the moat has not been cleaned out
in some time. I have to give you fair warning. It may be wise to
hold your breath when you enter.”

Ravalynn made the right turn down the hall but
opened a door that led to the side stairs.

She ascended the steps with excitement, reaching the
top level. She opened another door which revealed a long, dusty
corridor. Lined with statues, the Dark Queen knew that the
figurines represented the warrior elves of Graceonna's past. Their
eyes seemed to follow her as she walked down the hall.

Withdrawing her dagger, she reached a large door in
front of the main stairwell.

Carella's bedroom.

Inside, she found a bed and little else. A painting
of a cat framed the center wall. She rummaged through a drawer,
hoping to find the book of Arcanscape.

Ricmorn waited in the castle foyer, pacing back and
forth. He plotted what his next move would be with the raven haired
beauty. There would be a feast later that day and he would invite
her to dine with him. If he kept her wine glass full throughout the
evening, then maybe...

A commotion coming from the castle entrance
interrupted his lustful pattern of thought. Gratil and Orogeon
stepped into the foyer, carrying a bloodied elf.

“What happened?”

“This man has escaped from the prison near Shaian,”
Gratil said.

“So what are you bringing him in here for?” Ricmorn
said. “Send him back to jail.”

“Everyone in the jail is dead,” the prisoner
said.

“What?”

“The Killtooths. They massacred everyone. Every
guard. Every prisoner. Their throats ripped open. I was in the
pantry at the time of the attacks. There was this old elf in there
who told me about a loose floorboard. I hid underneath until it was
over.”

“If we find out you're lying,” Orogeon said.

“Visit the prison yourself. You will find a chamber
of horrors that you will never forget. They showed no mercy. The
Dark Queen came with them.”

“The Dark Queen?” Ricmorn asked.

“I saw only a glimpse of her. She came in after the
Killtooths. Her hair was a dark purple and she had the blackest
eyes. There was a tattoo on her back. A Raven. She was... The
devil.”

Ricmorn led the guards through the castle. They
entered the pantry first. The chefs reported seeing the black
haired woman walk through the kitchen, muttering something under
her breath.

They separated as they searched upstairs. Ricmorn
timidly poked his head into each room. He feared what the Dark
Queen could be capable of.

“Ricmorn!” Orogeon called out.

The cleric rushed toward the voice. He found the
guard standing outside Carella's bedroom with his ear on the door.
Gratil joined them.

“The door is locked,” Orogeon said. “From the
inside. I heard someone moving around in there.”

Ricmorn backed away from the door and stood behind
Gratil.

Both guards drew their daggers.

“We know you're in there,” Orogeon said. “There is
no escape. Open this door and surrender yourself.”

Orogeon had his left hand on the doorknob and a
dagger held high with his right.

They heard a rattling noise in the room.

“On the count of three,” Orogeon said to Gratil. The
soldiers white-knuckled their daggers as Ricmorn took a couple of
steps further back.

“One...two...three...”

Orogeon slammed his shoulder into the door. The
sound of wood splintering could be heard but the entry remained
shut. He tried again and the door blew off its hinges, propelling
him to the floor.

Gratil leapt over his comrade with his dagger in
hand.

A raven hopped on Carella's bed and crowed angrily
at the elves.

The bird flew directly at Ricmorn. He held up his
hands as the talons scraped his flesh.

Watching as the raven flew out the window, all three
elves gagged at the smell of a large green dropping on the silk
sheets.

Ricmorn ordered his men to have every home in the
village searched. He then changed his mind as soon as he gave the
command. The last thing Ricmorn wanted was for the elven folks to
go into panic mode. Instead, he ordered the guards to patrol the
immediate area outside the village for any sign of the Dark
Queen.