In their naked arrogance, while the clothing was what should be sexy, the cruelty and hatred ingrained into the very being of these blue elves ruined the effect. I’d never seen the phrase, “Beautiful body, but an ugly soul” more completely personified than these twisted elves. A few of the younger ones weren’t completely lost, but all of the older ones were completely twisted and repulsive.
The half dozen male elves I saw all wore robes, covering themselves from collar to wrist and ankle. They tried to stay right with whichever she-elf they were associated with, two steps behind. Some flinched or cowarded when their she-elf so much as glanced at them. However, the same scorn and disgust filled their faces the instant they looked at the wood elven delegation.
There were at least 30 she-elf nobles among them, though almost a dozen looked to be younger elves, with the normal smaller breasts instead of those of a mother, in the footsteps of their mothers, as they followed the elaborate litter to the stone platform on which we stood.
Behind the nobles appeared to be more common folk of the shadow elves, I was guessing retainers and servants. The commoners’ garb was not nearly so revealing and tasteless. All of the commoners wore thick leather if not armor. The backs were even more heavily armored, especially around the lower back, where you’d stab going for the kidneys and other vital organs. Everything for the commoners was utilitarian, but all of them seemed at least partially militarized.
The same hatred that corrupted and twisted the nobles was present, if not worse, among the common folk. It was heartbreaking and painful seeing how what could be such a wonderful people was so twisted and spiteful.
When the litter got close enough for me to realize who the poor souls forced to carry the elaborate litter were, my blood boiled.
They were elves, but not shadow elves or even wood elves. They belonged to the other elven races. Half were brown-skinned she-elves, with black or gray hair, and the slave sigil around their necks was easy to see as they approached. The other half were gray and tan skinned, in stripes and splotches, their hair matched their skin, having brown and gray intermixed in patches, not streaks. Both types of elves were taller than either the wood elves or shadow elves, and while still lithe and wiry, they had significantly more muscle and bulk than the twigs that were the other elves.
You could tell that these slaves were not well maintained. The slaves were barefoot on the rocky broken earth and were only clad in a simple loincloth. I knew breasts weren’t considered sexual among the elves, but the scars showed that the elves knew they were sensitive and it looked like they were highly abused as punishment. There wasn’t a slave among them whose body wasn’t covered in scars or scabs of more recent abuse.
“The gray skinned ones are mountain elves.” Tavorwen explained, her voice tight with pain for her enslaved sisters. “The brown skinned ones are wild elves.”
I would have to ask more about those elves later, right now, it would just make me angrier.
The litter was carried right up to the stone platform, and the enslaved elves set it down. One of the robed male elves walked up on the platform of the litter, and he opened the door.
From the darkness inside the litter emerged the most evil being I had ever laid eyes on. I’d seen slavers, tribal tyrants, drug lords, terrorists and the lowest scum that Earth had to offer. I’d seen men so vile that seeing them made your hair stand on end and chills run down your spine. You may see mug shots on the evening news as their deaths are announced, but even the most vile looking of those fiends was ten times worse in person.
The thing that extended a flawless hand for the male to hold as she rose from the throne in the litter didn’t make my hair rise, as she stepped into the light. She made my blood run cold. Evil radiated from her like light from a bulb or heat from a fire. Every instinct in my body screamed that every second she lived was a blight upon the planet.
Kathra would have been gorgeous if her evil weren’t so revolting. Her skin was flawless, a deep royal blue. Her almost radiantly white hair spilled out between the sixteen black and gold spires of the spiked crown she wore, to cascade down her back in silken waves. Her neck, shoulders and arms were bare, except for a choker of runed tiles of bone, the clasp of her cape and two runed metal bracers. Her breasts, grown to the size to testify she had borne offspring, were held raised by a corset of interlocking metal and black reptilian leather that was her only garment. Like a leotard, it wrapped down between her legs, to where it reached up behind her, laces along her ribs held the two pieces together. The part covering her lower stomach and pelvis swept in until it was less than a hand’s width wide, leaving her hips and the sides of her stomach entirely uncovered and mobile.
Long wiry legs clad in boots that clung to Kathra’s legs until they ended nearly three quarters of the way up her thighs. The boots, like the leather in her corset, were black reptilian leather. The two inch wedges at the heel of her boots seemed large for this world, where high heels seemed to not be a thing.
In her right hand she carried a scepter, made of the same material as my new bullets. The handle was slim enough to fit in the hands of the elf, but it thickened as it extended to the tip where a blood infused head of spikes wrapped around a black diamond the size of my palm. The diamond seemed to draw in light, making it the otherwise cloudless day seem overcast in her vicinity.
The cape on her back too was made of the strange black reptilian leather. It hung down to a tattered hem at her ankles. The cape didn’t hang limply, as normal leather should on the windless day, but it twitched and squirmed like a living thing slung across her back.
Everything from the crown on her head to the boots on her feet were covered in runes. Some pressed into metal or leather, others drawn on in inks and blood.
“So I see you bitches brought your cur.” The shadow elf queen sneered. Her eyes settled on me with a mix of hatred and curiosity.
“Queen Kathra, we have come in response to your invoking of the Rite of Respite. We are prepared to begin the negotiations-” Audruil began, but Kathra cut her off.
“There will be no negotiations.” Queen Kathra snapped. “We know your fool ‘scriptures’. The terms are set for Respite in no uncertain terms. You precious ‘father’ saw to that. I have my tribute and it shall be paid to ‘him’ to whom you owe the fleeting farce of a victory you’ve achieved.”
She held up her left hand, and white light gathered in her palm. I’d never seen light pool like water before, but it sat like a giant white droplet filling Kathra’s outstretched palm and seemed to be held there by her half closed fingers. Initially I was worried it was some sort of attack spell, but instead she just held it out to me with a look of cruel amusement.
“Take that which you’ve won, stupid male, or you’ll breach the terms of Respite and we’ll be free to do as we please, and none of your strange magic will save you this time.” Kathra cackled.
I glanced at Audriul, who was as confused as I was. This was clearly a strange negotiation as far as such went. Audriul motioned for me to accept whatever it was.
I took a few steps forward and instinctively reached my left hand to Kathra’s corresponding proffered hand. As my hand reached hers, the light shot like lighting her hand to mine, crackling for a second, and though not painful, a heat that seemed vaguely familiar filled my hand. Then I realized where I’d felt this before! Just days ago a similar heat had coursed through my veins as I was bound to my matrons!
The heat however only reached as far as my wrist, where it wrapped like a chain inside my skin, then shot to the back of my hand where a white sigil formed.
“It is DONE!” Kathra cried, “Bring out the tribute!”
Three dark elf soldiers moved from the back and threw a naked shadow elf woman at my feet.
“The ‘princess’ of an elven people ‘ransomed’ to buy six months’ Respite!” The crazed queen laughed.
I stared at the naked she-elf at my feet. Tears streamed down her face. I could feel her shame, humiliation and pain, just like she was one of my matrons. But something was wrong, terribly WRONG about the bond.
“No…” I breathed in realization, my mind rapidly churning through what she’d said. “You… you enslaved your own daughter, and you’d throw her away… as a game to buy time!” I raged at the laughing queen, dropping to my knee unsure how to help the poor girl… my… my slave.
“Bark all you want, dog, but I’ve played by your gods’ rules and now you cannot touch me!” She cackled. “And the cunt will be just as worthless to you as she is to me! Maybe you’ll just kill her and be done with it. Or when six months expire and I rip your beating heart from your chest, she will revert to my ownership and I will do the deed myself.”
The shadow elves gathered round roared with laughter at the horror the entire delegation of wood elves, myself included, felt at how this had proceeded.
“Now begone, you whores and bitches. When next I see you, you will be dead or you too shall bear the slaves mark!” Kathra shrieked, a mad and twisted soul spouting hate, the only real emotion she knew.
With that the crazy queen of the shadow elves whirled, her cloak reaching as though to bite me, and she strode with pride to her litter, as though throwing her daughter to the wolves had been a win.