The male who had opened her door had remained by the door, clearly suspecting the negotiations would be short, and closed the door behind her as she sat, blocking her eyes in the darkness of the litter as they seemed to glow, locking onto me with hatred unchecked. The male stepped down and barked an order at the slaves who stood miserably around the handles of the ornate and doubtlessly heavy litter.
The slaves bent and with great effort raised the litter and began the process of turning it and carrying it away.
The giants followed the litter and the wyverns took to the sky.
The shadow elf nobles began to leave, many spitting at us as they did. Then commoners followed suit.
I’d been spat at before by people that didn’t appreciate my aid, so it didn’t bother me, until I realized none of the spittle was reaching me.
No, the spit was aimed at the crying, naked she-elf at my feet.
I almost drew my weapon. These fiends had just invoked a holy rite of the elven people, made a mockery of it, and thrown one who was, by their own admission, their ‘princess’, and now they spit on her who they had made their ‘tribute’.
Tavorwen put a hand on my arm, stopping me.
I ground my teeth in frustration and instead unclasped my cloak and covered the poor she-elf on the ground in front of me.
“Did you know?” I asked Tavorwen. “Did you know what was happening when she offered me that light?”
“No.” Tavorwen assured me, and I could feel the truth of her words through the bond. “Slave marks haven’t been used by any civilized peoples of the surface in hundreds of thousands of years. Most of what we know of them is from ancient writings… and unfortunate modern experiences.”
I tried to make sure the cloak covered the poor she-elf to give her some kind of modesty.
“What’s the point?” The tear stricken shadow elf asked quietly, “As if anything could shame me further.”
“You clearly didn’t ask for this. It clearly wasn’t your choice. I will… I will find a way to make this right.” I declared.
The shadow elf just turned away from me, though she did wrap the cloak around herself.
The last of the shadow elves returned to their home and Audriul placed a hand on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry. None of us knew what Kathra was offering, or we would have accepted on your behalf to spare you having your hands sullied by something so vile as slavery, but what’s done is done. You must bring her. We cannot leave her and we must depart. There… there is much that must be done.” The troubled elder prodded.
“Yeah… yeah.” I acknowledged.
This whole situation sucked.
I glanced at the new white mark on the back of my hand. Inside a border that matched the white sigil on… my slave’s… neck, was a star-like mark. A series of rays, wavering and changing in number within the circle of the border, but one remained steady. The one steady ray reached beyond the borders of the sigil, and reached up to where the white line mixed with the golden lines of my matrons to wrap around my ring finger.
“I’ve read about that. It means… that she is at your disposal… sexually. Even the Great Father cannot deny she has been given to you, and is yours to do with as you please.” Tavorwen admitted with disgust. “According to old records, there are several types of slave marks. Some were once used simply to denote a debt was owed and once the debt was paid the mark would fade. Hers… Hers is a life-mark. Irrevocable, and… without limits.”
“There is no way to free her?” I demanded.
“Free? Free?!” The shadow elf laughed, “You think I can ever be free?…”
She rose to her feet, pulling the cloak tight around herself. “… you are pathetic, MASTER.” She snapped with her lip curled. “Your pity only makes this whole hell’s cursed shit of a situation worse.”
She pulled the cloak about her and trudged with pain and humiliation to the wood elves, trying to salvage some sense of her pride, but the tears streaming down her face said her efforts were failing. She clearly had learned to keep the emotions that would pass through our bond contained, but the pain, humiliation, shame, embarrassment and sorrow could not fully be contained.
My heart ached. I would find a way to fix this. To somehow make this situation less vile, and maybe, just maybe, save this poor girl from the damage her mother and people had done to her all her life. Risavis had said the shadow elves had once been called night elves and had lived in peace with their sister races. Maybe, I could find the night elf deep within this shadow elf and bring her back to the light of day.
I joined my slave, matrons and maidens with the rest of the delegation and Audriul began the incantation that would teleport us home.
At least, I thought, trying to find some good in the situation, I won’t have to fight any more shadow elves for at least six months.
The teleportation began and we returned home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gla’dri shifted uncomfortably on the stone platform, rising floor after floor through the small tubular tunnel in the great tower. The opening for each floor flew past. Kathra, and, as her current consort, he himself lived in the floor sixth from the top of the great tower they had built.
Something was wrong. Gla’dri just couldn’t put his finger on what Kathra had planned. If they had tried, surely they could have negotiated up to a two year Respite with the fool bitches from the forest. Why had she settled for six months? Surely it was a relief for her to be rid of the worthless drain on their food stores that her daughter had been, but the queen always had more effective plans than that.
Just what was Queen Kathra thinking?
“Prepare the Chamber of Incantation.” Kathra commanded. “I must go out.”
Gla’dri glanced at her in concern. Teleportation from the Chamber of Incantation was risky at the best of times, but there were some of the High Matriarchs that may have taken even the invoking of a rite not of Great Ya’av as a sign of weakness.
The look in the queen’s eye gave no room for discussion.
“As you wish, my queen.” He acquiesced.
Kathra smirked, her male was well trained. It would be a shame to have to break in a new one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ak’vix’tur’aveen was chewing on a mouthful of root, one of the few foods he could safely access that he didn’t mind. The tree he had burrowed under for his home had roots with a consistency not unlike the stiff sinews of some of the dire beasts he usually hunted. He could eat anything he wished, his body could convert any sort of matter into the energy he required, but all food had a ranking of preference to him. Living, intelligent beings would be the best, the thrill of the value of that food was so enticing to him. Then simply living animals, then sorts of vegetation, and mineral and nonliving matter. The fact that he’d been reduced to eating vegetation stung his pride.
Then he felt it.
The magic.
Someone was teleporting directly into his lair. The fool. Even if it was that strange mortal with the flashing stick, they would be dead the moment they arrived.
Ak’vix’tur’aveen positioned himself, and the moment the mortal appeared he went to lunge and add her to the list of things he’d eaten that day but her words stopped him cold, his fangs inches from tearing this female elf’s flesh asunder.
“Nsrevers sent me.” Kathra declared unflinching as the hot dragon breath tossed her hair and cloak and dragon saliva hissed on the soil. “Ya’av and Nsrevers have proposed an alliance between our peoples to deal with… a common threat.”
Nsrevers. One of the Dragon Gods, a Goddess. When the great schism between the dragon gods had arisen she had sided with Flaxrixs, the Greatest of Wyrms and First Father Dragon, in his war against his mate, Sresvithra, The Great Mother of Dragonkind. Flaxrixs was the Great Tyrant, the model for all dragons with real pride to follow. He dominated and brought all in his path under his dominion. Nsrevers was the daughter that followed him, becoming the Goddess of Dragonic Destruction.
Ak’vix’tur’aveen had no shrine, nor altar, to honor her, but his patron she was. Dragons worshiped with every act of their lives, not pittance of prayer and offerings on an altar. He wished to be the force of destruction and power that she would lead him to become.
The elven queen stepped around his frozen jaws and her hand touched the flesh left open by the gaping hole in his armor left by his encounter with the wood elves’ summon.
“If you think this is the last you’ll see of wounds like this, you are a fool.” Kathra cackled. “Nsrevers would cut off this threat before it consumes those who spread her destruction before her children cower in fear.”
Ak’vix’tur’aveen growled in frustration. “Speak puny mortal, the Daughter of Destruction may be my patron, but your destruction would scarce earn me her fury.”
Kathra smirked, “Listen well, Dragon…”