Isallia felt the cart hit a bump in the road, disrupting her restless sleep. They were no longer under the canopy of the forest, but now out in the sun, bound for the capital city. Coming back to consciousness, she remembered the chains that bound her wrists. The humans had captured her nearly two days ago. All she knew now was that they were taking her to Bosch Keep, the massive castle that lay at the center of Yndyre.
Her body was stiff and sore after having been jostled around in the cart for that long, and her wrists were starting to chafe. Still, her fear at the fate that awaited her at the castle made her forget about all of her discomfort.
As she awoke, her other senses returned to her. Her tall ears flicked as she heard the sounds of her captors chatting among themselves, though she barely paid attention to what they were saying. She had learned quickly that it was better for her to not appear to be listening or to even be moving. They taunted her less when they thought she was sleeping. How had she gotten into this mess anyway?
* * *
Isallia was stirred awake by the same noise that had woken her for the past two months. "Shh, it's okay. Mama's here," she cooed to her newborn son, who was whimpering.
He was beautiful, she thought, as she gazed down at his big brown eyes: his father's eyes, she reminded herself. She stroked the side of his head, near his little elven ears, which hadn't quite opened up yet. And he had the sweetest smile. How she wished his father could see him.
For just over three months, her mate, Inaril, had been sick with an unknown disease. The healers knew it had come from exposure to humans, but had yet to find a cure. He had gone into a fever-induced coma just before their son, Rhalas, was born. Since then, she had been on her own while he was slowly dying in the healers tents.
As Rhalas finished feeding, she sighed. "Maybe he will at least be awake today," she said to him, trying to convince herself more than anything. Poor Inaril had not even been conscious to know he had a son.
She settled Rhalas onto a sling strung around her back and began her walk to the healers' tents. Several neighbors stopped to ask how she had been since Rhalas' birth or offer condolences about Inaril. She hadn't been out too much in the past few weeks, trying to avoid this exact situation. She hoped she could hold it together today. Between all the changes to her hormones and all the strain she was under, she had been an emotional wreck.
Isallia was halted as she neared the healers. "I'm sorry," Lemill, the healer elder, told her sorrowfully, "he's still not well and likely contagious."
She had been hearing the same thing day in and day out. She was just lucky they were able to still keep him alive at this point, she knew. "And you have found no cures?" she asked in an accusatory tone. She didn't mean to sound like that, but she was getting exhausted by all of this.
He placed a hand on her shoulder. "We are trying everything we can, Isallia. Believe me. But with no one returning alive from the scouting parties, there's very little we can learn about this disease."
Isallia fought back tears and only nodded in agreement. "We will let you as soon as anything changes. You and the little one take care for now, okay?"
She gave him a weak smile and decided to head back. There was always tomorrow, she had to keep telling herself.
She almost bumped into Silra, one of the village elders. Hm, she seemed a little larger since the last time Isallia saw her. Course, she was one to talk. Isallia was still a quite plump after having her child. Plus, they had been at peace with the satyrs now for a couple of years. Seemed natural that people were able to rest and eat more.
"Isallia, I see you're out and about," Silra said, not really seeming all that concerned with her. "Seems that you're doing well then. Listen, our last scouts have gone missing, and your family is next on the rotation. Since Inaril is still sick, and you seem well enough, you'll have to go."
She could feel Rhala's tiny little hands tapping at her back as these horrendous words tumbled out of Silra's mouth. "You can't be serious," Isallia sputtered. "Rhala's still too young for me to-"
Silra only rolled her eyes, not really listening. "Look, it isn't our first choice either. But, these humans keep getting closer and closer to us. We have to watch them. Plus, you were one of the best. You'll be fine to scout for the day."
"But, but-"
"I'm sorry, but that's final. Make arrangements, and meet the scouting party in an hour."
Isallia had recruited the help of her friend, Niyi to watch Rhala while she was gone. "Silra is just being ridiculous," Niyi said. "How can she think to do this to you?"
She reluctantly handed Rhala to her. "Yeah well, I'm not getting much of a choice in this. I promise, I'll be back by nightfall." She gently kissed Rhala's forehead as she said this. She hoped she was right.
* * *
That was not at all what had happened. Some human hunters had found their party just before the sun had set. They had slaughtered all the others, but for some reason kept her. She hadn't figured out why, and she dreaded to find out the answer. They were getting close to the keep, she could tell.
"You can tell your king, he'll learn nothing from me," she spat. "I'd rather die than tell him the secrets of the elves."
A spear prodded her in the side. "Shut up, elf whore!" one of the hunters shouted. "You'll do what we say, and right now, that's shut up!"
He prodded her again to punctuate this sentence. Yva help her, she prayed to herself. She could only imagine what horrors awaited her at the palace.
She was dragged in to the great hall by three of the hunters. Two had proven too few when she put up a good fight to get away. The king, a tall and imposing man sat at the head of the table, clearly uninterested in this party disturbing his feast. Upon first glance, he seemed like a round, jovial sort of fellow with dark-red hair. But when she gazed into those eyes that looked at her like a predator eyes a meal, she knew that was not the case.
Isallia could not help but notice the large proportions of the women in attendance at the feast. They were all varying sizes of "large," some were downright immense. Many of them were too busy greedily devouring their dinners, brought on by a small platoon of servants. Only one or two bothered to look up at the strange, exotic creature before them.
"Your majesty," the lead hunter said, "while traveling the Pyknos Verge, we encountered the rare and beautiful creatures known as the elves. We were able to capture one. Perhaps she would make an excellent addition to your harem? For a price of course."
Her tall, pointed ears perked. What had they just said? Harem? They were sorely mistaken if they thought she would willingly...
"Hmm," the king said examining her with keen interest, "you know, she would do well here. I could use..."   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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