The Demon and the Elf (Book 1)

Chapter Twenty Two pt 1

Chapter Twenty Two

(TW: violence)

Seventeen years ago, it was a bright day. The sun lit fields and the freely flying birds brought no ill premonition. Although, the bright fields made clear any obscurities that may come their way...

Mainly noted, the flock of wings covering the blue skies.

The king, once who had a sense of humanity, had gone into a craze after the queen had disappeared. Not visibly. Visibly, he still held a stern face, but there was a darkness in his eyes. He grew colder and more isolated. Where had she gone? He sent out guards everyday on a hunt through the demon lands, the territory-less lands. Searching every inch, he was determined: He would not lose what belongs to him. He would find his queen.

And he did.

That warm day, demon guards had flown over the no territory lands, and Vrona had seen them miles away under the shadows of trees. Originally, she was planning to go out to gather herbs while Eial visited the vendors in the elven town. It would be a short trip and she would have been back by the time he had arrived again. However, the flock of demons changed her plans drastically. She could not let the guards find the elf.

She ran stealthily through the trees, furthering herself from the base she had lived with Eial. When the trees were no longer in view, she figured she was far enough. Lifting her wings, she jumped, and with a downward swing, she lifted. Bringing the guards attention to her. Taking the guard's attention away from anywhere near where their home was or anywhere near where Eial could be.

Seeing a lone demon in the distance, the guards knew there was a strong chance it was her. Noticing her fly away, they followed her direction.

Vrona was a demon who did not use her wings much. Much less so in the past few years she'd taken care of the elf babe, to hide her presence. Considering so, her wings had already started to feel heavy. But she had no plans of getting caught.

Taking scraps of parchment she'd always kept in her cloak, she wrote spells. As a sheet touched a guard who closed in, there was a mild burst. The spell has taken the surrounding air and condensed it, letting the condensed air blow off in contact. It was only a mild spell, but Vrona did not have much with her, and a small distraction was worth gold.

Heaving, losing stamina, she landed on the tall grass, drawing her wings close. She had an advantage in the wild that the guards did not around the palace. Using the environment, the soil, the greenery, anything she could find, she set traps in the field with her spells. Vines of roots would tangle their ankles, the soil would turn to mud, the stickiness slowing down each step.

But the Vrona in this time was not as skilled at combat. With the increasing guards in the field searching for her, she had eventually gotten caught.

Retracting her wings, she struggled as her wrists were tied up with tight rope. Meanwhile, the guards struggled as she kicked them from tying her feet. Eventually, both their struggles stopped as she was thoroughly tied up, whether from rope or magic, and was unable to move. The sky saw that night, a group of guards carrying the queen whose eye whites veined red.

Back at the palace, a sight Vrona hadn't seen for years, and a sight she didn't expect to be seeing at this perspective. She was shoved gently to the ground, still with respect for her title, while still respecting the orders from the king. Knees scraping against the floor, she sat on her heels, the king's looming presence in front of her.

"Where have you been?"

Silence.

The king grabbed a random servant by the back of their neck and brought them close. "Tell me where you have been, Vrona. Or would you like me to kill for each silent answer?"