Shadow Jewel: The Heart of Elovia

Half-blood

Lilit shifted and fidgeted as she tried to find a comfortable position on the filthy floor of her prison. Her gemstone had lost its brilliance in the all-pervasive dust; its fading gleam reminded her of her own mortality. She seemed to have lain there in the dirt awaiting her fate for rather a long time. She had no hope of being rescued; she was a slave. Not only that, she was a half-blood, half Demon, half Diamondite, a creature that had no right to even exist. She spun around at the sound of clanging footsteps that signalled the unmistakable approach of a warrior. She knew only warriors were allowed to wear iron-shod boots and fear arose within her. Searchers were said to be in the area on the lookout for rebels and runaways; it was more than likely one of them would decide to take a look at the inmates of the slave dungeon. Withdrawing her emaciated body into the cover of darkness, she shielded her gemstone’s gleam with her hand. Keeping her head low she waited for the footsteps to pass her by, as they had so many times before, but this time luck was not on her side. The boots and their wearer stopped directly in front of her; she stared in utter disbelief at their worn leather.
“Let’s see your face, girl!” a rough voice commanded. Lilit’s last hope evaporated in an instant and despite the man’s harsh commanding tone she gave no reaction, but just sat there without moving. “Trying to ignore me, are you?” he barked. A pair of knees came into her view as he crouched before her and ran his fingers through her hair. “What an extraordinary shade this is! Black-violet is normally the hair colour of Demons or Fairies; Ah, I see you’re wearing a gemstone! Let me take a look at your eyes.”
She snapped her eyes shut, not wanting him to see the golden irises that would betray her Demon origins.

“Won’t you look at me?” he asked. She heard a scraping sound. From behind half-closed lids she saw that he was pushing a water pitcher in her direction. She had had nothing to drink for quite a while and her throat was parched and sore. Eyelids shut tight she reached for the handle of the earthenware vessel and drew it towards her. Greedily she lapped the cool refreshing water, fearing the man might change his mind and take it from her. “Won’t you look at me in return for my kindness?” he asked again.

She stopped drinking and relaxed her hold on the pitcher, even though her thirst was not fully quenched. The man took a deep breath and moved the pitcher out of her reach.

“Not everyone is as patient as I am. If you want to survive here, you need to show more respect.”

Through her narrowed eyes she saw his scarred hand reach for her gemstone, but before he could grasp it she jerked away from him. With the sudden movement she lost her balance on the slippery straw and toppled backwards, eyes wide with fear, revealing her yellow-gold irises to the man’s intense scrutiny.

“Good lord! Your eyes ... you’re a half-blood!” he spluttered, his voice thick with emotion.

Lilit bit her lower lip and quickly turned her head to the mouldy dungeon wall. Half-blood, she thought with bitterness, yes, she was a confounded half-blood. Without saying another word he pushed the water pitcher back to her, got up and left. As she watched him go she could see another figure lurking in the darkness. It had the shape of a woman, a beautiful woman. She was wearing a blood red diamond. Lilit kept her eyes fixed on the man’s back Something is missing she thought, something is not quite right, but no sooner had the thought occurred to her than it disappeared again and all that remained was the disturbing feeling that she had just had a close encounter with death.