The Dark Elf

Chapter 2

"Get up! Get up!"

The words echoed in Lymerra's mind, but something about the darkness seemed comfortable and easy, so she resisted them as long as she could. The rush of cold water splashed across her face, however, was enough to pull her from this painless sleep.

Lymerra awoke on the grand oak table in the middle of Elam's Laboratory. She wiped the water from her eyes and moaned as the great stinging of her back rang through her.

"Get up, girl! Your wounds have halfway healed, and we do not have the time we continue to waste!"

Lymerra sat up and ran a delicate finger across her back. He was right, the wounds did not fester and bleed. They had already scabbed over, all that was left was the pain from the force of the lashings.

"Dress yourself," Elam commanded, as he thrust a folded bundle of clothes into her arms.

The embarrassment of how many wicked Drow had looked upon her naked body flushed Lymerra's cheeks with rage, but she could not dwell on it now. Elam had made good on his promise, and this moment was for action.

She scrambled into the attire the old elf had chosen for her, A black tunic and black pants made of the fine woven fabric reserved for the court. Her feet remained in the heavy boots she had been dragged in with, and she found her usual belt and scabbard hidden within the pile.

Finally, she slid a black woolen cloak around her shoulders and pulled the hood over her head. The size of it could hide her entire face from view if she held her head at the correct angle.

"I have prepared a pack for you, and here, your weapons!" Elam looped her arms through a sodden brown pack while Lymerra reached for the silver blades leaning against the stone laboratory wall.

A rapier and dagger, weapons snatched from the training arsenal. They were her weapons of choice. Lymerra thought about how close Elam had watched her over the years.

"You will follow in my footsteps, and you will do exactly what I say as I say it!" Elam warned.

Lymerra nodded.

"Lord Elam, I wanted to thank- "

"Hush, you stupid girl! Mere moments have yet to pass until the door to the mountain passage is fully guarded again, and I have only prepared to take so many souls on this day. Now we make haste!"

The young Drow did not take the time to glance back as she followed Elam through the backdoor of his acrid laboratory. These were passages Lymerra had not explored, as the sections of the castle compound she had been permitted to walk were limited.

They moved swiftly through long stone passageways lined with locked iron doors. The hall twisted and curved, and around each corner, Lymerra's chest tightened as she anticipated who might be standing there. However, the corridor remained empty.

At the end of the mysterious hallway, a grand arch opened into a spiral staircase that plummeted into the depths of the earth. As they began their descent, Lymerra noticed that the walls were no longer made of stone but carved out of the earth itself. No torches lined the walls, only creatures of the night could operate down here.

The old elf and the hooded figure swept down the stairway with the grace and speed of Drow warriors. As Lymerra sensed the bottom of the well drawing near, she tensed her body. Her nerves were wrapped so tight they threatened to lash out like a coiled spring. Elam drew ahead of her, and as they turned the final loop, he held a palm back cautioning her to stop.

She froze, head bowed under her hood. Elam paused to compose himself, then rounded the earthen corner with confidence.

"Iymril command you," said a deep voice that Lymerra could not yet see.