Hungry is the heart

Prologue

A small author's note:
Although I've quite some experience as a writer, I've never really written in English before. It's not my first language, so I hope you can look past my mistakes. It's still a pretty cool story if I may say so myself :) 

150 years before

Hungry were the silver eyes that watched him. A shiver went down sir Feanrals spine. He had always thought of himself as a strong man, but he too couldn't be unfaced by the smell of rotten flesh that lingered in their city. The smoke of fires they used to burn the bodies had clung to everything. He was sure the watchful creature on the forest edge could smell it too, still she seemed unfaced. He could swear there was a smile on that humanlike face.
Why was it back for more? What else would it demand? The thoughts stirred restlessly through his brain as he glanced at the creature. He was ashamed to admit it, but at this point he would do everything to make it stop. He would leave this cursed place to settle on the other side of the world, if it was what the being demanded. Even in the many wars he had fought, he had never seen such cruel and senseless destruction. Hundreds of people pulled into a slow death, just with a single spoken word. Would that be his fate too? Fearal squeezed into his own arm, trying to keep his composure.
'Feanral,' the creature spoke. The pale lips showed sharp white teeth as it spoke, but its face remained soft. Like that of the kind woman he had once confused it with. He should have seen the warning the white antlers had tried to give him. This being wasn't human, it had no care or respect. It might very well be soulless.
'Are you here to take the rest of us?' He responded, failing to speak with a steady voice. He noticed his men gathering behind him. None of them drew a weapon, they knew it would be senseless.

'I might, I might not,' the creature answered. 'Why don't you come closer, so we can talk?'
With trembling legs he stepped away from the safety of the camp. He had to remain strong for his people. They trusted him, even through the tragedy that happened. He needed to show them it wasn't misplaced. He walked until he was two meters from the creature and kneeled down, lowering his head. 'What can we give you...' He looked up at the silver eyes, trying to guess its name.

'Lady Soliste,' it said as if it could read its mind. 'Guardian of everything you can see around you.'

He gave her a nod. 'Lady Soliste, we understand we traveled carelessly through your lands. Our attempts to settle here were ungrounded. Would you please allow us to leave? We beg you. These men have families who wait for their return, wives and children.'

'And so do I,' the creature answered. 'Haven't you seen the pleading eyes of the deer, heard the screams of the birds as you shot them? Why would I let you go?'
'I have and I regret everything we did.' Not because he took shame in feeding his people, but because the anger it had awoken. They would have been better off starving to death.

The creature studied him. A smile creeped on her lips. 'I won't let you go.' Her voice echoed through the silence, as if the sound could blow their camp away. 'I will let you settle, I will let you hunt within reason.'

He struggled to take a breath. If he had been younger he would have mistaken those words for mercy, but Feanral knew better. 'What do you demand in return.'

'A small favor,' Lady Soliste answered. 'Each year I will claim one or two of you and your mens daughters for myself. They are to walk into the wetlands at sunset. If the price is paid and my lands are respected, I will allow you peace and bless the ground you borrowed.'

Feanral felt the cold wind pull on his clothes. The lady's words sickened him to his stomach. Blood would flow forever on these cursed grounds. But was it worse than what would happen if they returned home, with men fallen for no gain? How much was a human life worth if it meant they would live under the protection of this creature. Nobody would dare to raise a weapon against the goddess in front of him. One life a year, would save hundreds, if not thousands.
It was a price worth escaping the wrath of a powerful enemy and an amount he gladly paid to gain such a strong ally.
'We can grant you that favour.'

Soliste smiled while extending her arm. Her pale nails looked sharp like knives.

He rose to his feet and shook her head. 'Thank you.'
'I look forward to meeting your daughter.'