The Death of a Tyrant's Concubine

CHAPTER 05 - Silly mortal girl

***

I spun and slashed at the air behind me, but once again, the room was empty. My pulse quickened. 

I just saw his reflection, didn't I?

"What trickery is this?" I snarled at the shadows, Raincatcher poised to strike at the first sign of the man.

"You always react this way," the voice sighed, teasing. "Can't you ever greet me calmly? Or maybe a bit lovingly? Is that too much to ask?"

"Show yourself, and maybe I won't kill you!"

I swung the dagger toward the empty hearth, dust swirling in the moonlight streaming through the broken window. My eyes darted from the cobwebbed corners to the tattered bed and the closed door, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Look at the dagger, Rainey."

A chill slithered up my spine as I angled the blade, dread coiling in my gut. At first, there was nothing. But then, like a figure emerging from fog, his form appeared in the steel's reflection, standing behind me.

I whirled to face him — nothing.

"Stop this game!" I shouted, breathless.

"I'm not playing," he said, his voice soft, almost innocent. "I'm right here, in the dagger."

"What?"

I glanced down at Raincatcher, and there he was, reflected as if standing right beside me. He leaned over to look at the blade alongside me like a curious boy. His eyes met mine in the steel and he smiled, a dark smile that sent my heart racing.

"Do you see it now?" he asked, his voice a silken whisper.

"You're... a ghost?" I ventured, my grip tightening on the gilded hilt. Now that I had a proper look at him, his skin had a strange greyish tint to it. And his clothes, although quite exquisite with its black and gold design, was very much outdated.

His expression soured, a flicker of turquoise flashing in his eyes as he pointed at his elongated ears.

"Ghost? Don't insult me. I'm an elf, you silly mortal girl."

An elf?

I blinked in disbelief.

"But... elves only exist in old stories."

His eyes rolled, shifting to a greener hue.

"Go extinct for a few thousand years and suddenly humans think you're a myth."

"Why are you inside my dagger?" I demanded.

He strolled around in the reflection, idly inspecting the rundown furniture in the room.

"Something similar to your situation happened to me once, a long time ago. Only, I didn't get a second chance to redo my mistakes or get revenge. My soul got trapped in the very blade that took my life."

"So, you are a ghost." I repeated, this time with certainty.

His eyes flashed an emerald green.

"Stop calling me that. It's dreary, and I'm not haunting anyone."

"Then what are you doing?"

"Helping. Obviously," he said with an eye roll. "Though, admittedly, I might not be great at it..."

His gaze shifted back to a blueish tone.

"What do you mean?"

The elf's playful demeanor faltered. He gestured toward the dusty shelf above the hearth.