Beneath the Armor: An Elven Desire

Chapter 18

“The stone! Did we get the stone? Please tell me they didn’t die in vain,” John whispered, his voice a strained mix of desperation and disbelief.

Fay felt the weight of Drake’s gaze on her, a silent command to show them. She lightly raised her hand, the one clutching the mud-covered teardrop emberstone, hoping to find reassurance in their shared struggle.

John’s expression darkened as he frowned at her. “That’s just a rock, you stupid fucking elf!” Frustration and anger laced his voice, striking Fay like a physical blow. She flinched at his tone, the sheer venom of his words cutting deeper than she expected.

“Enough!” Drake’s voice boomed through the small cave, commanding immediate attention. He strode toward John, grabbing him by the shirt and lifting him off the ground, their faces inches apart. “That damn rock saved us from getting eaten! Get your facts right before opening your mouth,” he growled lowly, his anger radiating like heat from a fire.

John's face paled, the confrontation stunning him into silence as he realized the depth of Drake’s fury. “We are all upset by our losses today. We’re all angry at the king’s damn orders. But you do not take it out on our own,” Drake continued, releasing John, who stumbled backward, barely catching himself against the rough wall of the cave.

“She’s not one of our own,” John stated defiantly, his voice shaking but insistent.

Drake paused, his eyes narrowing. “Really? I didn’t see you staying in there to help me or the others. Yet the outsider did. For an outsider, I would trust her more than you at this stage.” The words hung in the air like a challenge, an accusation that made the atmosphere crackle with tension.

Fay kept her head ducked, uncomfortable with the argument being centered around her. She frowned, double-checking her hand. A small chunk of mud was missing, revealing the dirty orange underneath. “It is the emberstone…” she murmured to herself, uncertainty creeping in despite the events that happened earlier.

“You can’t be serious, Commander,” John scoffed, disbelief etched on his features.

“Let’s get out of here. Once we get back to the kingdom, you can work out where you want to be, John,” Drake growled, his voice low and filled with resolve. He turned away from John, stalking over to Fay and offering his hand to help her stand.

Fay took his hand, grateful for his support but keeping her eyes low, the emberstone clutched tightly in her other hand. Her body protested against the movement, every muscle aching from their harrowing escape, but she quickly followed Drake out of the cave and onto the long journey back to the others.

As they stepped into the bright evening light outside, Fay heard a distinct thud behind her, followed by John’s groan of pain. She didn’t dare look back, focusing instead on the path ahead.

The journey down the mountain felt endless—long, tough, and shrouded in an oppressive silence. Each step was a battle against exhaustion, and Fay's body protested every movement, her muscles aching and weary. She focused intently on the uneven ground beneath her feet, determined not to stumble again. A few times, she wobbled, but she managed to catch herself, though the effort felt monumental.

Drake walked just infront of her, and she could sense his eyes on her every now and then, a steady presence that both comforted and unnerved her. She kept her gaze down, her thoughts swirling in a tumult of uncertainty and pain. John’s words echoed in her mind, sharp and cutting: “She’s not one of our own.”

Why was it that elves were so often cast aside by humans?

Fay wrestled with the question, feeling the sting of rejection seep into her bones. She had always known there was a divide, a chasm between their worlds that felt insurmountable. But why? What had her people done to earn such disdain? They had once fought alongside humans in countless battles, had shared knowledge and magic, and yet the prejudice lingered like a shadow over her every interaction. At least that was what she was taught.

Was it the way they looked? She thought, glancing at her hands, delicate and slender, her skin the same shade as the others, just slightly more tan. Did their pointed ears and ethereal beauty make them seem otherworldly, untrustworthy? Fay didn't see herself as beautiful. Average maybe at best. The human women she had meet so fair, Alison were much better looking then her. Maybe the ethereal beauty was another delusional fact her elders manipulate them with.

Fay recalled stories of her ancestors, of elves who had once been revered as wise and powerful allies. But over time, that respect had eroded, replaced by fear and misunderstanding. What had changed?

Her thoughts turned to John’s anger, how quick he was to dismiss her as an outsider. Did he see her as a threat? She could almost remember the whispers that had followed her once drake had brought her into his squad —the murmurs of mistrust and the warnings of danger that filled the air whenever elves were mentioned. She had tried so hard to prove herself, to show that she was more than just a label, but it felt futile in moments like this.

Drake’s steady presence offered some solace, a reminder that not all humans shared John’s narrow-mindedness. As much as she wanted to keep her head down, she felt a flicker of hope when she thought of him—his strength, his determination. He had stood up for her when it mattered most, defending her against John’s harsh words. He defender her a lot. But was that because he felt he was responsible for her. But even that glimmer felt overshadowed by doubt. She feared that even in his eyes, she would always be the elf, the outsider, the weaklink.

As they continued their descent, she took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of her thoughts. She needed to focus on the present, the journey ahead. They were alive, and they had the emberstone, whatever for she did not know. She might not be one of them, but she was determined to fight for her place in this world, to prove humans and elves could live in a world as equals.

They arrived back at their camp as the sun began its descent over the horizon, casting a warm glow across the tired faces of the group. Fay lagged a small distance behind the others, her feet dragging with each step as she struggled to will herself forward. The sight of the tents and horses, usually a comforting reminder of safety, offered her little encouragement to cover the remaining distance.

Drake had fallen back to walk with her for a bit, his presence a steady anchor amidst her fatigue. But as her pace continued to slow, he offered to carry her. A rush of heat bloomed in her cheeks at the suggestion, embarrassment flooding her. “No, I can’t,” she declined quickly, not wanting the others to see her as even more of an outsider or a weak link.

Drake grumbled something under his breath, frustration evident, but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he encouraged her to push through before returning to the front with the others. Fay could feel his eyes on her every now and again, along with Wyatt’s, a mixture of concern and camaraderie that felt both comforting and suffocating. But John’s scornful gaze burned into her, reminding her of the place amoungst humans. She pushed herself a little harder whenever she felt his eyes on her, determined not to show weakness.

“Commander!” she heard a call as they neared the campsite, the other men scrambling from around the site to greet them on their return. A hushed silence fell over the group as Drake informed them of the fallen soldiers. Fay watched as they bowed their heads, a clear sign of respect and honour among them. It was a beautiful gesture, but it only deepened the ache in her heart, a reminder of what they had lost.

After a few moments of silence, the group began to speak again, some of the men handing out bowls of food. Fay caught up with the throng, but instead of joining them, she bypassed the crowd and made her way to her tent. The emberstone felt heavy in her pocket. She dropped it onto Drake's cot before collapsing into her own cot.

As she fell onto the cot, her body protested like nothing she had ever felt before. Every muscle ached, her bones felt like jelly, and the exhaustion washed over her like a tidal wave. It was as if all the fatigue she had held at bay finally crashed down in one overwhelming surge. She barely had time to close her eyes before sleep claimed her, pulling her into its depths in a matter of seconds, where the chaos and sorrow of the day faded into the comforting embrace of oblivion.