The Lost Kingdom

Chapter 14 - Pep Talks and Blood

"Azeria!" Ivory felt the girl's name slip from her lips as she fought with an elf. Azeria had crumbled to the sand like a lifeless doll, taking fatal blows from the twisted elves without a fight. The elves were small, with pointed ears and fangs. They did not wield swords, but had sharpened their nails. Ivory had expected tall, slender creatures with normal teeth for elves, but they were not.

The moon illuminated Azeria's bloody figure as she curled in a ball, letting the elves tear at her, kill her. Ivory didn't bother with opening herself up to the girl's emotions, before taking a dagger in each hand and charging.

Two elves fell dead as Ivory slit their throats, seemingly out of nowhere. She could hear Azeria's sobs, but now the elves had turned their attention on a more lethal target. Suddenly, Ivory felt stupid for putting herself in this situation; there was one of her and three of them.

The first elf that came at her had blue eyes, cold and slitted. It leaped at Ivory, claws outstretched, and the other two followed after it. Ivory managed to knock down one, but the other two tackled her to the ground, heavier than one might think. The daggers slipped from her grasp, disappearing. She felt their claws digging into her skin, and a fiery pain ran up her arm. Her back to the ground, all she could see was the face of a heartless monster intent on tearing her apart.

Ivory kicked upward, throwing it off. The other elf, however, took the chance to scratch its claws down her stomach, which was protected only by the cloth of her dress. She felt for her daggers in the sand as the other elf reappeared, fangs showing. Panic rose in her throat, but she pushed it down. Two tiny, dull little creatures were trying to kill her, and she didn't plan on dying. For some reason, she felt the need to live again, and she hadn't felt that for ages.

With a new burst of energy, Ivory pushed herself from the ground and found her daggers, glinting as a ray of moonlight hit it. She was able to retrieve them, and as she bent down, she was prepared for the elves to come at her. As they jumped at her, Ivory moved out of the way and slashed her weapon across one elf's throat. It fell, bleeding from the neck, the sand stained crimson. The other elf glanced at its fallen comrade, and hissed before darting away.

Thankfully, no elves had bothered Azeria while Ivory dealt with the others. Fear pulsed through her as she considered that it could be because the girl was dead. But as she approached, Azeria's shoulders shook with more tears, and Ivory let out a breath of relief.

Battle was still raging around them. Prince Ronan was fighting off elves from the tent that Prince Erick rested in, side by side with Princess Ravene. Ivory took in Azeria's bloodied form, and kneeled beside her.

"You didn't fight," she said, and there was a hint of accusation in her voice. The Azeria she knew did not give up.

Azeria stared up at her, her glazed eyes filled with pain. "Don't they have families too?" she choked our, tears making her cheeks shine. "What if back in their kingdom, someone just lost their brother? Their husband? Their son or daughter or wife or ... or their best friend?"

The shape shifter shivered, and brought her knees to her chest. "I'm a coward."

Ivory scowled, and suppressed the urge to slap Azeria. She was already hurt enough, physically and emotionally. "Yes, you are," she spat instead, and Azeria's eyes widened. "Do you think these creatures feel anything besides hatred? They are minions, controlled by Drago Vladmeer, ordered by him to slaughter us all in our sleep! We would all be dead had you not awoken us. Malifimus would have taken over Ellamenta, and the world would be doomed. They brought their destruction upon themselves. And yet you refuse to fight?

Do you think your life means nothing? That you are replaceable, disposable? You've mistaken yourself for me. You are powerful, more so than you even realize, and valuable to any wise leader. So get up, shut up, and fight like the warrior you are. There is a time to mourn and there is a time to fight. This is not the moment to mourn."