The Elf Thief

Chapter 42: He Who Stains the Snow With Blood

Chapter 42

He Who Stains the Snow With Blood

The longhouse was much warmer than Sonya had expected. The thatched room kept out both snow and rain, causing the fire to keep the room a comfortable temperature. The room seemed to be empty, except for the torches lining the side, a throne at the far end, and a circular platform in the center.

Laione lead the way and Abanth walked behind her. Sitting on a raised platform, was a manticore. His mane was a reddish-orange, and his eyes were beady and dark. Bat-like wings were folded at his side, and a scorpion’s tale flickered back and forth behind him, like a cat ready to pounce.

“I wish to speak to the elf,” the beast rumbled. Laione and Abanth stepped off to the side, heads bowed. The manticore studied her for a moment and Sonya shifted her weight. She couldn’t help but wonder what this creature was thinking.

“I am Chief Mangino Kalur, the Sovereign of Frost, Slaughterer of Kings, and He Who Stains the Snow with Blood. Who are you, to come into my presence?”

Standing a little taller, Sonya lifted her chin and replied, “I am Sonya Elvenchild, Daughter of the Trees and Protégé of the Elf Thieves. I come to ask for a place to rest, and to call upon your people, as guardians of the land, to fight against an evil greater than either one of our differences.”

A booming laugh came from Mangino’s maw. “The little creature knows what it wants!" he said. "Yet she does not understand what she asks. Tell me, Elvenchild, why should we leave our home and fight for a race that wishes to destroy us? The outside world has never been a friend to the manticores. Both your people and others have hunted us almost to extinction when they first sailed to this land.”

“Sailed!” exclaimed Sonya. “What do you mean ‘sailed?’”

“You did not truly think that your people were native to this land? No, you came from a land far away, sailing across Centurius’ Sea to the far west. You then moved inland until you reached the mountains, which you could not pass. It was there that you found the manticores, and slaughtered almost every one of us. We found refuge in this mountain pass, only accessible by the wings of a manticore. We will not help those who tried to destroy us!” The chieftain’s voice had turned into a low growl, full of hatred and anger.

Sonya stood taller, refusing to be belittled by this beast. Lifting her chin, she said, “The King will destroy the elves. Then he will massacre the fay. He will hunt down the dwarves, and oppress his own people. And believe me, he will find a way into these mountains. And he will slaughter every one of you. He is power hungry, and he will not stop until he has conquered the world or died trying. Right now, he is batting an insect flying around his head. The elven resistance can only occupy his attention for so long before he moves on the greater conquests. He is insane. He does not know the limits of mortal beings. If we do not stop him, he will continue to wreak havoc on the realm and tyrannize all under his rule.”

Mangino stood, his scorpion-tail waving dangerously. “If I did not know better, elf, I would say that you were threatening us.”

“I am only stating what I know,” Sonya stated. “The King is mad. He will go to measures that no sane man would even dream of going to. I have already felt something change; a dark magic is growing stronger. It has haunted my dreams since my youth, but now it is growing stronger...clearer.” She shook her head, as if trying to escape a haze that clouded her mind.

“And what is this growing dark magic?” Mangino replied.

Anger flared up in Sonya. Did she hear amusement in this creature’s voice? Disbelief? Baring her teeth, the elf hissed in anger, positioning herself to attack. Fury flowed through her and she felt the itch to attack throughout her body like a second skin. A low growl from Laione reminded her that she would lose miserably in an actual fight, but her blood was running hot through her veins. She hadn’t fought a good battle since the hydra, and she was eager to feel the mindlessness of combat again.