Citadel of Shadows

Chapter One

Alamora

The desert sun was scorching hot, even when I was hidden within the trees near the border. My scars ached, as if I was experiencing the pain again. I nibbled the inside of my cheek, just watching the small group of guards and hunters 'guiding' the grey-clad figure towards our part of the Ashadrin lands. I had grown up in the forest, with the elves. I knew their language better than the Common that everyone had to learn. The head of the group was visible, even from this distance.

Her name was Yllia and she was elven. Tall, lithe, with sunset-red hair and gold-green eyes. She was wearing greens and browns, the armour made of thick leather and cloth. There was an elegant bow on her back, without a quiver. I had enchanted it to craft arrows, made of light and magic. She had loved it, so much so that it had become her favoured weapon.

"Alamora! I thought Anae told you to stay and help her with the illness sweeping around."

I rolled my eyes and strode forward, my silver-blue robes whipping around my legs.

"Yes, but she also told me to wait for you and your team, in case the Queen's...people had ambushed and injured you."

Anae was my adoptive mother, you could say. An older, half-elven woman with a sharp tongue and a sharper mind. She was the healer for the Citadel and she had taught me how to use my magic. The blacksmith, my friend Isan's father, had also shown me how to enhance weapons, such as Yllia's bow.

I was burning in the sun, which was a perk of being rather pale. I knew that the next day I would suffer from pink and tender skin.

Yllia approached me, golden and freckled, with a white grin that glittered with mischief.

"Aww, you were worried about me. I always knew you cared."

I chuckled and shoved her shoulder, my gaze wandering over to the figure. I could tell it was female, human from the lack of magic in her aura. Elves always had the magic of Tivani lingering in their blood. I always wanted to know what it would've been like to sense the first elves. Would it be more powerful or just a lingering taste of their 'mother'?

She did not seem to understand us. Not many knew the Elven tongue, even merchants had difficulty fully understanding the meaning. I moved my gaze back to Yllia.

"Oh, shush. It wasn't just you I would've had to heal. Do you know how tiring it is to heal more than two people in a row?"

I sighed, before wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her cheek. She nuzzled the top of my head, her hands finding their way to my shoulders. She was warm. Not the burning sun of the Wasteland, but the warmth of a fire on a cold night.

"I'm glad you're alright, though. I did worry for the first few nights."

My tone was falsely defeated, but I was looking up at her with a small smile, before giving her a quick peck and darting away.

"The Council will want to know you have her. I'll go alert them."

I looked up at the Citadel, which was a construct of weaving branches and vines, the trees impossibly tall and green. The ground was covered in a soft moss and the roots curved and intertwined with one another. It was home for many, but the elves ruled over them with the Council. It was comprised of the Elders, seven elves that had been there before the trees were made into the Citadel, when they used to hunt and survive on the forest floor.

The largest spire of the forest housed them, with chambers below and the prison below that. The top was where they held meetings and trials. I looked at the side, the dark wood that cleverly hid a ladder of thick vines. I started climbing, not allowing myself to look down. I had never been fond of heights.