The War Begins

Chapter 19 - A Change

I couldn't help myself so you get a second post this weekend. Cheers!

"Jenskyr!" Breena couldn't imagine who would know her name, and then she remembered that her collar had the symbol that was her name on the front and back. Dark elves had the eye sight to see it from far away if they wanted to. She slowly turned on her heels with her eyes still to the ground. A tall elf stood in front of a regal tent. The flaps were still flying from his exit, he looked furious. His shadows were flying around with force; he was very agitated.

"Come!" He yelled in very good common language. She scurried as fast as she could; there was no need to make him an angrier. The closer she got, the farther her stomach dropped. There was a very thick scar that went from the corner of his left eye and disappeared into his short dark hair. She knew of only one elf with that sort of scar, and she had never thought to face him. As she approached cautiously, another elf stormed out.

"Rydnarak!" Breena almost collapsed in fear. Rydnarak was the King of the dark elves. He was said to be the most vicious and relentless of all the kings to ever live.

"Quiet!" Rydnarak yelled back. "I have found a new subject. You are scaring her, brother." Breena started to tremble. She had escaped the pits to land in the hands of a more dangerous foe. These men would never let her go.

She peered up from under her lashes to get a look at the young prince standing at Rydnarak's side. She was so shocked she almost looked straight into his eyes. His skin was fair; he had almost no shadows to cover it. His eyes were not completely dark, but light like a forest elf. Like all dark elves his eyes were slanted, she already knew he was young for an elf but old for a human, and the whites of his eyes were indeed white, but the entire iris was blacker than pitch. He was a strange combination of light and dark elves. His appearance gave truth to the rumors that the old King had a son from a noble light elf slave.

Rydnarak gently grabbed her by the crook of her arm. He nodded and before she could wonder what he was doing, three other sets of hands replaced his. She whipped around and noticed that three of the King's soldiers had been waiting by the side of the tent for any signal. Rydnarak turned and headed back into the tent with a wave for the guards to follow. The prince cast her a look full of pity, worry, and sorrow. She couldn't help but feel that her day couldn't get any worse; she should have taken the rescue when it came earlier.

"Nar, how did you find a replacement so soon? And why? You told me you were taking a break from all of this."

Nar? Breena wondered, but she quickly realized Nucyron, the Prince, was talking to his older brother, Rydnarak. It was strange to think that he had been a young boy and had a childhood nickname his brother had bestowed upon him. Everyone was young and innocent once.

Once the younger brother had disappeared, her guards yanked her in with no heed for her safety or well being. If her arms didn't have marks from Frynkanj, these guards would place them there. The King was busy yelling at the younger brother when she was finally dragged into the tent.

"I do not care if you are my brother and you gave me that name!" The brother had obviously tried to defend himself with words. "I am the King and you will give me respect and do as I ask." Rydnarak was growling and had his hand clenched tight around his brother's throat. The younger elf didn't seem bothered, as if this situation happened often. Breena realized that it probably did.

"Fine, Your Majesty. Then let me ask again. How did you get another so soon, and why? You said you were done." He kept his voice very calm and Rydnarak seemed to respond in kind, relaxing his grip at the affirmation of his rank.

"I'll tell you brother. She came to me; it must be a sign! She will be the answer to all the problems." Rydnarak sounded insane.

Breena hoped that his ranting made sense to someone who knew what they were talking about. As she was held, trembling, by the three elves, another person was hauled into the room. She instantly realized that there was another tent through the flap at the back. The boy was very young, he looked to only be ten years old, but he hung limp in the arms of his bearers.