Ravien

2

The gently waving tawny grasses stretching as far as the eye can see make my heart race and my throat constrict.

'Do I have any idea what's out here? Where do I go from here? Can I really do this? I know the elves are awful and all but what if the world out there is even worse. What then?'

Before the self-doubt cripples me, however, I force my legs to move. One foot forward, deep breath as the movement pulls the runes in my skin, next foot forward, repeat. I continue this pattern and as the grasses lengthen from knee-length to six feet tall, almost reaching my shoulders my mind opens and my breaths come easier. Doubts and thoughts melting away I almost miss the stone road until I trip and land on my face, the breath knocked out of me.

Startled, I quickly take in my surroundings. It seems that as I was walking the grasses had turned into a forest of oaks and that I was now sprawled on what seemed to be a main road. The sound of hooves nearing snaps me back to the present. In a flash, I scramble upright and jump into the brush on the edges of the road. Hunkering down I try to make myself as small as possible. The sound of horses comes nearer and nearer, bringing the sounds of shouted commands with them.

'Maybe I should have performed some kind of invisibility spell...' but too late, the horses are upon me and through my makeshift hiding spot, I can see the glinting of jade-colored metal and the distinctly charcoal skin of the riders.

'No... it can't be. Sriats? I thought they were extinct, or at least some kind of mythical creature...'

The Masters were the ones who taught the young elves everything we needed to know about the world around us. They'd told us about the proud, magic-less race of the Sriats whose most treasured ability was their fabled strength. We were taught that they were extinct, their demise shrouded in mystery.

'Seems like the Masters lied about a lot more than I had thought.' More and more my decision to leave the elves seems like the right decision. 'The Sriats won't hurt me, we elves are descendants of their mighty race, albeit we were gifted magic.'

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Rising from my crouch I call out with a smile, "Brethren! So glad am I to see your fabled race with mine own eyes! Please, I am called Ravien and I have escaped the foul elves of Ytrian. Take me in as one of your own for I will not disappoint you."

One of the Sriat, perhaps of slightly larger size than the others turned his helmeted head towards me, surprise gleaming in his onyx eyes. "Well well well, what have we 'ere? A worm who thinks herself worthy of being a part of the Sriat royal guard? We'll see about that. Tie 'er up!"

As his words process, time seems to stop and I can feel my pulse pounding in my head. 'They want to tie me up? As their prisoner! Why would they do that to an elf, we're supposed to be related. What is happening?!'

I feel the rope around my wrists and the world starts moving again. One of the Sriats made it behind me in my surprise! Ashamed at my lack of spirit I summon my power and rip through the bonds. Or.. at least I should have ripped through the rope. Instead, my hands are locked just as tightly behind my back by a rope I now realize is strangely humming.

Sensing my panic the leader lets out a booming laugh. "That ropes imbued with enough magic to keep even a drake subdued. I wouldn't try anything, worm, you'll slice your hands off before you get free."

Nevertheless, I continue to struggle and when the Sriat still behind me gets a little closer I throw my head back with as much force as I can, catching him squarely in the head. Even with his helmet on, he's dazed and when I feel his hands loosen on me I bolt.

Ducking out from under the surprised Sriat I pump my legs, trying to get as much distance between me and these brutes as I can. 'If I can just make it back into the forest I'll make it out.'

That's when I feel it. I look down to see the blade of a knife, gleaming wickedly, piercing through the muscle of my right thigh. An insane laugh leaves my lips as I realize that the blades pierced one of the largest runes on my body. The knife has pierced the very middle of the intricately drawn symbol, releasing waves of my deep purple into the air. With that last observation, my eyes roll into my head and I fall, darkness overtaking me.

Kasrit

After the elf fell we rushed into the forest, green armor jangling. She was the first elf any Sriat had seen since... well, since Fia'lon. That catastrophe is branded into every Sriat's mind, young and old, as the day the elves came for the world. Our elders would always scare us with stories of towering elves wielding deadly bows and crackling magic, felling hundreds of us at a time.

We escaped extinction by a hairsbreadth. The elves terrifying magic had failed and we Sriat took the opportunity to kill every elf we could get our hands on. At least, that's what the elders told us...

'Obviously they were wrong, otherwise, she wouldn't be lying across my saddle now.'

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The others had thought it a fitting punishment for me as the one who'd let her escape. Now she's my load to carry. Resentful and enraged I'd roughly thrown her still bleeding body onto my saddle, careful not to stain my own belongings but now...

I watch transfixed as the crackling purple energy works its way around the gaping wound in her leg, slowly knitting lean muscle fibers together and closing her silvery skin around the hole. My gaze then shifts to her face, covered in a poor attempt at camouflage. It does little to hide her strong brow, her angled cheekbones, and the slight pink of her lips. With her snow-white hair hanging long and tangled from the side of my horse, she looks more like a feral wolf than an elf.

'Where did this creature come from and why did she think we would welcome her? Doesn't she know what the elves have done?'

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Till next time.