Ravien

4

I feel myself being picked up, roughly yanked at the shoulders by metal-clad hands. The rough treatment shakes me out of my thoughts. Snapping back to reality I realize that Kasrit is carrying me in his arms, my face mere inches from the sharp planes of his green armor.

"Sorry Ravien but we have to get going if we're going to get you to the king in time."

"The king?! Why are you taking me to him?"

"You're the first elf we've seen since... well, you know. We have to make sure you're not a spy."

"But I'm not a spy!" Kasrit doesn't answer and instead continues walking, neglecting the fact that I have two perfectly functioning legs, even if they are still covered in slowly healing runes.

With that, he sets me down and gently pushes me toward his horse. She's a beautiful animal, tall and strong, her coat a mix of white and chestnut colors. She nickers softly as I approach, the only one in this band of Sriat who seems happy to see me. Tentatively, I approach the horse, allowing her to take in my scent. After a moment she pushes her warm, velvety nose into my hand and lets me stroke her soft fur.

Sighing, I reach around her, grab hold of the saddle and swing myself onto her back. Kasrit mounts behind me, his arms reaching around to hold the reins, boxing me into him. Uncomfortable, I look around, focusing on the environment instead of the Sriat's armor digging into my back. I take in the towering oak trees, the birds chirping, and the morning sun shining above. As I watch the landscape change, the horse's hooves eating up the land, my eyes drift close and I slump forward onto the horse's neck, fast asleep.

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Kasrit shakes me awake, his fingers digging into my still healing runes. Hissing, my eyes snap open and I glare back at him.

"We've arrived" is all he says before removing his hand and staring straight ahead.

Blearily, I rub my eyes, some of the leftover camouflage coming off onto the soft woven fabric of my tunic, now ripped in numerous places and practically falling off my torso. Once my eyes clear I look up in awe. The building towering above me is made entirely of stone, its walls are hewn straight from the mountain it's recessed into. We're approaching a giant archway, shot through with veins of emerald and laden with ivy.

As we pass underneath the entrance, the clopping of horse hooves echoing in the darkness, the green fire of torches becomes apparent. With their illumination, I can better see the high ceiling supported by sturdy stone columns.

At the far end of the room, slowly coming into sight, is a throne made completely of emerald and atop the throne sits the first Sriat I've seen without armor. His obsidian skin is pulled taut over corded muscles hardly covered by the leather and hammered bronze he wears. His hair, almost as long as my own, is dark and shiny, not a hair out of place which frames the masculine planes of his face with a kind of austere severity. As my eyes travel from his hair to his eyes I gasp as I find them trained onto mine with the discerning clarity of a predator. His startling green eyes see right through me, analyzing and calculating every aspect of my form. With a shiver, I realize that I would never be able to hide anything from this monument of strength and power.

As we reach the foot of the throne, the Sriat dismount, Kasrit yanking me down after him, pushing me to my knees. Mriat then steps forward and after a deep bow begins to speak.

"My king, we were on our first patrol when this elf appeared from amongst the bushes. We've held off on questioning her and now bring her to you. As always, we await your judgment."

With not a hint of surprise emerging in his hard emerald eyes, he rises and comes to stand before my kneeling form. "What do they call you, elf, and why have you emerged from the depths of the Ytrian forest?"

"I-I am Ravien, sir, and I left my forest because I could no longer stand by and watch as the elves performed their atrocious acts. I had to escape, I had to have a taste of freedom for myself."

"Interesting, an elf that rejects her own kind. How, pray tell, are we supposed to know whether we can trust you? Are you a spy, Ravien?"

"NO! No, I'm not a spy! I thought the elves were my family and instead, they indoctrinated me with their cruelty and forced me into a ceremony of excruciating pain. That is why I have fled. I must ensure that the elves are reformed and the innocents freed from their brainwashing."

"Hmm, well we shall see whether you tell the truth Ravien. I will house you in my stronghold and we will later gauge whether what you say holds some merit." Shifting his attention from me, the Sriat king directs his piercing glare at the band that brought me here. "Mriat, you and your men are free to go. I will take it from here."

Bowing, Mriat and the band of Sriat depart but not before I catch Kasrit giving me a worried glance. The king gestures me forward with a leather-clad hand and I begin to follow. Taking a deep breath, I reassure myself that 'There's nothing to worry about, I can take care of myself. I'll prove myself to this king and show the world that there are some worthy elves in this land of Elsinore.'

I'm led through tunnels with soaring arches shot through with the same emerald stones as the entrance. I can't gawk for long however because the king has stopped. Turning, he gives me a once-over before opening the door and letting me see my new room.

It's sparsely furnished, a bed hewn of stone tucked in one corner and a small alcove meant for morning rituals in the other. 'I'm going to have to get creative with that bed, it doesn't look very comfortable.' Before I'm able to work some meager magic, however, the king breaks the silence.

"You say the elves forced you through a ceremony. What did they do to you?"

Still facing away from him I sigh before carefully peeling off my ripped tunic. All I hear is a surprised intake of air. It's the first and only emotion the king has shown since I've been brought here.

My carefully probing fingers had already told me that my back wasn't healing well but the king's reaction was even more proof. My previously smooth silver skin was only left in thin strips, the spaces between each piece of skin glowing with my purple hue and lurid with the rich red of my blood.

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Thank you for reading!

The king doesn't seem too keen on Ravien, what do you think it'll take for her to win his trust?

Tell me what you think. :)

Till next time.