Page 14 of Kingdom of Lies

As I walk away from the building, I notice a figure lurking in the shadows. He seems to be watching me intently, and I feel a shiver of fear run down my spine. I quicken my pace, not wanting to draw his attention, but he follows me. I try to lose him in the maze of alleyways, but he keeps appearing around every corner.

I know I have to face him. I stop and turn to confront him, my heart pounding in my chest. He is tall, with a rough, unkempt appearance, and his eyes seem to hold a fiery intensity.

"Who are you?" I ask, my voice shaking.

He smiles, revealing a set of yellowed teeth. "I'm your savior," he says, extending a hand. "I have something that can help you."

I hesitate, and he uses that opportunity to lunge toward me. With a yelp, I stumble back, and take off sprinting. I know these alleys like the back of my hand, their weaving tunnels guiding me closer and closer to my home. I don't know how long it takes, but I finally lose him in the maze. Panting, I straighten my back, and begin to walk towards the small cottage that I call home.

The rain beats down on me, cold and unforgiving, but I ignore it.

In the distance, I can see a soft flicker of light through the heavy rain clouds. It's the familiar glow of the elf base camp.

That elf in the forest – could he be based there? I don’t know why I’m so convinced he might help me. Maybe the cold and rain and desperation have finally done my sanity in. But something tells me he might.

He helped me once.

I quicken my pace. I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope, a small spark of courage that burns brightly in my chest. I break out into a small jog, weaving through the darkness of the alleyways, the rain pounding against my skin, but I don't care. I'm not about to let my grandmother’s slip away.

As I approach the gates, I can't help but feel a sense of foreboding. It's a strange feeling, a knot in my stomach that twists and turns, as though I expect something bad to happen. I tell myself that’s just the normal expectation for a human around elves. Something bad usually happens.

“You here to see the captain?” An elf in a uniform tilts his head, looking at me skeptically.

“Yes.” I clear my throat. “Sorry about my appearance. The rain…”

But he’s already waving me through. I might not be much of a beauty right now, but at least I don’t look like any sort of threat.

Inside the camp, I search the crowd for the man in particular I can't seem to set eyes on. There's no one outside. The rain must have sent them all in. I stare up at the sky, it's dark clouds warning me to go home before I catch a chill.

Instead, I defy the rain, and settle down with my back to a tree. I have a clear view of the entrance, and if he passes through, I won't be able to miss him.

As the night deepens, the air grows colder and heavier with every passing moment. My body trembles, seeking warmth that it can't quite find. The steady rain against my skin has numbed me, but I don't dare move. I can't risk missing him..

As the hours pass, I feel a sense of desperation creeping in. With each merciless droplet that falls from the sky, it feels as though I'm being pelted with tiny daggers. But still, I hold my ground.

Finally, as the first streaks of dawn begin to break through the darkness, I see him. In the distance, he walks beside another, taller elf. They are animatedly talking, and I strain my ears to hear. My eyes stay glued to my quarry, and I step forward as I wish him to notice me.

8

DRAKNIR

Istorm out of my quarters into the cold night. The stench of smoke and unwashed bodies assault my senses. Torches flicker dimly against the dark canvas tents, muted conversations drifting on the crisp air of night. In the distance, the towering pines of the ancient forest beckon, where I hope to find solitude.

Fuming from the butler’s insensitive words, I stalk past patrolling guards. Their crimson eyes follow my hurried pace—the mindless thuds of weapons striking the ground grate on my nerves. I have to get away from here.

“Draknir? Where are you going?” I hear the low, rumbling voice of a man I’d much rather not talk to now. I wave off the soldier with a simple flick of my wrist, ducking off the path.

My father’s entourage will be here in a week. One week, until I’m confined to a woman I don’t know.

I need to flee into the night, and fast. My mind races with plans of flight as I head for the back gate, keeping to the shadows to avoid detection. I long for the solitude of the ancient forest, to clear my troubled mind with a long run under the pale moonlight.

But before I can slip unseen into the dark forest, a small figure blocks my path. I halt abruptly, then roughly shove aside the human girl. But she clings desperately to my leg, causing me to stumble.

It's her – the timid human female I spotted last night wrestling a scrap of bread from the jaws of a suru near the river. She looks up at me with wide, pleading eyes brimming with tears that reflect the glowing moon, her gaunt face etched with desperation.

As the human girl kneels pathetically before me, I take in her bedraggled state. Her dress is caked with mud, her hair hanging in ragged clumps, soaked from the rain. Angry welts and bruises mar her pale skin. She has the look of one who has been mistreated and cast out, like a stray batlaz.

"What happened to you?" I ask bluntly, scowling down at her battered form.

---