Page 52 of Upon Buried Embers
“May Morana guide you,” she says as she leaves.
Morana would probably condemn me.
A dragon roars in the distance, Escor. I shake my head. Damn youngling will be the death of me.
With nothing left to do, and it now being late, I leave, nodding at Dohan, who will guard the entrance to the tent for the night, and make my way back to my cabin.
I would rather be in a tent, but the clan voted that I should have a solid home around me, no matter my protests.
A prickling sensation begins to form under my skin the closer I get to home, knowing who awaits inside. I pause at the entrance, steeling myself.
Taking a deep breath, I open the door and step inside. The flickering candlelight casts eerie shadows around the cabin, and for the first time since I picked up my little elf, I feel foreboding slither up my spine.
I shake it off, I have no time for things like apprehension.
Moving past the living space to my bedroom, I look through the curtain, preferring them over doors. I can see the outline of her tied to a pole.
I push through the curtain. She lays curled up on the ground, her arms around the pole, hugging it and my teeth clench so hard it hurts.
I’m not used to another in my space.
Her scent hits me next. It’s something floral, like a rose, and I tilt my head at her.
She’s asleep, her chest rising and falling slowly, almost too slowly. I’m not sure if it’s normal for elves or it’s because she’s hurt.
Dracozar has been fighting the elves since King Halen’s ascension to the throne some twenty years ago, so I haven’t seen one this close before.
Though I had tried at the border for a time.
King Halen is pushing his army to take over their territory, and any elf they have managed to capture has killed themselves. They would rather be dead than be at the hands of the king.
So how are some being smuggled to Lothmere?
Unless the little elf is lying and she’s a spy. But the collar around her neck…
I crouch beside her, moving her fiery red hair out of the way of her face, my eyes catching on the freckles there.
Such a dainty little thing.
She shivers, and her teeth clack together before she sighs, a little groan following it.
I look to the firepit and the barely visible embers. I shouldn’t be angry that it hasn’t been tended to, no one is allowed in here, but she’s cold.
Stepping past her, I grab some wood and place it in the pit. I poke and prod at it, waiting for it to catch light again and produce some warmth.
I’ll probably sweat my ass off, but she can’t be cold.
Turning, I grab a fur off my bed and haphazardly place it over her. Then, seeing her ear peek out, I touch the tip with my finger. She jolts awake, sitting up, green eyes wide with fear.
She doesn’t say anything as she looks at me, those green eyes mesmerizing me in a way no other has before.
I’m all out of options,I remind myself.
Elves have a way with animals, I spotted it instantly when she was with Serah, and now it’s time to put it even more to the test.
I may have a connection with Drogonah… but, I don’t speak dragon. The elf however, maybe she can.
“S-sorry,” she eventually whispers, lowering her eyes, a subtle tremble to her limbs.
