Chapter One.
New Environments.
I haven’t seen Aloriel in over a day. If she had survived the first attack, and they hadn’t let their dog eat her alive, I wondered how she was faring in this alien environment. In my own room, I watched the dog in the corner, sleeping as it stayed chained to the wall, just like me. In this light, it almost looked more like a victim in it’s own way, than another of my jailers. “Well, it’s awake,” a male voice said, and I saw a pair of doll-like eyes peering through the portal in the solid wood door I had been thrust through only hours earlier. “Yes, I am, human,” a female voice that wasn’t mine answered, though I know I had been the one who had spoken. My throat was cracked and painful. I had hurt it, too, screaming for Aloriel.
“Well, fae,” it replied with a tone amusement, the eyes crinkling in the corners. “I’ve brought something for you.” There was the sound of a bolt being thrown back, and then I watched in caution as the door opened, and a small man carrying a bucket of water and what looked like fruit came in. His old eyes had been the ones I had seen through the door. “What do you want with me? Where is Aloriel?” I asked, trying to stand on my injured leg that a snatcher had stepped on yesterday. “Right now, I want to bandage your wounds, like I’ve been instructed,” his voice was mildly irritated, and when he set the bucket down, a second one was set outside the door, with a rag hanging over the side. The man returned to the door, retrieved the second bucket, and then allowed for the door to be closed behind him by someone who did not show themselves.
“Where is Aloriel?” I demanded again of the man as he set to work on the wounds I had received the night previous. There were deep gashes that had bled thick dark blood from my veins, and that had now crusted over and dried. “I do not know anyone by that name, fae,” his voice was calmer now as he scrubbed away at my wounds, and something about him willed me not to push the question again.
“Where am I, then?” I asked. “Hunting town,” he replied shortly. I tensed. So if she was still alive, she was probably here somewhere. It was, however, a strong if. So where she could be here, where? My head throbbed, and I reached a hand up to see that my head too, had a minor gash. The man took my hand away and touched the warm, wet cloth to it. The injury stung when the water hit it, but my pale skin was becoming cleaner as slowly and steadily my blood came off my injuries and onto the cloth. When he was done, he applied cloth bandaging, and then motioned towards the two buckets he’d brought in first, containing the clean water and fruit. “Eat,” he instructed, before knocking at the door, and then blinking once or twice in the eyes of the person who looked back at him through a slit in the door. “I’m done,” the man said gruffly to the person I could not see, and then he was allowed out, and I was once again alone.
I took the time after he left to look with greater detail around the small stone room I was in. The walls and floors were all concrete – something I had only been exposed to once or twice in my life before. It’s cold hard texture was still alien, however, and curling my legs within my long and tattered dress, I was glad for the earthen fabric’s warmth. There was one small window, though metallic bars covered the would-be exit well, and I entertained no hopes of escaping through the small spaces. I looked at the shackle that dug slightly into my ankle, despite the slender build of my body. I was the size of the average ten year old child, but with thinner limbs and a more willowy figure, I only weighed the equivalent of eighty-five human pounds.
Across the room, the dog had woken from the human’s presence. He looked at me, not in anger or in hunger, but in sadness. Normally, animals and Fairy Folk got along fairly well, but dogs bred under human care were raised to be violent and kill those unfamiliar to them, and to protect their masters, all when told. This one looked slightly starved, as if it had been here for a while, neglected. I took a piece of fruit, an apple, and rolled it across the floor towards him. The creature sniffed it, but didn’t take it into it’s mouth. Thinking they might have been coated in something, I took another piece of fruit and sniffed it as well. There was nothing, but it meant that the dog liked his food a little redder. “Suit yourself,” I murmured under my breath, but said nothing more. It thumped it’s tail once and then sat it’s head down on it’s paws, sighing. Biting into the peach I had picked up, I ate it quickly, then drank some of the water with my hands, glad that this bucket, at least, was cold. I took a small handful of the water and let it splash onto the back of my neck and then used another to rinse the rest of my face off. My right leg was shackled, and because of it’s tightness, the injury the night previous and the abrasions from the shackle burned in synchrony. Through the bandaging, the water chilled the abrasions and the scrapes over it, and I sighed in relief.
Finishing the peach I groaned, realizing that I was now stuck with no way out, but maybe, I then thought, magic could help. A spark jumped from one hand to the other, and I smiled. But even that small amount of magic taxed me, in this human hovel. Away from the magic of my home, I was limited in my powers. Taking another apple from the bucket, I ate it quickly, and then I looked at the shackle’s locking mechanism. It was a padlock, and the small keyhole doubtless hid a plethora of different turntables and impossible mechanisms to pick with any ordinary picks. It was a good thing that I wasn’t looking to pick it. I was looking to make it explode.
New Environments.
I haven’t seen Aloriel in over a day. If she had survived the first attack, and they hadn’t let their dog eat her alive, I wondered how she was faring in this alien environment. In my own room, I watched the dog in the corner, sleeping as it stayed chained to the wall, just like me. In this light, it almost looked more like a victim in it’s own way, than another of my jailers. “Well, it’s awake,” a male voice said, and I saw a pair of doll-like eyes peering through the portal in the solid wood door I had been thrust through only hours earlier. “Yes, I am, human,” a female voice that wasn’t mine answered, though I know I had been the one who had spoken. My throat was cracked and painful. I had hurt it, too, screaming for Aloriel.
“Well, fae,” it replied with a tone amusement, the eyes crinkling in the corners. “I’ve brought something for you.” There was the sound of a bolt being thrown back, and then I watched in caution as the door opened, and a small man carrying a bucket of water and what looked like fruit came in. His old eyes had been the ones I had seen through the door. “What do you want with me? Where is Aloriel?” I asked, trying to stand on my injured leg that a snatcher had stepped on yesterday. “Right now, I want to bandage your wounds, like I’ve been instructed,” his voice was mildly irritated, and when he set the bucket down, a second one was set outside the door, with a rag hanging over the side. The man returned to the door, retrieved the second bucket, and then allowed for the door to be closed behind him by someone who did not show themselves.
“Where is Aloriel?” I demanded again of the man as he set to work on the wounds I had received the night previous. There were deep gashes that had bled thick dark blood from my veins, and that had now crusted over and dried. “I do not know anyone by that name, fae,” his voice was calmer now as he scrubbed away at my wounds, and something about him willed me not to push the question again.
“Where am I, then?” I asked. “Hunting town,” he replied shortly. I tensed. So if she was still alive, she was probably here somewhere. It was, however, a strong if. So where she could be here, where? My head throbbed, and I reached a hand up to see that my head too, had a minor gash. The man took my hand away and touched the warm, wet cloth to it. The injury stung when the water hit it, but my pale skin was becoming cleaner as slowly and steadily my blood came off my injuries and onto the cloth. When he was done, he applied cloth bandaging, and then motioned towards the two buckets he’d brought in first, containing the clean water and fruit. “Eat,” he instructed, before knocking at the door, and then blinking once or twice in the eyes of the person who looked back at him through a slit in the door. “I’m done,” the man said gruffly to the person I could not see, and then he was allowed out, and I was once again alone.
I took the time after he left to look with greater detail around the small stone room I was in. The walls and floors were all concrete – something I had only been exposed to once or twice in my life before. It’s cold hard texture was still alien, however, and curling my legs within my long and tattered dress, I was glad for the earthen fabric’s warmth. There was one small window, though metallic bars covered the would-be exit well, and I entertained no hopes of escaping through the small spaces. I looked at the shackle that dug slightly into my ankle, despite the slender build of my body. I was the size of the average ten year old child, but with thinner limbs and a more willowy figure, I only weighed the equivalent of eighty-five human pounds.
Across the room, the dog had woken from the human’s presence. He looked at me, not in anger or in hunger, but in sadness. Normally, animals and Fairy Folk got along fairly well, but dogs bred under human care were raised to be violent and kill those unfamiliar to them, and to protect their masters, all when told. This one looked slightly starved, as if it had been here for a while, neglected. I took a piece of fruit, an apple, and rolled it across the floor towards him. The creature sniffed it, but didn’t take it into it’s mouth. Thinking they might have been coated in something, I took another piece of fruit and sniffed it as well. There was nothing, but it meant that the dog liked his food a little redder. “Suit yourself,” I murmured under my breath, but said nothing more. It thumped it’s tail once and then sat it’s head down on it’s paws, sighing. Biting into the peach I had picked up, I ate it quickly, then drank some of the water with my hands, glad that this bucket, at least, was cold. I took a small handful of the water and let it splash onto the back of my neck and then used another to rinse the rest of my face off. My right leg was shackled, and because of it’s tightness, the injury the night previous and the abrasions from the shackle burned in synchrony. Through the bandaging, the water chilled the abrasions and the scrapes over it, and I sighed in relief.
Finishing the peach I groaned, realizing that I was now stuck with no way out, but maybe, I then thought, magic could help. A spark jumped from one hand to the other, and I smiled. But even that small amount of magic taxed me, in this human hovel. Away from the magic of my home, I was limited in my powers. Taking another apple from the bucket, I ate it quickly, and then I looked at the shackle’s locking mechanism. It was a padlock, and the small keyhole doubtless hid a plethora of different turntables and impossible mechanisms to pick with any ordinary picks. It was a good thing that I wasn’t looking to pick it. I was looking to make it explode.
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