Revenge of the Elven

Chapter 2

“Varell?” the elf asked in a silken voice, but she could hear the rage in it as though he was making particular effort to hold it back. Was he here to kill her himself? She decided to draw her sword as her allies had their weapons ready. He did not seem at all concerned they all had their blades drawn against him and he stood before them, the heart of the assassin falling from his hand with a sickening splat as it hit the ground.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“All we need to know is that he is an elf, that is enough!” Arlan hissed and fired up his magic.

“Stop!” Varrell ordered.

“My name is Taeril, I am no threat not to you,” he said, his eyes glaring at Arlan who relinquished his magic. “I am seeking your help,” he continued.

“Why do you need my help?” Varrell asked and his eyes shifted from her back Arlan.

“I do not trust the magic wielder,” he said.

“But I do,” Varrell replied. Taeril moved his eyes back to meet hers, and reluctantly continued with Arlan’s presence.

“The magic wielders, as you know, enslaved my people –“ Arlan interrupted him.

“My people put yours under control after your reckless use of magic!”

“They experimented on us.They wanted to see what kind of forces they could use to create an army, to what purpose you might ask? I know that purpose,” he continued with eyes glaring at Arlan “my captors made the mistake of thinking they had broken me as they had done so many others and that I was as compliant as they were. They gave me the means to fight them, without realising it, but I only just managed to escape alive. I know where they are and I wish to return and rescue the rest of the elves they had but I cannot do it alone,” he said.

“What makes you think they are still there?” Varrell asked.

“I have been watching them making sure and I have been watching you,”

“That’s creepy,” Decan said looking to his friend.

“I have seen this man following you as though waiting for an opportunity to strike,” he motioned to the dead man at her feet, “I knew he was an assassin. He was good but I was better, he did not see me coming,” a twisted grin crossed Taeril’s face.

“So you wish us to help you free some of your people?” Varrell asked.

“You wish to make an enemy of my people?” Arlan asked her.

“All magic wielders are the same, your friend here, given the chance would hand me back over in a heartbeat,” Taeril said.

“I do not know you, elf, but I do know Arlan and I trust him,” Varrell replied and the elven man glared at her.

“Will you help me, or not?” he asked.

“We have fought slavers before, we can rescue these people,” she agreed and Taeril looked pleased. Decan and Arlan both relaxed their weapons and Varrell put hers away too.

“I thought you would help me, you are protectors of innocents, after all,” Taeril said and then disappeared once more.

“Wh-“ Varrell ran after where he had walked off into the darkness but he was not there. “What… is that it? We don’t formulate a plan of attack?” she asked into the night but looking at her friends.

“Something tells me our new friend will find you when he needs to,” Decan said.

“Why trust him, Varrell?” Arlan asked.

“He needs our help, innocent lives-“

“Elves are not innocent!” Arlan raged.

“You cannot blame all elves on what happened to your family, Arlan, I am sorry that happened, but it has nothing to do with Taeril, an elf you just met!” she replied.

“She is right, my friend, you cannot darken all elves with the same sin,” Decan added.

“It is down to all elves that darkness was unleashed! If you do this, you do not take me, take Decan and you choose any other, but I will not take part in this,” Arlan said and she sighed.

“Very well,” she replied before they each turned to head for their beds, the hour now very late. Decan back at the inn, Arlan in his small home in the commons and Varrell at her house in the richer parts of the city having been born into a noble family.

                                                                                            ~~

Varrell woke the following day with a pounding head, although she had gone to bed sober after the attempted assassination, she had still consumed a lot of alcohol the previous night. By the height of the sun in the sky she realised she had slept late and groaned as she rolled over. She knew she had to get up now and so she did. Grumbling she strolled down her stairs and searched her kitchen for some food. Varrell consumed plenty of water and ate a hearty breakfast to try an appease her hangover. She realised her dinner last night had mainly consisted of the ale she had guzzled. She thought back to the elf who had approached her so boldly, the magic that elves possessed she knew to be dark but she could help but feel this particular elf’s powers were something else entirely. He said about how the ‘magic wielders’ as he referred to them had imprisoned and even experimented on his people. She did not trust elves for all she had learned of them as she grew up. The elves were hunted and captured and usually collars were slapped around their necks which dampened their magic cutting them off from using it at all. This was law. Any elf entering society had to be collared, but usually you would find that they were. It just occurred to her that Taeril was not wearing one of these collars and they were supposed to be impossible to remove. Elves were dangerous; she knew this and this was an elf with free reign of his magic. She wished the elves had more freedom but she also knew they could not be trusted with their magic. The tragedy of twenty years ago… she could barely think of it and she sighed putting out those horrible events. She began to fear this elf Taeril and not much really scared her other than losing any more loved ones or being unable to protect the innocent. She wondered how Taeril had also escaped a band of witches and warlocks of which he referred to as ‘magic wielders’ which seemed strange because his own kind could also wield magic but she knew that must be a cultural thing. Witches and warlocks were all part of an order called Shield of Innocents. They protected the people from dark forces of magic just as she protected the people from crime and injustice. She felt she was their shield as well and her friends and allies too.

The occasional warlock or witch would withdraw and live their lives independently but often still held loyalty to this order. Arlan was one such warlock as was her witch friend Kessa; although Kessa had never expressed loyalty to them, in fact Varrell remembered Kessa and Arlan having several disputes over the years regarding this. Varrell was wary of Taeril the elf just as her friend Arlan was and just as she imagined Kessa would be, although Kessa was not so vocal about her views on the elven. Varrell was unsure if this was a trap; trusting this elf or if he sincerely needed her help. That was decided. She would go and speak with her friend Kessa before she was approached by this Taeril again. She knew he would come to her again as he had not told her his plans but that was likely down to his distrust of Arlan the magic wielder and she guessed he would find her again under the cover of night. He could not be caught and collared, so he likely skulked in the shadows.

                                                                                          ~~

Varrell had finally managed to dress herself and recover enough to leave her home; her home… far too big for only her. She headed out into the elite markets; goods were more expensive here, but she often shopped in the common market since she had money to spend and the merchants in the commons were more in need of her custom. She headed to the commons now but only passed through them to get further into the despairing parts of this city; the slums. The sick would be pushed back here to dwell, the weak and the extremely poor. She always passed money to street beggars, or buy and bring them good food whenever she could but it was not within her powers to help everyone as much as she wanted to. Kessa resided here and she used her knowledge of remedies to help the sick as much as she could which was what Varrell liked about her. She headed to her small hut now and realised there was a queue of people waiting to be treated and Kessa’s aide appeared first and noted Varrell in the line to see Kessa. Her eyes widened and then she ducked back inside before Kessa stuck her head around the side of the door to look. Her unruly long brown hair hanging loose and her robes fit for the apothecary she was; pockets everywhere and a potion belt at her waist. She had all bounds of ingredients sticking out of her pockets ready for fast reach should she need them.

“Is it urgent?” Kessa called to Varrell.

“No not really but I could come in and lend a hand? I need to speak with you in private, but these people need to be seen to,” she replied and Kessa nodded just once before disappearing inside again. Her aide, Varrell forgets her name, waved her in ahead of the queue and Varrell would help with the potions; it was not a strong skill of hers but Kessa had instructions and ingredients strewn all over her home. As Varrell entered she noticed Arlan was also here, helping with the potions. She met his hazel eyes and his expression went cold. It was a problem with him here if Varrell was to speak of the elven man’s request with Kessa. It was clear Arlan knew why she was here and it was clear it did not sit well with him. Varrell was very fond of Arlan and the last thing she wanted to do was make an enemy of him but when people were suffering she had to help them; even if they were elven. It was bad enough the law was for elves to wear collars preventing them from using their powers, it was quite another to experiment and torture them. Varrel felt a pang inside of her chest as Arlan turned away from her. She did not want to lose him as a friend but there were innocents that needed her.