Lost in the Light Ch. 12

"Sorry," He mumbled. "I thought you were someone else. What do you want?" He wanted to be left alone, but this young girl, who was barely entering womanhood and knew no better, needed something, he should do the gallant thing and assist her. She was either too taken aback by his scowl to respond or wasn't yet sure what to say. But she did come closer until she was close enough to sit next to him, but decided against it.

"I noticed you left not long after the dance," She said. "I thought I had done something to upset you. So I thought I should apologize. I didn't mean to."

"It's not right." Brylen growled. "This isn't right."

"What isn't?" Pebbles asked with the naïveté of youth.

"I hate your people. They're monsters." Brylen said. "I've lost good friends to Zeks." He knew he shouldn't have said that. But the stupid girl had asked.

"I lost my father to an Elth," Pebbles said, irritated and crossed her arms over her chest. "You think you're the only one that's lost someone?" She came to sit down next to him. Brylen bristled at her bravado – he could snap this little waif with a finger. But then her scowl wavered, and he could see she was having trouble keeping herself from laughing.

"What's so damned funny, Zek?" He said, cold as steel. Pebbles jerked as his angry retort, and her smile faded.

"I was raised to be afraid of you, because you were ruthless killers that never took prisoners. The Pale Devils we called you. But now that I see you, you're just a big white bear." she smirked. "I'm not going to be afraid of you anymore." She stood up and left.

"Listen you little...!" He snarled and grabbed her hand before she could leave. Pebbles went rock solid, she slowly turned her head to look at him. Small she may be, but there was cold steel in her eyes that spoke of a little wisdom beyond her years. This little girl had seen death – and she was not afraid of it.

"Coward," she called him. "Attacking a little girl..." There was a condemnation in her voice and eyes. Brylen couldn't finish his sentence.

"A girl like you shouldn't look like that," He said eerily. "You're too damn young. It's creepy."

"I might have had a little brother to play with had I still a father," She sassed him. Brylen's grip on her arm lessened. He slid his hand down until he was holding her hand. His gaze drifted to the ground for a moment.

"I'm..." he started but couldn't quite find the words. "I'm sorry. You're right." he wanted to say more. It wasn't these Zecairins he was truly angry with, and he was starting to understand that.

"Tam says hatred is a weapon with no handle," She said, somewhat put off. She looked at him curiously, uncertain if he was going to turn into a Pale Devil now, or remain Brylen of the Leaf Knights. "It will hurt you as much as your enemies. He says that it is okay to be afraid of the Pale Devils, but don't hate the Elthairins. Do any of us really know what started the hatred?"

Brylen chuckled lightly and let go of her hand.

"I do," He said and moved aside on his log to make room for her. "Come sit, Little Black Cat and I'll tell of the great divide that happened." Her curiosity was immensely piqued with none of the tension of a moment ago, but the original easy-going innocence of a young lady.

"There were three races of elves once," Brylen began, his gruff tone had mellowed somewhat but he was still a stern elven man. Pebbles pulled her legs up to her chest and listened intently. "The forest elves, who lived in places like this. They built no cities but lived as small tribes, always moving across the land as the seasons changed. The mountain elves, who were your ancestors. They built cities on top of the mountains as well as inside them. Their palaces sat atop the highest peaks and rose to meet the stars. The desert elves, my ancestors. We lived far to the south and built sprawling stone castles in lush oases.

"All elves were once part of one nation, with one ruler, and one god, Llysharara, the Great Spirit and her eternal foe Krreez, The Night Hunter. Then, many millennia ago, a great philosopher was born to the mountain elves named Gavakaern. He was a great scholar of logical thinking, mathematics, engineering, and self-reliant fundamentalism. But his accomplishments in science led to one great Blasphemy – he decried the Great Spirit as imaginary, and was condemned by the clergy. His students would not surrender and a great fractionation of our people began, eventually they formed their own society and choose their own leaders. And thus Zecair was born. The desert elves deemed Zecair heretical and declared a holy war on them. That was the First Great War."

Pebbles listened on, entranced. Her eyes were wide with deep interest, but in them he could see her digesting his words carefully. Brylen continued.

"Neither side won, but both suffered greatly, and eventually a truce came to be without any formal treaty. As the years went by, it was discovered that the forest elves had vanished from the trees. The desert elves moved into the forest to search for them, but found only the ruins of the Great War. Their despair was great, and they accused Zecair of destroying their brethren with their machinations of war. Zecair claimed the desert elves had ousted their kin and seized the forest lands in order to move their armies closer. Fighting resumed, and during the skirmishes a great citadel was erected as a memorial to the lost forest elves. But the Zecairins returned with help from other races, they had lied to them and blamed the desert elves for the disappearance of the peaceful forest elves. Elthair was quickly outnumbered and called to their own allies for aid. Thus began the second Great War."

"What really happened to the forest elves?" Pebbles cut in. Brylen was taken aback. To have the tale questioned so blatantly was a bit surprising, and a bit heretical, but Brylen, as well as most of the Leaf Knights here, had already started questioning official doctrine with the changing politics in Elthair.

"If there had been evidence, it had been destroyed by the Second Great War... the worst of them all." Brylen said sadly. "That war was so terrible, many of the allies to both sides perished. We would have killed ourselves had mankind not stepped between us both and forced a peace treaty. That was a thousand years ago."

"Wow," Pebbles said a little shocked and dumbfounded. "Soo..." she mulled the story over in her mind. "Our two people hate each other because my ancestors wanted religious freedom, and your ancestors wouldn't let them be?" Brylen growled in response. Mulled it over in his head. And eventually, begrudgingly agreed it was an adequate, but biased, summation. "and then we started another war because we hated each other so much we jumped to the conclusion the other killed our kin. When it's entirely possible they got sick of us fighting and just left?" Brylen smacked his forehead.

"Ye gods, from the mouth of a child!" he exclaimed. Pebbles burst into laughter and fell backwards off the log. That didn't stop her from rolling around on the grass still laughing. Brylen wondered if she had been into the wine.

"Isn't it silly that we don't know the truth anymore?" She giggled as her laughing fit ended.

"The story's true!" Brylen argued.

"Do you believe everything you're told?" She snickered.

"from the mouth of a child..." he grumbled, but could not suppress his smirk. "Off with you, Imp! Go find that young dark fellow of yours and ask him to dance."

"Fine! I will!" She stuck her tongue out at him. "Farewell Lord Bear!" She danced off giggling.

Valel sat quietly high in a tree branch. He had his swords laid across his lap and his blindfold down over his eyes. He listened to the forest and tried to to find the sounds that belonged too much. He was following Tamain's advice that true stealth was impossible and that all things left a presence. Elthairins had learned magic to augment their sight, and to disappear from sight, but their naturally sensitive ears were overlooked. Valel was focusing on the sounds the wilderness made, and he could hear far in the distance the sounds of the celebration. Every now and then bits of conversation floated to him. It was working, and he was slowly learning to augment his hearing as well, but it was a difficult task. Words on the wind were as fickle as the wind itself, and he could no more easily control that than the words they carried.

A gentle breath blew on his face and he spooked. Before he could react, ivy vines wrapped around his torso and arms, pinning him to the tree. His focus had been so intent on his training that it shocked his senses to be yanked back into the immediate vicinity – much the same effect as when elven Longsight was forced back into the normal range. He found himself fully bound and entangled, and was about to shout for help when his blindfold was unceremoniously stuffed into his mouth to silence him.

He opened his eyes and blinked against the slight moonlight. There before him was the shimmering camouflaged face of someone hanging upside down.

"My, my, what have we here?" Came a sultry woman's voice, one he did not recognize. The shadow shimmered and a Zecairin's face appeared in front of him. She was sleek in appearance, her short silver hair fell straight down and her charcoal leather vest buttoned all the way up to her neck. A black silk undershirt covered her arms to the wrists, and matching charcoal leather leggings covered her legs. Valel relaxed a bit, he didn't recognize her, but by her lack of garish attire she was obviously one of Tamain's. She picked up one of his slim swords, sent the other one flying down to the ground below, and drew the back of the blade down the curve of his ear, caressing down and across his cheek. "There certainly is a lot of noise going on. Wouldn't want to alert anyone else to our very private conversation, now would we?" She flipped the blade over and the sharp edge dug into his cheek slightly.

Valel wasn't sure what game she was playing at, but there would need to be boundaries set after this. He was no one's plaything, and the only reason she wasn't coughing up blood right now was the sake of their new alliance. He nodded agreement, he would play along for now, and at the best opportunity to salvage both his pride and the alliance he would set her straight. She pulled the blindfold from his mouth.

"Soo..." he began. But she dug the blade immediately into his cheek and drew blood. He hissed, his dark eyes turned cold. He was not amused.

"I did not give you permission to make a sound, now did I Elth?" She said sweetly. He shook his head NO. "My, you are a smart one. I am so tired of stupid males. Stinking stupid males... But you, you smell nice." She leaned in next to his cheek and breathed in his scent, then exhaled hotly against the cut she had just made before licking the small trickle of blood clean.

"You know how to follow orders, don't you Elth?" She leaned back. "Are you an obedient soldier?" He nodded Yes. "I am going to ask some very simple questions. You are going to answer them. If I like your answers, I'll make this more enjoyable for you." She leaned closer and licked his lips sensually. "However, if I think you're playing games, I'll make this more enjoyable for me." Her wild yellow eyes dilated excitedly at the thought of some unknown scenarios playing out in her mind. To accent her point, she poked the tip of the blade into his thigh. It dug rather deep, and he grunted out the pain quietly as blood started to well up from the wound. She had yet to cut him anywhere too dangerous, but this would bleed badly if it wasn't bandaged soon. "I like a strong man that doesn't complain." She smiled. She placed a hand to the tree trunk, the ivy receded and concentrated on his wrists. They pulled his arms tightly behind his back and around the trunk. Valel tried not to make a sound at the uncomfortable twisting of his arms, but managed a grunt. The Zecairin woman turned herself around, and perched herself on the branch before him. Her soft silver hair didn't seem to obey gravity however, and remained standing up in the air.

"Now then," she smiled and started undoing the buttons of his vest. When she reached the bottom and it parted, she slid her hands inside his trousers, found his cock and gave his balls a painful squeeze. Valel's dark glare didn't betray his discomfort, and he was starting to question these circumstances. "It's nice to see our two peoples getting along so well. But surely you have to question this? Did you really think this would work?" she squeezed his balls painfully.

"For the short future," he hissed through his teeth. "But long term would be problematic." She eased up the pressure.

"From now on, you will end your answers with 'My Mistress'." She said with a sneer and squeezed his balls again. He groaned.

"Yes, My Mistress." he hissed out.

"Very good," She cooed and eased up her pressure. One hand went to his cock and pulled it free of his clothing, caressing the soft underside. Despite his feelings, it was starting to grow hard from her touch. "See? You are obedient." she purred at him and bit the tip of his ear painfully."What does your side hope to get from this?" She whispered into his ear, her fingernails dug into his scrotum and he winced in pain. Something wasn't right here.

"Our Queen needs help assaulting a human outpost, My Mistress." He replied. That much should have been obvious. Had she not heard? Or did she not believe them? "These humans are highly skilled and something mysterious is going on within their compound. We could take them, but thought we might send someone else just in case. My Mistress." It was a half lie, but it played to the mistrusting opinion that the Elthairins were not being truthful. His captor took a firm hold of cock and started to squeeze it as she stroked it. His flesh responded naturally and soon was straining against her fingers.

"Tell me about this outpost," She whispered excitedly. She licked her lips, and bit his chest. Presumably out of lust, but Valel had to struggle not to call out in pain as she drew blood.

"We discovered they've been working demonic magic," Valel groaned through the pain. "We want to put a stop to it. My Mistress." His mistress let go of his balls, unfastened a leather flap at her crotch and proceeded to straddle his lap, aiming his hard member for the opening in her black leather pants. He felt the warm wet sensation of her cunt envelope his cock greedily. It squeezed his length tightly as she slid down on top of him, just as a slow gasp escaped her lips. It took her a moment to adjust to his size, and she quivered periodically as she tried to stabilize her balancing on the branch with him. Once she had him where she wanted him, her blade went to his neck.

"Go on slave," She instructed him. "Tell me why? Why bother these filthy humans? What's in it for you?"

"They have a Zek among them. We don't want an alliance between them. My Mistress." he groaned as she started to buck her hips forward and back, sliding his girth in and out of her hungry wet hole.

"So these Zeks with you, they're just fodder for the invasion?" She growled, biting her lower lip. Her eyes never left him, and gave him that superior glare of a cat playing with a mouse before it ate it. The way she said it sent a shiver of worry and suspicion down his spine. "What do you plan to do after that? Who is this queen you serve, what does she plan to do?" The pace of her hips and the heaviness of her panting breaths were growing along with her excitement at this news.

"Her name is Queen Riyarra, My Mistress." He grunted, trying to fight back the natural reactions his body was having. Her blade suddenly flipped over in her palm, and she angled it right above his heart, poised to strike, but twisted it painfully. She stopped moving in his lap.

"Who?" She said with a snarl, amidst panting breath. The name he gave had somehow sparked some measure of recognition.

Valel caught movement behind her. A flurry of long blond hair danced in a flash, and her sword arm had been wrenched back behind her painfully.

"Hello Cat!" Riyarra hissed into her ear. "This one is mine, Bitch!" She growled and yanked them both off the tree branch. They plummeted to the ground far below, snapping branches along the way, and landed with a thud. The two elven women struggled and rolled across the ground, grunting and exchanging fist blows, fighting for control of the short sword. Riyarra came up on top, sitting astride the Zecairin woman's shoulders with blade in hand, aiming it straight for those frantic yellow eyes.

"Mercy!" The Cat wailed. Riyarra paused from delivering the killing blow, but made sure her prey understood it was momentary.

"How many?!" she screeched at the dark skinned woman. "how many are with you?!"

"I'm alone!" she pleaded fearfully. "I was deposed! They'll kill me if I go back without some trophy."

"How far?!" Riyarra screamed murderously, and with a whip of the blade cut a gash in the woman's cheek before returning it to its poised position. The ferocity of her mood had not diminished from gaining the upper hand.

"Day and a half northwest!" she blurted out. Riyarra sat back a moment and digested her words. Her mind's eye was quickly drawing a map in her mind and placing this group's approximate location relative to hers. She felt a subtle shift under her and before The Cat could do whatever she was about to do, Riyarra slammed the pommel of her sword into the woman's temple, knocking her out cold. The Cat went limp, her hands were still splayed to her sides in submission. Whatever it had been, Riyarra wasn't taking chances.

Slowly she stood, still panting for breath. Her gaze rapidly moving from rock to bush to dirt to tree as her brain frantically assessed the complication of being discovered, and half expecting some other dark shape to jump out at her from the shadows. Eventually she had come to the best possible conclusion – no one attacked, she knew where The Cat's patrol was and they were too far away, The Cat was also their prisoner and would soon be a gift for Tamain's group, and their alliance was still safe. She looked up to the trees and her captured knight, and quickly leapt up the branches to him.

Valel looked miserable. His exposure aside, it was his wounded pride as a knight that was obvious. He wouldn't look at her, his gaze always turned away when she tried to meet it. She embedded the sword into the side of the tree trunk above him.

"Valel, are you hurt?" She said softly and touched a hand to his cut cheek. He scowled, but still wouldn't look at her. Even so, she mended the wound on his leg with her magic.

"Were I any other knight, would you be so lenient?" He scolded her. "I have shamed myself, my comrades, and endangered everyone here. I should be banished." She grabbed both of his cheeks, made him look at her and stared sternly into his eyes. Those fierce emerald gems sized him up as a man without her having to say a word.

"It is because of this honor you have, that I am so lenient." She stated sternly. "I know you would grow stronger from this." her words shamed him even more, and he felt like a child for his outburst. His ears drooped.

"I am sorry, My Queen," He said formally. Riyarra trembled. Her eyes glazed over and a barely controlled whimper of anger escaped her heavy lips.

Riyarra slapped him. The look of hurt of her face broke him even more.

"Riyarra," he corrected himself meekly, embarrassed yet again.

She kissed him. Deeply. Passionately. Lovingly.

Shocked beyond belief, his mind reeled, and he found himself naturally responding by kissing her back. When she broke it off, she placed her forehead against his and held his head with both hands.

"Don't you ever run away from me," She sobbed angrily. "Not you."