Lost in the Light Ch. 13

"Hold," He said and brought his spear up before Mero. Conner had his hand on the curved sword strapped to his back but didn't pull it out... until he saw the fleshy tendril on the ground behind Mero and how it seemed to disappear behind him. He pulled his scimitar with a sharp ring of steel.

"How very astute," Mero said with a voice not his own. He started to float up into the air, but it was the tendril attached to the back of his neck that was lifting him off the ground. "This one was not so wise. All too easy in fact." The inhumane voice said with a hint of mirth. Mero's body started to convulse sporadically. His legs started to shrivel and shrink until they were just skin over bone. Then the bones disappeared with a disgusting crunched, and that was when the two men saw something -inside- Mero moving around devouring his insides. Connor looked to be sick, but Wolfe took a deep calming breath and took two quick glances to his left and right. Tendrils were encircling them.

"I think we just failed." Wolfe snorted.

"Why do you say that?" The monster inside Mero mused, hurt. "I only require two, but I may choose to take three." One of Mero's arms shriveled up, and was sucked up inside his torso.

"Fuck you and your 'two', Monster!" Conner shouted and hacked for the first pink fleshy tendril he could reach. It wiggled out of the way with unnatural speed and his blade hit stone floor. He turned around angrily ready to strike something, and found his opponent to be what remained of Mero - a torso, head, and one good arm with a dagger in its hand. The creature used Mero's remains like a puppet and struck at Conner. The man defended himself and the two did battle, clashing steel against steel. Despite its grotesque nature, the monster was using Mero's abilities to its fullest. She even scored a few good hits on Conner's limbs. Connor scored his own mortal wounds, but his opponent was already dead, and the blows did not avail him.

Against a dead foe, Connor was no match, and in a moment of fatigue from the intense fighting, the Monster sliced open his throat. Yet before he could cover it, it had seized the opportunity of mortal panic and shoved an agile tendril into the wound. The unholy sounds it made as it devoured him from the inside made Wolfe's stomach turn. Wolfe collapsed to the stone and involuntarily emptied his gut, but having skipped breakfast there was nothing but stomach juice on the floor.

The monster hovered Mero's remains directly above him. He didn't look up at first. He didn't want to see it coming, but when it didn't, he braved a look. One of Mero's eyeballs popped out from an escaping tendril and seemed to look at him.

"I see you," The Creature said.

"Do you now?" Wolfe said with a bit a growing hysteria at the absurdity of his situation. He sat down, crossed his legs, laid his spear against his neck, and readied his grip to take his own head off.

"I like the Wolfe cock." It said in the Mischievous' voice.

Wolfe gritted his teeth angrily. His face betrayed his resolve, and he broke into sad, half mad sobs.

"Don't you want my power Wolfe?" It said dispirited.

"To what end?" Wolfe snarled. "To change the leash around my neck from one crazy old man to something I cannot even begin describe?"

"For her?" The creature said in The Mischievous' voice. It had finished devouring the rest of Mero's body from within. Just his head remained attached to the end of a swaying tentacle. "Become strong for her? Make her free! Run far away! Live happy! Have many babies." it said sweetly. "Take my power."

"Fuck you." He laughed and yanked down hard on the spear. The butt slipped, and instead of taking his head clean off, it sliced through his throat, and he was alive long enough to feel his blood gush from the wound. He was still alive when a tentacle snaked inside and began to work its way down his throat and into his body.

Mercifully, that was the last thing he felt.

*****

Tamain sat leaning against the remains of a fallen tree trunk in silent reflection. The way he sat with his legs splayed out, his arms folded over his chest and his chin tucked into the high collar of his dark leather vest made it seem that he was napping. So he was left alone. He had been one of the few that had stayed up all night. Corella hadn't bothered him all morning, and Lysia took her cue from her mentor in the ways of the Discarded and also left her dark lover to his thoughts.

The Zecairins broke their breakfast with roasted rodent and some wild red berries Pemmi had found. Lysia sat with them, despite being reunited with her people - she was their one Elthairin member. Her pale complexion, short stature and endowed build was out of place amid the tall, dark, and lithe shadow elves. Her former comrades, the fair skinned Elthairin elves, had yet to stir from their tents in the trees. The celebration had gone on until the late hours of the morning, until the wine was all gone and sleep could no longer be put off. Lysia expected it would still be many hours still until the Elthairins stirred. Unless they were roused early by their Captain.

"Rollis?" Tamain finally said out loud.

"Aye," The archer said in that naturally grating voice of his as he stood. Having finished his portion of the catch he had been restringing his bow with a new Elthairin made line.

"A Blooded Mistress was captured last night and tied to a tree. You will find her in that direction." Tamain pointed. Rollis walked a few paces to orientate himself to that direction. "Take care of her."

"Aye," Rollis grunted and walked off. He knew what was required.

"Whether our new allies approve or not, she and any other of our kin that we encounter are our responsibility, not theirs. The Queen and I need to discuss rules, but she feels this as well as she could have killed this one. No matter what comes hereafter, we will not let them murder more of us. Blooded or not, we capture our kin first unless they give us no other option." His soldiers acknowledged his order with a nod and a smile. Lysia suddenly realized that these Discarded did not often show their true feelings. Last night they smiled, laughed, danced and told stories, but underneath the friendliness was a blade prepared to swing. Of course there would be some problems with openly allying themselves with the Leaf Knights. And Tamain had just laid one such problem to rest.

Someone approached.

Tamain struggled to his feet. Lysia could tell he was tired. He hadn't slept. Not since he had slain the demon spawn had Tamain even tried to sleep. And Lysia didn't know how to help. She wanted to. There wasn't much else she could do, she wasn't a skilled combatant, or a tracker, or even a magic user despite Corella's patient training.

"Tamain," Riyarra called out.

"Here," Tamain said and composed himself. Riyarra appeared from around a tree, pushing a branch out of the way so she could pass. She was alone, dressed in uniform, and armed.

"Walk with me?" She asked. Her tone was polite, but still cold as steel. Lysia suddenly wanted to hide from her sight. Riyarra gave the girl a casual look, a soft smile, and upon seeing her uneasiness, a friendly wink. "Can you call Eola to join us?"

"Eola..." Tamain said to the wind and a soft breeze suddenly picked up and carried his words away. Riyarra nodded and wandered off, Tamain followed. His eyesight was getting better, but... there was something else off with him this morning. Lysia's doubts and self consciousness were eating her up inside. She had changed sides for him, but ever since that horrible day when they found the Demon Spawn he had grown distant. It was making her miserable. Had he used her to set up this meeting and now he was done with her? Once they were out of sight, she sighed, slumped her head in her hand, and wrote random letters in the dirt with her dagger. For a former bookkeeper, it was something to keep her mind off things.

"The humans of this Monastery are masters of combat. Your people would be at a disadvantage engaging them." Riyarra said. She pulled her cloak around her shoulders and hid herself underneath it. It wasn't the morning chill air she was guarding against, it was her own uncertainty. Tamain could read that much from her.

"Do you still see violence as the only option?" He replied.

"Only the most likely," She replied in kind. His intelligence was... pleasant. He knew how to dance around the barbs of an issue without being obviously sycophantic or argumentative. He didn't attack with his disagreements, as Iala and Brylen did. "The spend their days training for a war during a time of uneasy peace between the three kingdoms. Their dealings with people outside their fortress are few. Such a place would make sense if they sent their soldiers off once they graduated - as if they were an academy for combat - but they don't. The trail of Demon's Blood leads to them, but that could be just a rumor. And..." She had another point but couldn't find the words. Tamain knew what it was.

"Eola's demon spawn?" He said. Connecting her request to the topic. "It was sired by a human she found half dead in the woods. He was traveling to this place." Riyarra nodded. She walked a few more steps, and then suddenly froze. Tamain saw it in her step, stopped in his tracks, and listened for the disturbance that spooked this Elthairin Knight but heard nothing that came from around them. She turned to face him. There was an uncertain emotion in her posture he could not yet identify due to his blurry eyesight, but he could hear her breath grow heavy.

"What was his name?" She finally asked. Her voice was trying to mask the conflicting emotions that got the better of her as they were beaten down by her own reason. Tamain heard a little bit of fear, relief, panic, elation, longing, worry, anger, disbelief... and too many others to identify. She had a connection to this place she hadn't spoken of yet, and Tamain suspected that this human of Eola's might be an unlikely thread that bound them together.

"She did not tell me." He said. But no sooner had he said the words, than he heard the soft flap of wings and the tall graceful harpai walked from around a tree to join them. She allowed him a good look - - before folding them around her body. Riyarra turned, composed herself with a breath, and flipped her hair back behind her head.

"Eola, what was the name of the man you laid with? The one that sired the demon spawn?" She almost demanded. Her tone caught the Harpai off guard. The bird woman paused uncertainly and looked to Tamain for answers. He couldn't read her expression to help. He nodded to say 'It's okay' silently, but she didn't seem to relax. Eola took a hesitant step back and considered her options. She didn't know why this man's name was important, but the Elthairin Queen's countenance told her she would take it from her lips by force if she had to.

"You have my support, my lady," Tamain said. "Please tell her."

"I am not so feeble to require the protection of you," Eola almost snapped at him. "I have outlived more Elthairin Queens and Kings than you could remember." Riyarra reached up to her own ear and gave it a painful tweak to which elicited a groan of aggravation.

"I'm, sorry. Eola. That was rude to demand it." Riyarra said with a sigh, after she collected herself and beat back the torrent of emotions. "It is very important that I hear his name. I may have met this man before. I apologize if I sounded like I was commanding you. I am asking." her change in posture worked instantly. Tamain was also surprised to hear such a candid apology.

"He called himself Liam." Eola said.

The name hit her hard in the chest. She collapsed to her knees and fell forward. Her heart began to pound out of her chest and her breath grew more and more labored. "He lives." She almost cried. Eola looked uncertainly to Tamain. He could, in her obvious body language, see then the mother's instinct to want to console a panic stricken child, but she was still unable to approach a light elf easily. Riyarra's reaction confused them both. It was unsettling to see the Queen of Elthair fall apart with just the mention of a name.

"Is he the man that freed you from Zecair?" Tamain asked gingerly.

"The same." Riyarra managed to get out. One hand clutched her cloak above her heart and the other clawed up deep handfuls of dirt and leaves as she wrestled back this panic attack. Tamain knelt and placed a hand on her trembling back. Riyarra jerked away and glared at him. At this close of a distance he could read her face finally and he could see the torrent of a reverie - she was reliving it all again and all at once. He cautiously moved back, such a powerful experience could drag her back there and she may forget where she was now. Such was the problem way with powerful elven memories.
"I will speak of this to no one. How may I help?" he said in earnest. It took her a moment to acknowledge him, but she ignored him and turned to look at Eola as if to say something, but it caught in her throat with a whimper. The ancient woman could see what was in elf girl's heart. Eola gasped.

"It could have been her." Eola explained and approached Riyarra calmly to reassure her. "She might have sired that abomination first." she knelt and placed a hand on the elf's cheek. Riyarra nodded violently in agreement. Their eyes met in a womanly understanding. Despite being absolutely terrified, Riyarra was winning the inner battle of shock and started to regain herself. This man, Liam, was now more of a monster to her than she had ever known him to be.

Tamain saw the thread that connected them together now, and silently his heart sank. The Elthairin Queen would be all the more forceful in approaching the humans now.

****

"Father?" Valel asked as he approached the cleric Twenyl who was breaking down his tent into its parts.

"Hmm?" The old elf said absentmindedly and he continued unhook the cloth from the support sticks.

"There is a delicate matter I would like to ask you," He whispered and glanced over his shoulder behind him. "Mother is not around is she?"

"Oh, no." Twenyl mused and continued rolling up the loosened tent sides.

"Have..." Valel started to ask. "Lady elves... always had... wings?" he finally got out. Twenyl started to chuckled to himself at some hidden joke.

"Only royal ones," he said slyly. "And only when they mature into Queens. The wings are the manifestation of their birthright."

"Ah," Valel said, realizing he had just unwittingly confessed his indiscretion. Then in a moment of self-sacrificing bravery he blurted out. "We have joined."

That, Twenyl was not expecting. A curious peek, maybe. A passionate encounter, his mother only hoped.

"Oh, my," He said sadly. His hands stopped and he looked up to his son with a look of pride but also worry. He put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Did you see her pain? Her past?"

"As well as her joy, and her hope." He nodded. "I was... uncertain, as to why she choose me. She is beautiful, honorable, compassionate, and intelligent. All this I could see before, but after... it runs so much deeper."

"Sex is but a joining of the flesh. A moment of bliss and passion. Joining of the minds, and souls can be a much richer experience, but not without a cost. I am happy for you, but you two could not have picked a worse time." Valel understood his concern, and nodded his understanding. It was against tradition, and certain royal procedures...

"I felt that she needed an anchor to this world, someone to keep her here in spite of what is to come." Valel said. Twenyl considered his son's words. There was some wisdom to it. Any elf that had witnessed the worst hell of this world so early in their life would remember it through their longest days, and would be eager to leave this world all the sooner. Such a poison was hard to cure. Even if it caused them both pain in the end should they grow incompatible, Valel's strength would help cure that poison now. It made a certain amount of sense. But it would hurt Valel in the end. That was what Twenyl mourned.

"I should also mention, that there are others that had hoped for that honor once we returned to Elthair. I would be discrete about your love." Twenyl resumed breaking down his tent. Valel assisted him with the hanging ropes.

"Father, Elthair is lost to us." he said under his breath. "I see it. She sees it." He added cautiously.

"I know, my son. But that false hope is what gives many of us peace at night." The heavy burden they both now shared with such honest feelings out in the open called for the remainder of their endeavor be completed in reflective silence.

"Try to wait on telling your mother. See if she can figure it out on her own." Twenyl said at last with a hint of mischief.

"Aye, that is a battle I wish not to face."

"Oh? She speaks of the many fights of words you have been picking with her lately. Wishing to retire her already?" Valel snorted smugly.

"In a certain perspective, I have already become her commander."

Twenyl let out a loud, hearty guffaw that jolted his son and made many heads poke out from between the tree branches to wonder what happened.

****

"You don't need to do this, I have value." Cat pleaded once more. "I told you, take me north and my commander will pay my ransom."
Rollis prodded her in the back again with his short sword and growled. She turned left - the side of her back he had just prodded. It was how he navigated the blindfolded woman around the treacherous wilderness. It had been a quiet morning for the most part. She played along and did as she was told. But as the hours went by she started to talk, and question, and beg. Normally the noise she made would be an inconvenience, but this time it wasn't his problem. It was hers.
"Keep talkin'." he muttered. "Attract more attention to yourself." He advised her. "I'm not the one with my hands tied behind my back and blindfolded." Reminding her of that shut her up. But not this time.

"I could pay for my own ransom," She alluded. "You sound like you haven't had it good in a long time." He grabbed her by the neck. The Cat stopped.

She tried to calm her breath, part of her expected a knife in the ribs, part of her expected a blow to the side of her head, and a part of her...yes! expected hands to roam over her womanly features which was exactly what Rollis was doing as he caressed her leather-clad ass.

He moved to her front and unbuttoned her leather shirt. Bit by bit it came apart, and he slid it down her shoulders exposing her firm athletic breasts to the open air. He cupped one, then the other in his palm and squeezed it painfully.

"I work better with my hands free." She cooed at him. Rollis leaned in and breathed hotly into her ear.

"Sweetling, you don't have anything I want." he growled with a bit a malicious humor. "Except maybe those leathers." he cut her hands free of their bindings. "Take it off. All of it. Touch the blindfold and I cut off an ear. Which I know firsthand hurts... a lot. "

The Cat did as instructed. Slowly the jacket came off. Followed by the boots, and then her leather leggings. The Cat stood naked and blindfolded, her breath heavy in the air.

"I could change your mind." She tried to entice him.

"Tsk," Rollis rolled his eyes and picked up her clothes. "Even now that I've seen you bare, you still don't have anything I want."
"You could pretend I'm someone else..." She tried again. Rollis didn't answer.

At first she thought he was considering it, but then she didn't even hear him moving. He had promised to cut off an ear if she touched the blindfold, but now she dared it and it came off with a fury.

He was gone.

She was alone in the woods and naked. The Cat looked around her surroundings, and recognized nothing. She was lost.