Reaver’s Song

It was dark when, to my absolute shock, my eyes flickered open. The moon was partially obscured behind a thin layer of dark clouds and a brisk, cool wind blew down from jagged mountain peaks to the east. I lay on an uncomfortable grass mat, a jagged rock stabbing into the small of my back painfully. I moved my limbs gingerly to test whether they were all still in working order and found they were. With a grunt I pushed myself to a sitting position and looked around.

                I wasn’t in the warrens anymore, that much was certain. A wide, sparse alpine plateau stretched from the foot of the mountains to the east to what seemed to be a sheer drop on the south, west and north. Several stands of hardy evergreen trees clung to the rocky soil tenaciously, interspersed with patches of spiky underbrush. Otherwise, the area was wholly unremarkable.

                “I’m so, so good,” a voice behind me purred. I turned at the sudden sound to find the blonde vampire princess. She sat down gracefully and sighed, sounding weary.

“Hello,” I croaked, my voice hoarse and scratchy. She handed me a water skin which I took and drank from gratefully.

“You should be dead, you know,” Sascha said, folding her legs under herself and leaning forward with a groan. “You have the tenacity of a river rat.”

“I thought I was dead,” I admitted, the water feeling like ambrosia to my parched throat. “What happened?”

“My father happened,” Sascha muttered, picking up a small rock and throwing it absently. I watched the stone fly a short distance, crack against another stone before rolling to a stop. “The royal guard took the warrens.”

“So, that demon thing wasn’t lying about that,” I murmured, shuddering slightly at the memory of the bulbous head and glistening, crooked fangs.

“Well, I don’t know what it said, but the warrens are gone,” Sascha replied quietly.

“How bad is it?” I was afraid to ask, honestly.

“I- “Sascha stopped herself and shook her head. “I don’t have words. You should see for yourself. Carrisyn was wanting to talk to you anyway.”

“Where is she?” I asked, more relieved than I should be she was alive.

“She calls it the command forum,” Sascha rolled her eyes dismissively. “It’s just a campfire about half a kilometer that way.” The princess gestured to the north.

“Are you coming?” I climbed to my feet gingerly, my muscles ached, and it felt like I’d passed through a combine and somehow made it to the other side alive.

“A healer’s work is never done,” Sascha shook her head. “Especially at a time like this. I’ll make my way there later.”

“Thank you,” I bowed slightly in gratitude.

“Your welcome,” the princess replied, glancing up at me, a grin spreading across her face. “Remember my generosity the next time I need some pink, puffy nipple healing.” I shook my head and walked away.

“Find your own nipples,” I chuckled.

“I have my own nipples. I need yours,” Sascha was incorrigible at even the worst time.

My amusement quickly died as I stared at the land around me. It had been bad in the warrens. The combat was fierce and savage. Even as focused as I was on my own fights, I knew it was bad. I had no idea the extent of it, though. I stared around in shock. Probably a hundred other mats beside the one I had been laying on and some larger tents to the south stretched out around me. Each mat had one or more elves lying on them with injuries of varying severity, many of them children. Tears stung my eyes as my horror mounted.

I saw the flickering firelight dancing in the brisk wind the direction Sascha had indicated, but there weren’t nearly enough mats for everyone in the warrens between me and the fire. There had to have been thousands of elves in the winding corridors and halls but there couldn’t have been more than 200 lying on the mats. There were probably many more unhurt, I reasoned.

“Where are the rest?” I asked quietly, glancing back at the princess. She pointed to the southwest where a coil of smoke drifted skyward, black against the violet sky, subtle but easily discernible to my keen eyes. “What does that mean? What are you saying?”

“They’re being burned,” Sascha looked up, her blue and crimson eyes haunted. “The dead and the living both.” I stared at her for a long moment, her words making no sense. That isn’t happening. That couldn’t be happening. No one would do that. “My father is using the warrens as an example of what happens when someone deals with demons.”

“But he was the one who put those…those things among the elves!” I protested uselessly. Sascha grinned bitterly.

“And?” It was a question with no answer. It was the way of things. The powerful used the powerless until they no longer suited their needs. Then they were tossed aside for new toys. The elves had proven troublesome and were no longer needed so of course they were ploughed into the ground.

“How many made it?”

“Do you really want to know?” Sascha looked up at me. No. I truly didn’t. My mind couldn’t wrap itself around the horror show unfolding around me.

“Yes,” I finally answered.

“245,” Sascha whispered. How many elves had been in the warrens? Thousands? More? I had no idea. I felt sick. I turned away from Sascha and put my hands on my knees to stay upright. All of those elves were dead. Where was Yeobo when you really needed him to make you feel good? I glanced at the rising wisp of smoke stark against the silvery moon.

I stumbled away from Sascha without a word, my brain whirling in horror. Had this happened because of me? Had I brought this on the elves? If I hadn’t stupidly agreed to do that stupid task of giving that letter to the Ri would the elves still be alive? What if I’d seen through the Ri’s disguise? What if I’d told Lyrei to shove it when she wanted to anoint someone wholly insignificant and unqualified royalty? Would the elves still be bustling through their narrow halls on their daily tasks? Would they be laughing and enjoying their time with their families if I’d just zigged rather than zagged?

I wandered the barren plateau, the cold wind whipping my long white hair. Row upon row the injured lay on mats, some conscious and moaning in pain, some staring blankly into the darkness as the shock and horror of what had happened weighed down on them like an anvil in those old American cartoons while still others lay still and silent, too injured, or weak to move. Tears slipped down my cheeks as I stared dumbly around me as I walked. What had I done?

I stopped as I came upon a small knot of elves blocking my path. I stared at the soot-streaked faces and my breath caught in my throat. I should have expected a reckoning, I supposed. I had come in and been declared some sort of royal savior. A person who was going to restore the elves to their former glory. Instead, I had doomed them all.

“Your majesty,” A young girl stepped forward, her clothes were tattered and partially burnt, her left arm hung limp at her side and a bandage was wrapped tightly around one of her thighs and another around her head. She had the haunted look of someone who had seen too much to fully grasp. I sighed quietly to myself. What did I do? Let them beat me up like I used to do with Moon when I did something to make her mad? Moon had rarely taken me up on the offer, only once had she hit my arm which sent her into fresh fits of hysteria thinking she’d hurt me. I had no idea what to do or say to make any of this even palatable, let alone ok. They studied me silently for a long moment.

Suddenly the girl dropped slowly, agonizingly to her knees, bowing her head. The others behind her quickly followed suit until the group of elves knelt before me, their heads bowed in the darkness. What was this? What was going on? I glanced around me in awe and mounting horror to find the other elves on the mats bowing their heads as well.

“Thank you, your majesty,” The girl said.

“Uh,” I replied, dumbstruck. You didn’t thank the instrument of your demise. You didn’t show gratitude to the wrecking ball destroying your home with you in it. “Pl-Please don’t do that!” I moved forward, tears streaming down my face. Please, I thought, please don’t thank me. My heart can’t take that. I helped her to her feet and held her at arm’s length. She stared at me with glittering green eyes, her face locked in a look of awe.

“Your majesty?” She asked in confusion.

“I destroyed your home!” I protested. “I ruined everything! Please don’t thank me!” What was wrong with these people?

“My parents always said that the royal family was our home. You are us and we are you. A place doesn’t matter. We have and always will be your subjects. You came back from the dead to lead us. We are home in your care, your majesty.” The others nodded in agreement. “We know you will save us.

I’m nothing but a gross otaku history teacher, I thought miserably. Even Ashvallen was nothing more than street trash. A desperate, miserable outcast trying to scratch out another day’s existence in the cruelty surrounding her. Neither of us were anything remotely resembling royalty. I stared into the girl’s eyes and swallowed hard. There was hope in her green orbs. A burning ember still alive even in the shadow of the smoke belching from her former home. I, as strange as it sounded, had lit that ember and it was up to me to nurture it.

“What’s your name?” I asked quietly.

“Alyndra, your majesty,” she answered.

“Please, call me Ashvallen,” it was strange how seamlessly I’d managed to slip into the role. If I stayed here in this world for too long what would happen to me, I wondered. Would I gradually lose Minji and become Ashvallen? Would I be some weird Frankenstein caricature of both? Minjvallen?

“I…O-Ok. Ashvallen,” the girl smiled nervously, as if expecting some divine punishment.

“I will do my best for all of us, ok, Alyndra?” I met her eyes and held their gaze. After a moment her lips curled in a smile, and she nodded emphatically. I hugged her tight, my tears dripping onto the tattered jerkin covering her shoulders. I knew what I had to do.

I was so relieved to see a bandaged Lyrei sitting beside several of her lieutenants when I finally reached the flickering fire I nearly cried again. Honestly, though, I wasn’t sure how many tears I had left at this point. As I made my way through the wounded each had bowed or reached out to touch my hand or leg reverently.

“Your majesty!” Lyrei exclaimed gratefully, getting to her feet, and bowing.

“Ah,” Carrisyn actually smiled when she saw me. “Good to see you alive and on your feet.”

“I’ve decided,” I said, staring into Carrisyn’s eyes, my voice clear with resolve. “I’m not going back.”