Reaver’s Song

“With all due respect,” I cocked an eyebrow at the ancient creature sitting on his ratty throne in front of me. “I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.” Yes! I thought. Tactfully handled! After all, I reasoned, I did say the ‘with all due respect’ part.

“That is peculiar,” he tapped his chin thoughtfully with one long, bony finger. “I figured the countess or, should I say, former countess, would have told you. Ah, well, it’s no concern of mine.”

“What do you mean ‘former countess’?” I scowled. They say the mind was the first thing to go. But, on the plus side, I doubt you’d notice. This guy plainly hadn’t as his thoughts were obviously somewhere else at the moment.

“There are those among us,” he continued, completely ignoring what I’d asked, “who would welcome the return of the royal family. A return to our roots, as they would say.” Several of the elves behind him scowled. He’d obviously been talking about them. Haha! I laughed to myself. Publicly called out by King Tut’s older brother. That had to hurt. “But we have no need for you. Your grandmother and great grandmother brought ruin to us all and your mother was less than nothing. They set us on this path which led only to living in this mountain like animals. They made us beggars, pleading for the scraps discarded from the humans’ table.

“I have led us in good faith for 90 years, sacrificing everything to bring us back from the edge of the abyss. Granting us what dignity and pride we now have through my tireless work, dedication and sacrifice,” the old elf continued on. Someone was very full of themselves, I thought with a sigh. Not to mention he just insulted my mom. Well, not my mom, but Ashvallen’s.

“We do not need your blood. And we do not need the countess’ money,” the Ri gestured to Othorion. “Take it to the dungeon until the agent comes to dispose of it.” I had a moment, a split second, where I had to decide what course to take.

I couldn’t take all of them. The six guards who had appeared behind Othorion alone would be hard to take, let alone the thousands of elves in the stands. I could go down with a fight. Take out as many of them as possible. I could feel Ashvallen’s body thrumming with energy at the possibility of a fight but chose, instead, to allow the Elves to shackle my hands behind my back. This whole world was like a low-rent BDSM manga, I mused as the cold iron closed around my wrists. Why the hell was everyone always trying to chain someone else up? My gaze fell on the ancient walking corpse smirking at me and I scowled, my blood boiling in anger. Now was the time, I thought. This is when I devastate him with a stunningly biting remark.

“You’re a jerk,” I managed as Othorion and the guards dragged me away from the Ri. Wait! No! I meant you’re a dried-up elf prune some Jurassic mouse shit out! Goddammit! I sagged in defeat. I’d folded again like Origami in a pinch.   

It was painfully obvious at this point Carrisyn had vastly misjudged whatever deal she’d hoped to strike with the desiccated husk who pretended to be a ruler. Of course, it would be me that paid the price. Why wouldn’t it be? I doubted she could be bothered to drag herself away from her mistress of the universe plans long enough to rescue me. Even if she had finally acknowledged my existence, it didn’t mean she cared about me. She was probably sitting in her drawing room sipping thousand-year-old wine and chuckling politely about how the stupid half elf got herself thrown into a cage again.

“Yes,” she would sigh, “the foolish rodent got herself caught again. Ohoho! Put another solid gold bar on the fire, it grows cold! Mirielle! Go potty for me! Ohoho!”

So, with little else to do I sat on the small wooden bench in my little 2 meter by 2-meter cell and decided morosely that, as far as things went, this vacation sucked. I’d never had very good vacations. Some of my colleagues had flown to Hawaii or Okinawa or the Philippines or had gone kayaking or to a glorious vacation on Jeju. Not me. I’d always gone to comicons or been reluctantly forced to visit my family back home in Goesan.

While the comicons were always worth it. The amount of money I spent while there had made it so ramen and water were the rule of thumb for two months afterward and I wasn’t sure a vacation nearly bankrupting you could be considered a good one. My trips to Goesan…well, not many people willingly went back to Goesan once they’d escaped the area’s event horizon. Besides, listening to my mother go on about the price of vegetables or deal with my father sitting on the front porch trying to fart louder than the cicadas could call or listen to my crazy uncle try to tell me how everyone in Seoul were being systematically replaced with swan people wasn’t exactly high on my things to do list. Still, this vacation was the worst one ever.

I’d been beaten, tortured, nearly sexually assaulted by a barely upright primate twice, killed said upright primate, stabbed myself in the leg with a butter knife, been insulted by literally 90% of the people I’d met, seen more of a torture room and now dungeon than I ever wanted to and, of course, been killed at least once. I didn’t care how much of a masochist you were, this counted as a shit poor vacation in anyone’s book. Not to mention I had to be quickly running out of vacation time back in my own world.

Was my body even in my other world? Was it stuck in some celestial waiting room watching gardening shows in an endless loop with other soulless husks? Was Ashvallen living high on the hog eating tteokbokki, bulgogi and hoeddeok? Mmm…hoeddeok. My stomach growled in response. I was so hungry I’d even eat soondae. The concept of it disgusted me, but I’d settle for it at this point. Was she sitting there listening to my sister’s lame stories about how exciting math was and blinking at her blankly as Moon regaled her with exciting tales of factoring polynomials? Was she lying in my expensive, cushy bed masturbating at night?

Hmmm, I thought, tingling slightly at the thought. That, actually, sounded pretty hot. It would be my hands and my body but someone else’s mind and emotions. Wow, actually, that was really hot. All the best parts of selfcest like in the manga but with a whole different wrinkle. I mean, it’s not like I hadn’t strongly considered exploring this little half-elf body. I certainly had, multiple times, in fact. I hadn’t had much chance, yet though. My life since I got here had been a screaming jump from a 747 without a parachute and I simply hadn’t had the opportunity.

I glanced around curiously. No guards. Still, even if there were, what did I care? It’s not like they gave a crap if I had any dignity anyway. Besides, it always worked in the porn movies I watched online. Our poorly acted protagonist can’t control her baser urges any longer and starts going to town, gradually being joined by others like some sort of poorly choreographed group hypnosis. They would all end in a panting, gasping orgy of depravity. Of course, there was always the one actress who couldn’t be bothered to play along and kept staring at the director for instruction. Still, if she was the only one to break the otherwise airtight premise that wouldn’t be so bad. Obviously, my first choice would be Carrisyn to join me, but only because she owed me at this point, in my opinion. Not because I cared anything about her. I could want to top her and still not like her. Still, the odds of that happening were remote at best since she was having servants chew her food for her and I was sitting in a cell barely larger than a rabbit cage in the warrens.

Maybe I could tempt that adorable little guard, Lyrei, into joining me in my cell. I could feign some medical emergency and throw myself on her tender ministrations. She could nurse me back to health with her tongue and I could return the favor until we both collapsed on the ground in a writhing mass of glistening flesh.

As if summoned from my thoughts the door at the end of the hall opened and the nubile little guard slipped through, closing the heavy wooden portal behind her. My chest thudded in anticipation. Did she come for some lovin’? Surely not but…it wasn’t a 100% not. I made my way to my feet, trying to decide whether I should play coy, haughty, or pitiful. I was chained to the bench after all, so I wasn’t sure I could pull off acting normal. While trying to decide how to act the moment had passed and I, instead, stood in the center of the cell like a fool and watched as Lyrei approached. I was about to say something hopefully witty and come hither when she suddenly dropped to one knee outside the door. I stepped back a pace in surprise.

“Your majesty!” She bowed her head and crossed both arms across her chest.

“Eh?” I muttered in surprise. “Huh?”

“There are many who stand with us,” she declared, not raising her head. “The Ri had promised us negotiation when we first learned about you, but he keeps…other counsel now. We are working on getting you out and putting you in your rightful place.”

“Uh, rightful place?” I hoped that wasn’t under a rock somewhere.

“Upon the exile throne, of course!” Lyrei declared, raising her head, and grinning at me. “The throne that should have been your mother’s before you. The throne the Ri sits upon now.”

“You know I’m only half elf, right?” I pointed out needlessly, gesturing impotently at my hair.

“Your elven half is royal. That is more than the Ri can claim. He was nothing more than a lowly advisor to the Silver Throne. After the wars he…well, he consolidated power after your mother’s shame. He led us here, led us to this miserable hole in the ground where the moon doesn’t reach. We won’t let anything happen,” Lyrei replied, putting both hands over her heart. “I swear on my ancestors. Please be patient and be wary. Have heart! We are with you! I have to go for now to avoid suspicion, but I’ll return. Be well, your majesty!” Leaving me staring after her she quickly vanished back out the door.

“But I wanted naked writhing,” I mumbled to the empty dungeon. Still, she’d given me a lot to think on. Mainly the fact the Ri’s arthritic hold on power wasn’t quite so absolute. Suddenly the weight of what she’d said hit me. Was I in the middle of a civil war right now? Oh, shit. That never ended well. I stalked around the cell in agitation.

I was wholly unqualified to lead any kind of revolution. I mean, even as a figurehead I was plainly useless. I’d just come here to hand the Ri over some crap, not to pull a Joan of Arc. Things didn’t work out well for Joan. I mean, yeah, she was mostly crazy and the elite in France humored her because she did their job for them, but she didn’t have a great time at the end there. Burned at the stake didn’t sound like much fun.

However, if there were a lot of these people maybe I could use them to get out of here without, you know, going to war against the rest of the elves in the process. The Ri didn’t seem the forgive and forget type. The forgot everything else part maybe, but not the forgive part for sure. I paused in my pacing as the door opened again. I turned toward it and instantly scowled. This most certainly was not my erstwhile subject.

The girl who slipped through the open door was covered in a long, loose cape; the cowl pulled close about her face. She was small, not much taller than I was but exuded an aura of danger that felt almost like a physical thing. She moved with the practiced grace of someone used to hiding their presence. She made her way to my cell and stood silently for a moment. The torchlight glinted dully off her eyes but her face itself was hidden within the dark recess of her cowl.

“You are Ashvallen Silverbough,” the girl finally said, her voice a mere whisper. It was not a question, merely a statement.

“And you must be Detective Conan,” I replied. “I hardly recognized you without your glasses.” I grinned at her smarmily, well aware she had no idea what I was talking about yet relishing what little superiority an unknown reference afforded me. She reached up and pulled back her cowl, revealing a beautiful if somewhat pale face with full lips and deep green eyes framed by long black hair.

“I am Jaxxin Starling,” she said, smiling to reveal dimples. She was, honestly, quite fetching, but probably not here to enjoy some naked fun. I wasn’t sure, of course, but the handles of the twin katanas on her back didn’t seem to be designed for heavy petting.

“Ok,” I shrugged. The girl seemed rather taken aback at first, as if used to being recognized by name alone. I decided to play along since it was obviously some sort of badge of honor for her. “Wait! You mean the Jaxxin Starling?” Her smile returned, but I simply couldn’t keep the ruse up. “Yeah, sorry, I have no idea who you are.”

“I am death and I’ve come for you,” she replied, regaining her composure quickly. I shrugged again.

“Nice line!” I acknowledged. It really was a decent line. Very Quentin Tarantino. “But it wouldn’t be the first time I died and probably won’t be the last. Besides, it’s not like I have anything to defend myself with, so we might as well get this over.”