The Unwanted Shadow

A story about a man being hunted by a vengeful elf. Set in a dark fantasy universe of my own making.

He ran as fast as he could, but the pointy-eared menace of a woman hounded him with every step he took. Running through the crowds of the market district had given him a slight advantage, but he wouldn’t be able to keep up this pace much longer… and if the guards caught him, he would be done for sure.

Weaving between peasants, merchants, and market stalls in an attempt to lose his pursuer, he spotted an alleyway and dashed toward it. Quickly scanning his surroundings he found an open door and ran through.

Another quick survey of the dust filled room informed him that it had been abandoned for quite some time, and acting without thinking he closed the door behind him. With some effort, he knocked over a nearby bookshelf to block it’s entry. He took a moment to catch his breath and breathed a sigh of relief. Taking the little time he has to rest, he ran his fingers through his mangy, dirty brown hair, and he reflected on the recent events that had put him in this predicament in the first place…

 

His name was Jordan Finnok, Finn to his friends. He was just shy of being average height, and had a particular look about him, with his signature raggedy old coat of many pockets, both on the inside and out, distinguished him from his friends. In his pockets he carried various thieving tools, a brooch, and other items that weren’t exactly honorable for a common peasant to have… or anything you would want a guard to catch yourself carrying.

About one week ago he had posed as a homeless man, which in it self wasn’t a lie, to a family of elven immigrants in an attempt to get a free meal, and perhaps some coin if he was lucky enough. The family consisted of a husband and wife, and a young girl barely in her early adolescence.

They were living on a farm to the southwest of Ullyess, the largest, if not only, human city in the west. It was here where Finn was born and raised, and where he had spent most of his life.

The family welcomed him in readily, and offered a meal without him even asking. They even offered him to stay the night if need be, but he respectfully declined, saying that the meal would suffice.

With the husband out working, the wife in the dining room cooking, and the child outside playing, Finn decided to look around their humble abode. That is where he saw it: in the back room on top a table he saw a beautiful, silver statuette, roughly the size of both his fists clenched together, depicting a female elf in an acrobatic pose wielding a sword adorned with golden leaves, and donning a headdress with a veil. Elven runes were carved into it’s base, presumably elaborating on it’s meaning.

The woman of the house walked in on him admiring the statuette.

“It was gift from our clan leader,” she explained.

He was startled by her voice at first, but quickly regained his composure. She had straight and long golden blonde hair, and had emerald hued eyes. The long white dress she wore was simple, yet it was also elegant at the same time. The dress had a long, green silk ribbon rolling across her shoulders down to both of her elbows, which was cut off at such an angle as to not restrict movement, but still give it an appealing look to it. She was slightly taller than him, and much more beautiful than any tavern wench or lady of pleasure he’d ever seen before.

“Made for our daughter, for her service in the warrior caste.”

“Huh? The little one? She’s a warrior, being so young?” Finn asked, sounding confused.

“Hmm? Oh, no!”, she chuckled, “It is for our other daughter. But she doesn’t live with us anymore. The runes engraved upon it speak of the honors she has brought to our family, and to our clan.”

Finn nodded, “It’s a fine piece of work,” he mused aloud. “I’m sure it could sell for a small fortune…”

The elven woman gave a surprised and perplexed look, “Well, I suppose it could… But it has sentimental value, and we would never part with it.”

Finn’s eyes widened as he realized what he had said, “Oh, yes, of course! I was just pointing out it’s fine craftsmanship! I’ve never seen anything like it before, is all...”

She gave him a wry smiled, “Well, are you ready for supper? It will be done in but a moment,” she said, motioning back to the dining room.

He smiled and nodded in reply, feeling quite the fool, and followed her back into the dining room.

 

Suddenly the door slammed open, but only partially as it refused to budge anymore due to the bookshelf in the way.

“Unbar the damned door, human!”, yelled the angry voice on the other side, “You’re only making things worse for yourself!”

He was still short of breath, and his legs were exhausted from all the running he had done. How could that elven woman still be able to chase him? He was a thief, and had spent most of his life stealing when the opportunity presented it self. Although he prided himself on never stealing from people kind enough to offer free meals to strangers, such as that elven family. Or from people who really needed what little they had. He had outrun the city guards hundreds of times! Even his friends, whom were mostly thieves, were always quite impressed with his skills of evasion. But this woman! This insane elven woman! Just how much longer could she keep after him? He’s ran faster and harder than he’s ever had to in years, and yet she was always just a few paces behind him!

The door slammed again, yet it still held, although for how long he didn’t know. Ignoring the shouting and cursing of the elven woman, he looked around for another exit. Running past broken crates, barrels, and other debris, he found a stairwell in the back of the house going up several floors, eventually leading to the roof.

Once he reached the rooftop he heard a loud crash, and he knew that the elf must have broken through the door below.

This is my chance, he thought, She might have been able to catch me on the ground, but up here…

He didn’t hesitate to think about it twice.

He leaped from the rooftop onto the side of a nearby building, hanging on by a wooden beam. But as he did so, he quickly realized how tired and weary he actually was. His grip of one hand slipped, and he barely held on by the other. But he was soon able to correct himself and climb the rest of the way, roughly ten feet, to reached the roof of the building.

“I better not… Try that again…”, he said aloud between harsh breaths.

Off in the distance on another nearby rooftop he saw a familiar figure leaning on a chimney, waving at him. It was one of his old thief friends, Donnan Mercy, otherwise known simply as Don.

Don was a lifelong friend of Finn, they grew up together when their mothers had died in a horrible fire almost twenty years ago, when both were still only children.

“‘Ey, Finn! Wha’er ye doin’ up ‘ere?” he shouted at him, waving his arms about.

“Don!”, Finn shouted back, “There’s this… crazy elf wench… she’s going to kill me!”, he somehow managed to gasp out.

Don chuckled, “Ye alwas’ ‘ada way wit’ them ladies, Finn!”

“No, Don… I’m serious!” he shouted back, still panting as he slowly made his way towards Don, “Do you… Do you remember those easterners? Them were mercenaries…”

 

Three days ago, he had made the reluctant sale of the location of the elven statuette. He had made a good sum of coin by doing so.

Finn was at the Soaring Eagle tavern in the docks district of Ullyess, enjoying himself with his friends. While not a seaside city, half of Ullyess sat adjacent to lake shiverstill, the largest lake in the known western world.

He mentioned to his friends about the beautiful elven statuette made of silver and gold, and because by that time he had consumed several ales, he did so rather loudly.

Four men sat across the tavern at a table, one of whom stood up and walked over to Finn and company.

“An elven statue, you say?” he asked with a deep, gruff voice.

“Yeah, an’ what’s it to ya’?” Finn replied, quite intoxicated and slowly turning to face the man.

The man was large man, nearly a full head taller than Finn. And angry looking, whose thick black beard gave him a menacing glare. He wore a strange breastplate and clothes of foreign design, emblazoned with strange dragon-like lizards that held no front talons.

“It would be well worth your time to tell me where this… artifact, would be found.”

Something about the tone of the man’s voice instantly sobered Finn right up, and a tinge of fear struck him to the core.

While you couldn’t call Finn an honorable man, you also couldn’t call him a rat, either. He didn’t want to give up the elven family because of their hospitality to him. For some reason, he found himself hold the brooch in one of his many pockets that once belonged to his mother, which she gave to him as a child gift for his birthday shortly before her death.

With those two facts combined in his head, and he made the decision to withhold the information from the stranger.

“I’ve forgotten where-”, he started.

“I am sure this…”, the foreigner interrupted, dropping a small pouch of coins onto the table in front of Finn, full to the brim with jingling coins, “…will refresh your memory.”

Finn and his friends were speechless. Still, even with a full bag of coins in front of him, something about this man… just felt wrong.

Who is this man? Why would he be so eager to spend so much coin on just a drunken rumor? Finn wondered.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t-”, he began, only to be interrupted again, but this time not by words.

The large man just squinted his eyes, which somehow making him look even more angry and menacing than before. He then purposefully, and obviously, rested his hand at his side, leaning it on the hilt of a large single-bladed axe.

“I am sorry, my good man, I do not believe I heard you correctly,” he said, in a tone that nearly shattered Finn’s already quivering spine.

How does he know? Finn asked himself in a panic, “Uh, it… was at a farm, to the southeast…”

He couldn’t help himself. The man’s words made him fear for his life.

“Ah, I see!”, the man exclaimed gleefully, “Enjoy yourselves, lads! My comrades and I will be on our way.”

Instantly Finn felt he did something horrible, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. But all he could do was watch with a terrible sinking feeling in his gut, as the large man and his friends got up and walked out the tavern door.

“‘Ey, why th’ sorry look, Finny-boy?”, Don proclaimed excitedly, “There be at’east a week o’ wages here!”

“Yeah… It’s probably nothing…”, he told himself, though he only half believed it at the time.

He and his friends returned to drinking, counting their newfound wealth as they did so, which amounted to sixty-eight gold pieces, a sizable sum for the small band of thieves. Finn eventually forgot about the whole incident later that night.

 

“So? Wha’s them gots ta do wit’ this crazy elven lass, eh?”, Don asked, still smiling as he still stood across the way on the other rooftop.

“Don’t you remember? That elven family!”, Finn yelled furiously, “Remember how that guard patrol found the farm, burnt to cinders the next morning! The father was found butchered in the yard, and the mother and little one…”, Finn’s voice quivered as he trailed off.

Don’s smile disappeared almost instantly as Finn told him, and a look of shock quickly replaced it.

“Ye mean… Them fellows…”, Don said depressingly.

“Yeah, them fellows were mercenaries, from the east,” Finn explained, “They aren’t on good terms with them elves, I hear.”

“An’ this elven lady…?”

“I don’t feel safe talking up here,” Finn said, as he quickly remembered he was still being pursued. Nervously scanning the alleyways down below, “Do you got any place I could hide out at for a while?”, he asked.

Don nodded as he reached over to help Finn up, and then led the way across the rooftops.

“I only met her earlier today,” Finn started, “She attacked me in the middle of the market! Luckily she missed, though, or she would’ve taken off my head…”

Their conversation continued for several minutes, but as it did, little did they know they were being followed silently from below, by a stalking shadow…

 

Hours had past by, the sun had set, and the full moon was now rising up in the distance. Finn had almost forgotten about the whole ordeal, and he felt safe as they reached their destination. It was a shanty little shed on the rooftop of the Maplewood inn, near the border between the market district and the docks district.

Don went over to unlock his makeshift door made out of broken barrel pieces, which was only held together by iron nails and chains originally used as slave shackles.

Finn looked behind them just to make sure they weren’t followed, “I’ve got to thank you again, Don…”, Finn started to say, but was startled and cut short by the rattling sound of chains hitting to the floor.

At first, he thought Don dropped his makeshift lock. But when he went to look at him, he was gone!

“Don?”, Finn asked in a panic, frantically looking around, “This isn’t funny, Don!”

“It is for me,” whispered a feminine voice into his ear.

Finn quickly turned around, only to be instantly grabbed by his coat and held off his feet by the elven woman.

“Do you know how long I have been following you?”, asked the elf calmly and sternly.

Finn was finally able to get a good look at his pursuer. She was tall, just like the other elven woman Finn met, and had the same emerald green eyes. She wore a simple headdress attached to a veil which hid her delicate facial features behind a thin, transparent silk barrier. Her long hair was a bright red, with several braids down its length. She was wearing intricately designed leather armor, with a long robe-like cloak which’s shoulder guards both had outwardly facing straps of leather, giving her an appearance of high ranking.

“P-please! Just think about this!”, Finn stammered out, while at the same time slowly reaching for one of his coat pockets…

“Think? You’re telling me to think?”, she yelled at him, “It’s your fault that my family is dead! What can there possibly be to think about?”

“I swear! I didn’t…” Finn began to say, but then…

Suddenly holding his breath and closing his eyes, Finn grabbed an object from his coat pocket and threw it on the ground, and it shattered with the sound of breaking glass.

The air surrounding him exploded with thick black smoke, as the elven woman released him as she began to cough on the fumes. Finn wasted no time to make his escape.

He was saving that rare tool for a special occasion, when he might have gotten surrounded by guards and needed a quick getaway. He thought this situation qualified.

Knowing that it’s effects wouldn’t last long, he dashed towards the nearest building in an attempt to climb up and make a getaway, just like before. His attempt to grab onto the window while his muscles were still tired from his exertion earlier in the day was in poor judgment, however, and his grip failed him. He fell down into the alleyway below, but lucky for him, an awning broke his fall. Unluckily for him, his leg also broke his fall with a sickening crunch as he screamed out in pain.

He tried to stand up, but he instantly buckled. Looking off in the distance, he noticed that his mother’s brooch had fallen out of his coat pocket and landed further down the alleyway. Without even thinking, he began to crawl his way toward it. The agonizing pain in his leg made every movement a strained effort, but even still, he didn’t stop.

It felt like it took him days to reach it, but he was almost there. Just within reach…

Then his hand broke out in pain as a slender, elven boot stepped down hard on it.

“And just where do you think you are going?”, asked the familiarly haunting voice, “That was a dirty trick, you know.”

“P-please…”, Finn could hardly speak because of pain and fatigue.

She lifted him up by the collar with one arm, and pointed an elegant sword at his heart with the other.

“I-I’m truly sorry… I didn’t mean for… any of it to happen…”, he managed to say, with tears streaming from his eyes. It became harder for him to speak with every breath he took, “If I had known… I would have… I’m so sorry…”

The elf looked longingly into his weeping eyes, and she saw the truth in his words. Her grip lightened, and she lowered her blade. She laid his weakened body against the alley wall.

“I’m so sorry…”, Finn said again.

And again.

And again, with his voice slowly fading with each retelling.

The elven woman then noticed the brooch he was reaching for. She walked over to it and picked it up to examine it.

Finn looked up at her, “My mother’s… Could you…”, he pleaded.

She turned to look back, and slowly walked over to him. Crouching by his side, and staring into his eyes, her gaze still cold as ice, she handed him the brooch.

“Th-thank you…”, was all he was able to mutter.

“No. Do not,” she said, “I thank you, for being honest with me.”

Finn looked up at her.

“Let it be known that I have still have a small amount of mercy left in my heart…”

With tears still streaming from his eyes, “Does that mean… you will let me go?”, Finn hopefully asked.

She stopped and looked at him for a moment before she replied.

“No.”

Finn saw the gleaming flash of the blade moving, but he felt nothing at first. Then a dull pain crept along his throat, and slowly the feeling of warm lifeblood oozing down his neck became apparent.

Things felt strangely serene in the back of his mind, as if things were going to be alright. In his blurring vision, he saw a tantalizingly beautiful sight: a lithe figure slowly walking away, into the moonlight, just before being fully consumed by it’s silvery glow.

At first, there was just blackness slowly creeping into the outskirts of his vision, but then it slowly grew, like a swarm of black butterflies fluttering in and out in front of him.

Until the fluttering swarm finally overtook him, and all he knew turned to black…

 

 

Several days later, now back in her native homeland, the elven woman stood by her jet black steed as the sun rose. She was standing over the graves of her mother and father, and of her beloved younger sister. Holding the reclaimed statuette in one hand, she kneeled down and placed it down on her dear sister’s headstone.

“Killing them will not bring them back,” said an elderly elven man behind her.

“I know, elder,” she said quietly in reply.

“We must learn to let the past be what it is, young one,” the elder continued, “I am not asking you to forget, but to simply let things be.”

“I know, elder,” she said again, standing up as she said so.

“Then why? I understand the mercenaries,” he said in a sincere tone, “But why the others? They-”

“They caused it,” she interrupted, both equally sharp and cold.

“But it was not their blades. Nor their intent.”

She remained silent.

“Do you, even know why?”, the elder asked with genuine curiosity.

“Yes,” she said. She turned to face the elder one more time.

She replied with a grim look on her face: “It made me feel better.”

And with that, she took one last look at her family’s headstones, then mounted her steed to begin her long journey to the east.

“You know that I cannot condone any more acts of vengeance; Not beyond those of the perpetrators,” the elder warned her, as she rode off into the sunrise.

But she remained silent. She didn’t look back. She didn’t even pause.

The elder turned his gaze back to the headstones, and the statuette, one last time with a heavy sigh. After saying one final prayer for the deceased, he began his walk back to the village, his heart full of regret. Regret of lost potential.

Author's Note

This is my first story set in my own dark fantasy universe. I plan on making more, and I hope for some plenty of constructive criticism to help make my stories even better.