Chapter 1

The main character finds herself trapped in a darkling's underground lair.

I am going to die.

I held my breath, terrified that the slightest stirring of wind would give my position away. I pressed my back further against the bark of the tree, desperately wanting the ability to turn invisible or perhaps morph into an indistinguishable oak tree. And wanting the ability to do these things without severe repercussions.

I thought about my options. The only weapon I had was my silver dagger, which was sheathed in a small holster that was tied to my waist. I frowned, knowing that if I unclipped the holster, the noise following that movement would surely give my location away.

It would also help if I knew what exactly was following me. A ten inch dagger would be useless against a thick skinned ogre that’s twice my size. Although, I was nearly certain that whatever, or whoever was following me was no ogre. Ogres are loud and clumsy--or so I’ve been told. I’ve never actually met one in person.

No, my pursuer was much more stealthy. I had been walking in the forest for nearly an hour with my body seemingly on edge, although I wasn’t exactly sure why. I kept having an eerie feeling that I was being followed--a product of paranoia perhaps. It wasn’t until the occasional rustling of leaves transformed into the sound of footsteps that I truly began to panic.

I took off running, taking sharp turns and maneuvering through thick, murky, green vines and plants, hoping to hide my trail. I didn’t have time to think about anything; I just acted purely on instinct. I forced my tired body to cooperate with me; the adrenaline and need for survival was the only driving force I really had at the moment.

Once I felt that I had put some distance between me and my pursuer, I paused to catch my breath, standing behind a large oak tree. My body was tensed and alert, listening for sounds of another presence.

I heard a small twig break underneath the weight of something solid, which brought me back to my previous thought: I am going to die. It was foolish and stupid of me to think I could survive out here. I’ve never been in hand-to-hand combat, nor have I had any survival skills training. There was never a reason for it back home. I almost laughed at the irony. The one place that was safe and secure for someone like me, I fled from and didn’t look back.

The sound of another footstep brought me back to my current situation. This time it was much closer. Close enough to where running would be futile; I wouldn’t be fast enough to escape it. If I wanted to live, I was going to have to fight my way through.

My hand went to the tip of my holster, and I closed my eyes, bracing myself for what I was about to do. I wouldn’t allow myself to think about what it would feel like to die--especially dying for nothing. I didn’t want to feel like a failure, although I knew deep down that is what I would be if I didn’t live through this.

I flipped open the case and grabbed the hilt of my dagger, positioning the knife in my hand in a way Aelrah used to do when he took me on secret hunting trips. A sharp pain of sadness hit me when I thought of Aelrah and how upset he must be over my sudden absence. I quickly shook off that feeling as fast as it came. Aelrah could wait. I needed to survive first.

“Aaah!” I felt the sharp gust of wind brush against my ear as an arrow abruptly landed in a nearby tree, only a couple of inches from my head. I could hear the sound of fierce hooves clomping on the ground in the distance, coming closer and closer to me. I could hear wild battle cries and eager screams shouting towards me. I couldn’t see anything through the trees, but that meant little when clearly they could spot me.

I immediately froze with terror when I suddenly felt a cold, metal knife press up against my throat. It was the smooth part of the blade, so it didn’t actually cut my skin, however the message was clear.

The next words in my ear were even more chilling. “Come with me, or I’ll kill you myself.”

In situations like these, I’ve learned to act first, ask questions later. I tried to spin around in my captor’s arms with the dagger aimed directly at his chest, preferably to stab him somewhere fatally so I wouldn’t have to do it again. But, before I could so much as move an inch, the stranger knocked the dagger out of my grip with his hand. No!

I turned, facing my opponent, who I noticed was wearing a long black cloak that was completely concealing his face. He was holding my silver dagger in his hand by the blade, the hilt end facing me. He gestured for me to take it.

“Don’t be stupid. Follow me,” the dark voice said.

I obeyed, feeling like I had no other options. I hesitantly grabbed my knife and slipped it back in the holder. The cloaked figure suddenly took off running, and I abruptly followed. It was either stay here to be hunted down like an animal, or flee with this complete stranger who may or may not kill me. Neither choice was very glamorous, but at least the second one involved some form of action. I wouldn’t be a sitting duck at least.

The stranger grabbed my hand and pulled me deeper into the forest. His face was covered in shadows, his thin black veil nearly covering his entire face. I couldn’t see him clearly at all.

“God, you’re slow,” he roughly whispered, gripping my hand tighter and pulling me along.

I didn’t respond to his comment. I was focusing on a much more pressing issue: the hunters with the arrows were coming closer. Another arrow hit a tree, just barely missing my right arm. I am going to die. That annoying pessimistic thought kept popping back up in my mind.

“This way,” the stranger said. I couldn’t see exactly where he was taking me; the flapping black cloak was in my direct line of sight. Only the thick, green, dense shrubs in my peripheral vision let me know we were still deep in the forest. It would be hard for a horseman to ride through this thick terrain. Eventually they would pursue me on foot.

The stranger led me straight into a collection of large stones and suddenly disappeared into a tiny hole between two boulders. I raised my eyebrows, but didn’t question him. I slipped between the cracks and was immediately encased in darkness.

“Keep moving.” He shoved me forward as he began to roll a stone over the front, sealing our entrance.

I kept walking, feeling the damp sides of the cave for support. I could tell I was descending deeper and deeper into the ground, but I couldn’t tell where I was going. My eyes hadn’t adjusted to the meager contrast in light yet. It was pretty dark outside, but in this cave, light was practically nonexistent. I would occasionally stump my toe against a few scattered rocks, feeling like a blind moron. My hands felt a large stone poking out of the ceiling moments before my head did.

“I can’t see anything,” I complained, ducking my head under the rock.

I heard an exasperated sigh as the dark figure blurred past me, taking the lead. From what I could tell, the stranger moved deftly through the darkness, as if he did this sort of thing every day. The temperature was dropping, and the smells were much different here than they were outside. It was cold and damp and smelled of decaying dirt. I thought I could hear dripping water somewhere in the distance as well.

“Where are we going?” I tentatively asked. I felt better now that the narrow tunnel soon widened into a much more comfortable form of a hallway. I didn’t like the feeling of being trapped here, buried alive and compressed by rocks. I also felt better knowing that we were hidden from the lethal arrows that were determined to kill me.

Silence met my question, and I sighed. Just as well. I didn’t really want to know if he was taking me to a secret lair to torture me.

I suddenly recalled some stories of wood elves and prayed desperately that the stranger in the black cloak was not one of them. My thoughts oriented around uncivilized beings who will kill anything moving around in the forest, sometimes raping their victims or eating them alive. Possibly both. I shuddered at my morbid thoughts, suddenly hating myself for being in this situation.

My captor led me deeper and deeper underground. I had goose bumps prickling all over my arms and legs; I couldn’t tell if it was from the cold temperatures or fear. It wasn’t until I saw a dim light in the darkness that I began to feel marginally better.

The faint glow grew brighter and brighter, and we soon entered a small opening in the tunnel. I noticed the source of the light was from a small flame under a black kettle, which was boiling some kind of stew. There was a wooden table in the center of the room, with multiple scratches and knife carvings. It looked like someone had purposely stabbed the table out of anger.

I watched curiously as the stranger slipped off his cloak and hung it on a hook in the wall.

Sleek black hair, nearly as long as mine, was revealed underneath the cloak as my captor turned to face me. I suddenly realized that this stranger was definitely not a male.

She was wearing tight, black, leather shorts, with a black holster of throwing knives around her right thigh. The black shirt she was wearing fit snugly around her body, emphasizing her large chest, which reinforced her gender. A wooden bow rested on her shoulder with a case of arrows tied around her back. She looked ready for battle at a moment’s notice.

“What brings you to Ohrog?"

“You are female?” I asked in amazement. I wasn’t sure why I was so surprised. Neither was she apparently. She blinked twice and raised her eyebrows.

“Of all the things about me that could surprise you, and my gender is most relevant?”

She was absolutely right as I studied her further. With hair as black as night, and the way her skin glowed oddly in the light, it was clear that she wasn’t a wood elf. I stared in amazement as I took in her dark features. Her skin, a silvery grey, looked seemingly more sinister against the shadows of the flame. Her violet irises watched me with amusement as I came to my revelation.

“You’re a darkling?” My statement sounded more like a question to me. I’d almost wish that a wood elf had found me. Never in my wildest imagination would I have thought that I would be standing face to face with a drow.

“I prefer Zame,” she told me as she pulled out her dagger and slammed it against the table. The pale wood split half an inch, as she rested her hands on the hilt of the blade. “I already know what you are,” she announced confidently.

“You do?” I gulped as I slowly lifted my eyes from the silver blade to address her. Zame stared at me, lifting her left eyebrow. She looked annoyed and a little offended that I was insulting her intelligence. She abruptly pulled her knife out of the wooden table and walked closer to me.

“Your pale, fair skin,” she mused, tracing the planes of my arm with the blunt edge of the blade. I stood frozen, unsure of what the darkling was going to do with that knife. She suddenly reached for the back of my head, and I cringed. She slipped the blade underneath the small band that was holding my hair together tightly in a bun. She sliced through it easily with a tiny popping sound, and my long, thick hair came tumbling down past my shoulders. “With all that dirt in your hair, you could almost pass for a wood elf.” The darkling chuckled. “I however see hints of pink in your luscious light blonde hair.” She came to stand in front of me once again, studying my features. “I’m curious. Why would a high elf be in Ohrog?”

“Ohrog?” I asked curiously. It was the second time she had said that. Surely she was mistaken. I remembered studying my map with precarious detail, and thinking to myself how I was glad I wouldn’t be passing through drow territory. It was supposedly was much higher north than the path I was on.

“Surely you aren’t one of Darion’s warriors,” she scoffed. “Your sense of direction is horrible.”

“King Darion,” I corrected bitterly.

“Definitely a high elf,” she commented to herself. “Always so persistently loyal to your king and queen. Stupid really.” She ran her fingers though her dark black hair and tossed it behind her shoulders. “Most of you do not even understand what you are pledging your allegiance to. You give your life blindly.”

I was a little taken aback by her statement. From what I knew about drow, they were even more fiercely loyal to their queen than my own kind. “I would imagine you feel the same way towards Queen Zephyr,” I countered. “I do not judge you for it. She is your queen.”

Zame’s purple eyes narrowed as she stared harshly at me. “Zephyr is no queen of mine,” she said with disgust. “The royal system is just so stupid. I’m at least thankful Zephyr only has one son. I’m sure you know that the darkling tradition is to always have a woman in power and not a male. Hopefully that old b***h will die before she can have any more children.”

“That’s horrible to say.”

“Is it?” she asked skeptically. “By law, I’m obligated to take you to the queen or kill you on the spot. High elves have no business in Ohrog.”

I sighed, knowing she was right. That was perhaps the most startling thing about this whole scenario. Here I was having a conversation with a darkling, when in normal circumstances she should have killed me no questions asked.

“Which brings me back to my earlier question. Why are you here?”

“Honestly, I didn’t know I was in Ohrog,” I told her softly, purposely ignoring her question. I was a little embarrassed at my less than par directional skills.

“I know,” she snapped, annoyed. “You’re obviously far from home. Why?”

I hesitated, unsure of how much information I should tell this complete stranger. My gut instinct told me to keep my mouth shut. She’s a darkling. Why trust her?

“Personal reasons,” I replied simply. Zame rolled her eyes and walked towards the black kettle.

“Do you think I’m going to sell you out? If you haven’t noticed, I’m a little bitter toward Queen Zephyr,” she said as she absentmindedly started to stir whatever was in that pot. “Killing you would do her a favor, not me.”

She’s lying. My mind immediately concluded. All of my life I have been taught that drow are selfish, manipulative creatures. They stop at nothing to get what they want. It doesn’t matter who they hurt in the process of doing it. Drow were every bit as fearsome and violent as wood elves, just slightly more civilized. Slightly being the keyword here.

“Why do you hate her?” I asked. I couldn’t really blame her. The Darkling Queen was not someone I wanted to be friends with. However, I’m pretty biased.

“‘Personal reasons,’” she quoted me sourly. She took a ladle and dunked it into the pot. Gripping a bowl in one hand, she poured a helping of the steaming liquid into the container and handed it to me. It was dark red, with a consistency that reminded me of blood. I sniffed it carefully. “It’s not poisonous,” she told me, watching my reaction. “It’s gumberry soup.”

“Thank you,” I mumbled, placing the soup in front of me on the table. I sat down, watching Zame pour her own bowl and make herself comfortable on the opposite side of the table. She propped her feet up on the pale, wooden table, displaying her black leather boots covered in mud.

I waited until she tasted the stew before I tried mine, just in case she was lying about it being poisonous. Zame slurped hers down noisily, and I turned towards my bowl hesitantly.

I’ve tried gumberries before and didn’t exactly like them. They were much too tart and tangy for my taste. Not wanting to be rude, I cupped the bowl in my hands and sipped the liquid. Yuck. Just as I remembered. All tart and no flavor. It will probably be the only meal I get tonight, so I better make it last and enjoy it.

“Zephyr killed my mother,” Zame stated flatly. I looked up from my bitter soup towards the dark elf. Her purple eyes softened, and her expression turned to grief as she continued. “I was just a little girl at the time, stupidly playing in a river, chasing a few boys who were teasing me. I never even saw it coming,” she paused, her expression turning back to her perpetual angry snare. “A kelpie was swimming in the river, wanting to toy with a little elven girl.”

I shuddered, recalling the dangers of kelpies. Stories I’ve only heard about, not experienced for myself. Horse-like sea monsters with teeth as sharp as daggers, and a mean appetite for creatures swimming in their territory. The worst thing about kelpies are their venomous bite. A bite from a kelpie is fatal. The venom slowly spreads through the blood stream, eventually stopping the heart.

“I tried to climb the bank of the river, but the blasted thing bit my calf. The boys I was chasing started to throw rocks at its head, trying to advert his attention away from me. It worked, and I climbed to safety.

“My mom was a doctor of sorts; many drow came from all over the land to come to her for healings. She made potions and grew special herbs to promote good health. I already knew what resulted after a kelpie bite, but I ran to my mother anyway. She got to work immediately, telling me that I was probably going to lose the lower half of my left leg in order to prevent the venom from spreading. I didn’t care at the time; I just wanted the pain to stop. She poured something that burned like fire over my leg, and I watched as my flesh began to sizzle. I don’t know what the hell she poured on me, but it miraculously brought the venom out through my skin. It was one of the worst pains I have ever experienced in my entire life … but I survived,” Zame paused, mixed emotions crossing her face.

“I don’t understand, what does this story have to do with your mother being killed?” I asked.

“I was getting to that.” Zame clearly did not like the interruption. After giving me heavy glare, she continued her story. “Word spread quickly that I was bit by a kelpie. What was even more shocking was the fact that I was still walking around alive, and my mother euphoric that the potion she had been working on actually worked. So naturally, it was about that time when Queen B***h showed up.”
           Zame’s violet irises narrowed as she continued the story. “She claimed that my mom was a magi elf.”

My body involuntarily tensed up at hearing that word. I tried not to think about it. “She thought it was impossible for drow to create an elixir that cured kelpie venom without the help of magic. Ignorance at its finest.” She shook her head slowly and looked down at her black leather boot. She let out a sigh.
          “What happened?” I wondered.
          “Zephyr killed her.”
          “What?” Her blunt, short answer caught me off guard. “No trial?”
          “Of course not.” Zame threw me a look, one that I assumed meant that she thought I was being stupid. “She’s too prideful to ever be wrong.” Zame lifted her head to stare past me. “Zephyr’s guards stabbed her in front of me. I watched her blood spill to the ground as she bled to death.”
          I immediately felt pain for this creature. Darkling or not, no one should have to go through the torment of watching their own mother die in front of them. I was starting to see where Zame’s bitter attitude came from. My already negative thoughts about the Darkling Queen intensified.
         “I’m sorry,” I told her.
         “I don’t need pity from a high elf,” she snapped as she stood up. She spun on her heels and walked to the corner of the room. She approached a table with a drawer and bent down to slide it open. She rustled through some items before she finally found what she was looking for.

“What are you doing?” My voice jumped an octave as Zame headed towards me with a pile of white rope in her hands.
            Before I even had time to defend myself, Zame had my arms effortlessly pinned to my back as she quickly bound my wrists together. With impressive speed, she wrapped coils of rope around my body, attaching me to the chair.

“Stop! Untie me!” I cried.

“Will you tell me why you’re in Ohrog?” She suddenly paused in her progress. I struggled against the rope, suddenly panicking when I realized that I couldn’t even move an inch. My wrists burned at the tension between the rope and my frantic attempts at escaping.
           “Blondie. Stop moving,” she said, sighing. She didn’t appear to be worried about me escaping. “Are you going to tell me why you are in drow territory?”
           I bit my lip, thinking. Her question suddenly reminded me of home, and a powerful wave of sadness poured through me. I hadn’t truthfully told anyone the real reason I left, nor did I plan on it. This was a secret I couldn’t even share with my best friend, Aelrah. I especially couldn’t share it with this darkling who I just met.

Only one individual knew about this secret and now she’s dead. I cannot afford to let anyone else know about this. Bound or not, I couldn’t do it.

“I can’t tell you.”
            Zame shrugged as she continued to wrap coils of rope around my body. “That’s too bad,” she muttered. She suddenly pulled the ropes hard against my flesh, tying a knot. “I’m keeping you here until I figure out what to do with you.”

And with that, she suddenly left the room, leaving me alone in her underground prison.

Author's Note

1st chapter of Elfish. Still needs editing, but it has the overall meat of the story. Suggestions for improvements are much appreciated! Any thoughts? Comments?

Thanks:)

P.s. Sorry my chapters are so long D:

Reviews

[hippityhoppitybippitybo..]

Strangely reflective of my own style when I used to write fantasy. This is pretty refreshing after being so used to trawling through a bunch of rubbish; I really have no idea why I decided I'd sit down and read something on here today, but it was a good read. Reminds of me when I actually used to be pretty decent at writing, I wish my stuff was as good as this.
Few things I noticed though; there are a couple instances that have a bit of repetitive feel ~
'Possibly both' and 'Probably both' are a paragraph apart and 'countered' was used twice in close proximity. Also, when it comes to dialogue, you end with a comma and the next word needs to be lowercase (eg: 'She said' > 'she said') unless the line after it describes an action or something else.
"'I’m sorry.' [< comma here] I told her"
"'Of course not.' [< this is fine] Zame threw me a look"
When quoting people, you don't use triple marks unless you're doing something like what I'm doing when I'm taking excerpts from your story, meaning you'll only really see them at the beginning of a sentence.
I kind of saw the 'mysterious guy' actually being a 'mysterious girl' thing from about a mile away, might want to make it a little more subtle. It was probably the description of the hood hiding the face that gave it away - I think that gives a sort of feeling that it'll go in that direction. But maybe that' just me.
“Always so persistently loyal to your king and queen. Stupid really.”
“The royal system is just so stupid."
^ Might be that it's personal preference or that it's just fitting for what you had in mind for her character, but these parts ruined Zame's character a little for me.
Anyway. Moving on.
Other than a couple tidbits and some dialogue lines that could use some reworking, this is really some novel level stuff. The details have an excellent flow to them, I didn't see any awkward breaks or quirks, there's conflict right in the beginning for a good hook, and overall it's just a great start. I might even be interested to see how the rest of the story unfolds . I have to say I'm pretty impressed by your work, though it'd be a real kicker if you can throw in an original, complex plot into the mix while you're at it. This is the kind of stuff I like to see when I co-write with people. Keep up the good work.

[Strigoikillerr]

Your comments are definitely helpful, and I'm glad you pointed out those things to me. Thanks so much for reading and your in depth review! :) I'll definitely go back and work on some things.

[Daydreamer54]

Soem i'm guessing the blond elf was trying to esape for some reason and I like how you switched pint of views. i was positive this would have been told from Zame's POV.

[Strigoikillerr]

Yep, she definitely is!

[InsanityWriter]

Aaaahh!!! So good. :)

[Strigoikillerr]

Thank you Insanity!! ^^

[Schyala]

Its really well written, you are definatley an author! the storyline and plot are very interesting, great hook and you have a really amazing word choice. the tome was very suspensful, and you did an excellent job capturing the emotions. amazing job! 100/100

[Strigoikillerr]

Thanks for your kind review Syrinx :)

[Ufi Auttorri ~ Amy C. T..]

OK, I'm hooked. Very well written! You have given this an interesting first person perspective that comes through well for the reader. I had no trouble with the mental movie. The dialog is good. There are only a few minor inconsistencies in the back and forth. I would like to hear/read more differences in the spoken dialect of the two; if you think that's a good thing. Of course it's possible that doesn't fit in this world that you've created. That brings me to the question, where the heck are we? I didn't get much of that from the prologue. Perhaps you will back fill later. There had better be more... I would hate to find it necessary to send my trologs after you. You wouldn't want to meet one of those, even in your dreams. {evil grin} But, I know you'll be a good little green goddess and brew up many more chapters for your voracious reader, won't you? :o)

[Strigoikillerr]

So glad you read this! I've been trying to get my friends to read my work for the longest time. (too busy and not fans of this genre) *sad face*

I'll keep writing, and I will later give a more thorough description of the setting when the main character experiences it. As well as her name.. tehe

but should I be worried about your trologs? :p

P.s. thanks for your comments! They were very helpful :)

[Ufi Auttorri ~ Amy C. T. Serrat]

Oh, those rapscallions! Well, too bad, their loss, my gain! :) Oh, and of course mortals should be worried about trologs. There are most worrisome things; especially when they com in our dreams! But, you're a beautiful green goddess - no effect whatsoever - so, "Never mind!" :o)

[Strigoikillerr]

Just realized I never really answered your question. This story takes place in a world called Elfin.