CONTENT ADVISORY / TRIGGER WARNING
THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS DEPICTIONS/STRONG IMPLICATIONS OF THE FOLLOWING THAT SOME READERS MAY FIND OFFENSIVE OR DISTURBING:
~ VIOLENCE
It happened in an instant. The man named Erik thrust the burning timber at the girl, the fire creeping closer and closer to her. Its heat tickling her skin, the flame illuminating her pale face. The warm sensation slowly turned into one of burning as he moved the flame closer, almost touching her bruised flesh. Then it happened.
The young girl screamed the word 'no', and with the shrill screech of her voice an invisible force erupted around her, extinguishing the flame. She glared up at the man with tropical oceanic eyes, magic swirling within their depths in shades of blue. Tears had welled up at their edges, and a single one had escaped, traveling down her cheek.
The people who had been surrounding her, who had begun to walk away suddenly turned back around and were moving closer to her again. They were curious, curious about the small creature who suddenly wielded magic. Magic, neither very rare or utterly common, wasn't something these townsfolk observed on a daily basis. It was a skill reserved for the elven race that had almost all but been exterminated, or for those who had spent decades studying its arts. Those who could perform magical acts were usually stationed in a position amongst the kings court, or within the higher ranks of the kingdoms forces. Those who could wield magic of the highest caliber, without any formal training, were those called dragon slayers. A being with the soul of a dragon.
Erik grunted, raising the log above his head where embers trickled onto his sleeve. He was preparing to strike the girl again. His arm swung quickly downwards, stopping just a mere inch from her head. Except he didn't appear to stop from his own volition. Her eyes were now full of tears, her cheeks dampened from them instead of the rain.
Gael lunged forward this time, his open palms ready to ensnare the girl. He didn't succeed either, as the girl screamed once more. The sound piercing to everyone's ears, more so to Gaalin's elven ears. She shrieked, "No! No, no, no, no!"
Each time she said the word, the air around her felt heavier. It felt as if those in the inn were being pulled to the ground, it was hard to breathe, some even felt faint. She screamed then, a sound that sounded as if she were in agonizing pain, and with that cry, the force that was surrounding her erupted. The three men closest to her were made airborne before being shot across the room away from her, and those in the area were struck with sharp winds. The weaker or less agile fell over, but the strong were able to maintain their position.
Gaalin covered his eyes as wind scraped across his dark skin, his white hair fluttering behind him, and his clothes pulling against his skin as if the sheer force of her magic tried to tear the fabric from his body. Women cried out, men cursed, guards attempted to draw their blades.
"Capture her!"
"Don't let it escape!"
"It's a slayer! It's actually a slayer!"
So many people shouted, their demands overlapping and just turning into indistinguishable hollering. Gaalin felt the mystical aura begin to lessen, he uncovered his eyes and slowly turned his gaze back towards the child. She was panting heavy, staring directly at him. Her gaze, still a stunning blue, but fatigued.
Her eyes rolled upwards, her eyelids closed, and she collapsed towards the ground. Without even thinking Gaalin found himself irresistibly drawn to her, and then he found himself at her side. Catching her small head in his lap before she hit the hard wood floor. He held the young girl gently, her head limply falling back against his arms. He brushed the dirty strands of hair from her face, and revealed the well known pointed ears of the elven race. That's when he knew the child was quite similar to him.
An elf, in a human world. Persecuted against simply for her race. She was suffering the abuse that was once inflicted upon himself. He sighed, cradling her in his arms before standing upright. He looked around, at all of the people who stared at the pair with bewilderment. They continued to whisper the word slayer amongst one another, surprised by the creatures sudden appearance. As they had previously argued, it had been almost fifty years since the last slayer was alive. It was rumored that Slayers were extinct, that the beings who could singlehandedly fight a dragon - and win - were no longer able to be born. Yet here one lay unconscious.
Three guards appeared beside Gaalin, their swords drawn and pointed at him. "Filthy black elf. Are you in league with that creature?"
Gaalin glared at them, one hand moving towards the hilt of his dagger. "I've never seen her before."
One of the guards spat on the ground, "It's another elf."
"At least its not another one with black skin like that eyesore." another replied.
The third guard sighed, and then sheathed his blade. "Regardless if its an elf or not, its most definitely a slayer. We need to take it to the King, he needs to see this."
The other two lowered their swords, glanced amongst each other and then back at Gaalin. "You're the black elf that's a mercenary, yes? The one usually accepting tasks for coin in Edinburgh?"
Gaalin nodded. "Aye."
"Pick that up." another guard said, approaching the three. This one was older than the others, and by the submission of them he had to assume this man was of higher ranking. "Pick that up and carry it to the king, come with us."
Gaalin stood up, cradling the girl in his arms and remained standing beside the guards. He glanced around at the trio of men who had dragged the child inside, two were unconscious and the third was slowly pulling himself up with the assistance of several stools.
"Wait!" he gasped. "Wait!"
The guards turned to glance at him. "What is it?"
"You cant take her. I found her, I have to show her to the king." He stumbled to his feet. "The king promised a reward if a slayer was found, a reward of gold and jewels. Its mine, that reward is mine."
The eldest guard frowned. "That was long ago."
Erik tripped, his feet getting tangled beneath him until he fell to his knees in front of Gaalin. A shaky hand reached up and clung onto the material of the girls clothes. "The reward belongs to me, give the slayer to me."
"Enough, we shall take it from here." A guard barked. "This is no task a citizen should concern themselves with."
They turned to leave, waving a hand at Gaalin, signaling him to follow. Erik didn't release the girl when he turned, just stammered "Give it to me, the reward is mine, I found the slayer."
Gaalin's red eyes narrowed. "Let go."
Erik continued to hold onto the girls clothing with one hand, then grabbed onto Gaalin's forearm with his other and pulled himself up until he was standing, although shaky. "Give it to me."
Gaalin shifted the girl in his arms, securing her small body against his chest to hold her with just one arm. With his free hand, he gripped Erik's wrist and squeezed. His hold was strong, crushing, and Erik yelped.
"Let go. I wont tell you again."
The four guards had stopped at the door and were staring back, observing the situation with mild interest. Erik winced but released his hold on the girl, but glared back at Gaalin.
"Give it to me. I found it, its mine."
Gaalin sneered, his lip curling upwards over his teeth. "Try to take the elf from me."
Erik swung his fist, aiming for Gaalin's face. However, what the merchant failed to recognize was that Gaalin was a sword for hire. He lived every day of his life fighting: with sword, bow or fist. His skills were not ordinary, and neither was he. He was a lethal fighter. Simply evading the overweight mans sluggish swing, Gaalin reacted with a quick blow to the mans stomach with as much force he could muster with his awkward stance.
Erik vomited while clutching his abdomen, and then he collapsed to the floor. Gaalin snorted and turned away, following the guards out the door. "Foolish man."