CONTENT ADVISORY / TRIGGER WARNING
THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS DEPICTIONS/STRONG IMPLICATIONS OF THE FOLLOWING THAT SOME READERS MAY FIND OFFENSIVE OR DISTURBING:
~ VIOLENCE
~ RACIAL DISCRIMINATION
Standing near the center of the room, a crowd had gathered around in a large circle while cheering, laughing and roaring at the trio of men who had thrown their ale at the back of the much larger man and a companion of his. The five men had practically started a tavern brawl, with the largest brute attempting to break the necks of the men who had started him on his rampage.
The audience consisting of the remaining inn, cheering at the violence erupting from their brawl. Each time the men clashed, another round of laughter and applause occurred. Men smashing their mugs together, spilling ale onto the floor. Gaalin bumped shoulders with other citizens, briefly making eye contact while they continued to partake in the festivities.
The woman who had joined his table earlier still clung to his side, swaying against him while enjoying her own pitcher of ale. She would glance upwards at him, with a sweet smile and a bat of her lashes. He'd look downwards at her on occasion with a mischievous grin, his arm wrapped around her waist. Throughout the evening she'd been touching him, seductively hinting towards him what her plans were for the night.
Night had past quickly for Libelle, but not so much for Gaalin as he remained awake beside her. Keeping an eye on her and watching the door as he waited for someone to burst through it at any moment. Yet it had been silent at the doorway through the remainder of the evening. Libelle had slept soundly the entire time, her small fingers remained intertwined with his the entire time.
To his amazement though, he watched as the remaining bruises, her scars, faded from her body. As if through magic, the history of her abuse vanished, just like that... at least, the visible marks disappeared, however he knew that the mental scars from the horrible treatment she suffered, were bound to never fade.
"I suppose this is thanks to that tonic that old man gave you." He found himself murmuring.
Yet morning arrived, and a pair of guards came pounding on the small door. Their fists landed heavily on the wood, rattling it on its frame. Libelle startled awake, instinctively sitting upwards in the bed and scrambling backwards across it. Her hand slipped over the edge of the mattress and she clattered to the ground. Silently, she looked upwards at Gaalin who stared back down at her, just as startled as she was by her landing on the floor.
The guards turned the heavy knob and pushed the door open, standing shoulder to shoulder with their a hand on their waist and the other on the hilt. "Get up." They said firmly. "Follow us."
Libelle looked between the men and Gaalin, who stood up and stretched his arms above his head. With his motion, she stood up and rushed to his side. Holding onto the sleeve of his shirt.
"The King is waiting."
"Lead the way then." Gaalin said, his lip curling frustratingly over his teeth.
The men turned away, walking down the hallway with Gaalin and Libelle following. They walked through narrow halls once again, eventually wandering down halls that were wider, more elaborate, and in finer condition. It took only a few minutes, but they soon reached the main chambers.
Inside it, were large tables filled with platters of food and pitchers of drink. Sunlight coming through tall windows, illuminating the grand hall where people were bustling about. Libelle released her grip from Gaalin's sleeve, instead clasping his hand with both of hers as she looked about. Men and women, young and old, some dressed as servants and others wearing the uniforms of guards. Many carrying swords and axes, weapons of all shapes and sizes.
Yet the one thing they all had in common, was that they stopped and looked at the pair of elves who walked down the center of the room in the direction of their King. A man dressed in luxuries, stretched taught over his fat belly. A thick neck fit with jewels, yet with each bite of food he took, the excess weight around his hidden Adam's apple jiggled. His greasy skin glistened against the large amount of candlelight, bits and pieces off food trapped in the length of his graying beard. When his brown eyes looked upwards, meeting in the direction that Gaalin and Libelle appeared from he suddenly cheered.
"Ah ha! The child slayer has appeared!" He said, standing up from his throne with a grunt. A man wearing leather armor appeared behind him, one standing on each side as they escorted the man down the stairs to the animal skin carpet where Gaalin and Libelle were instructed to remain standing.
The King clapped his hands together, "Look! Look everyone! Do you see this glorious gift bestowed by the gods on our kingdom?" he shouted, his voice booming, echoing throughout the grand hall. "A slayer has appeared before us, finally!"
He reached the bottom of the stairs, stopping just before the two elves. "Oh how I have prayed for this day."
Libelle stepped behind Gaalin, peaking her blue eyes out from behind his waist. She stared at the obese King who smiled down at her, yet his gaze turned upwards at Gaalin with a sneer. He looked among the guards that escorted the pair to his presence.
"The dark skinned elf, is he the slayer's guardian?" The King asked.
Behind them appeared the three guards from the evening before, "No my lord, he is a mercenary that witnessed the slayer's capabilities at the inn."
The king frowned, "Then remove this distasteful creature from my sight. The appearance of such a fowl creature in my castle, its sickening."
Gaalin snorted, glaring at the men who began approaching him with wicked smiles, as if they were ready to have fun with tossing him outside. His arm reaching behind himself as he placed his hand on Libelle's upper back. "With all due respect, my lord," he seethed. "I've promised this child my protection, so I'll remain where I am."
"Bah," the king laughed. "-Get it out of my sight."
The guards reached them, placing one hand on each of his shoulders firmly. "Come with us." They said. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."
"Or do, please fight back. I'd love to kill an elf such as you."
"Vile thing."
This time, Gaalin placed his opposing hand on his own blade. "I'd like to see you try." He shrugged the guards hands off his arms, stepping backwards and guiding Libelle with his movements.
"This child has already suffered enough torment from the likes of you and your kind, while she remains in your presence – I've told her she will be safe."
"Gaalin," Libelle whimpered.
"I cannot keep that promise if I leave her with you."
The kings fat face turned red, "Seize him! Kill him if you must! I will not tolerate such disrespect!"
Gaalin unsheathed his sword, his hold tightening around Libelle's small back. "Come at me."
"Bring the slayer to me!"
Gaalin clashed swords with the first warrior who tried to strike him from above, knocking the man backwards before spinning around to meet another blade coming from behind him. Several more attacks came at him, from all directions, and it was becoming harder and harder to defend himself with one hand securely wrapped around Libelle. Every motion he took, he had to lift her feet from the ground and spin her with his movements.
Yet one motion was not quick enough, and a blade slashed through the material of his shirt, slicing into the skin over his shoulder blade. Blood began to seep from the wound almost instantaneously. He gritted his teeth, but spun around to force that man backwards, away from him and the small girl. Gaalin was skilled, fantastically skilled in combat.
However, when trapped between over ten men with blades, when holding a terrified child against himself, he was overwhelmed. If he wanted to protect Libelle, if he wanted to save his own life, he'd have to escape with her. Even if she was a slayer.
"Stop!" Libelle cried out as another blade slipped past Gaalin's guard and cut his skin along his bicep. "Stop please!"
The men under the King's order ignored her plea, they continued to attack, each coming at him. They had no desire to disarm him, no desire to force him to surrender and force him to leave the castle. They wanted to kill him, it was as simple as that. She looked up at Gaalin as his grip around her tightened once more and he lifted her feet from the ground, spinning her around with him. His teeth were clenched together with his teeth barred, his expression was furious, but pained. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on his brow.
She pushed away from him, his eyes widening in surprise as she stumbled away. Her brows pinched together, their inner blonde hairs raising. "Please stop." She cried. Yet Gaalin couldn't, he could not stop clashing swords with the attacking guards, as if and when he stopped, he would be struck down.
Libelle screeched, "Stop! Please!" As if she were screaming to the point of attempting to break her lungs, yet with her scream came another display of her inherit powers. With an eruption of her voice, came an explosion of her magic. An invisible force shot from her being, like a strong gust of wind blowing from the peak of the highest mountain, it enveloped her just for a moment before a blast caused every individual in the immediate area to fly backwards, everyone excluding Gaalin.
He shielded his eyes, waiting for the magical aura remaining in the air to dissipate. Listening to the moans, the grunts, the curses of those who had been struck. It took a minute for the stiffness in the air to lessen, although when it did, he lowered his arm. The attacking guards and warriors were laying on the ground, stunned and in a state of shock from the sudden impact. The King had fallen to the floor, his mouth gaping wide with surprise. Any object within twenty feet of Libelle had been pushed away, fragile things shattered, yet surprisingly, no one appeared to have been killed.