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Freedom is a privilege, a privilege that had been denied to the city of Mayred for over two years. Fear had instead taken its place as a law that had forcefully brought the city denizens to their knees. Where laughter and contentment could once be found throughout the cobblestone streets, fragile smiles and the façade of peace had filled every corner of the capital. The banners emblazoned with the Royal Crest of Aenoch waved vividly in the constant breeze that could be found on the fields near the sea. These banners had once been a symbol of pride that had instilled itself into the very walls of Mayred. Now they are hollow beacons for they wave in a broken city where hope has disappeared from the streets.

‘I wish things would get better.’

This was a thought that was on every citizen’s mind. In the mind of every woman afraid to go out onto the streets for fear of being sexually harassed or assaulted by a guard. In the mind of every man who feared that their home will be taken or their person brutalized. In the mind of every child who just wished that they could play outside again like they used to. Every civilian living in Mayred wished with all of their might that things would go back to the way they were. Elaine was just one more person to that crowd of wishers but never worked to change anything.

‘Look at us.’ She thought miserably, ‘A conquered city and yet we never opened our gates to any invader.’

As the young woman inched towards the gates to leave Mayred, the city guards, The Royal Order of the Griffins, had set up a check point, as they always do to ensure that those leaving had business outside the city. This was no more a home than it was a prison with stone walls instead of iron bars and every prisoner inside felt the same choking hold of fear. The line came to a stop again and Elaine bristled, knowing well what was coming next.

“Everyone on yer knees!” barked a guard.

The people in the line rushed to do just that, and fell to their knees, Elaine included. She kept her head down, icy blue eyes rimmed in gold, fixating upon a peculiarly formed cobblestone to keep her attention away from the terrifying guards that masqueraded themselves as men. It was as if they were wild animals, if anyone looked at them the wrong way, they were bound to spring to life and respond with violence. The woman behind her seemed to feel the same way, for she was sobbing softly, sniffling every time a guard walked by. It made Elaine tense for she feared that the woman’s crying would draw their attention.

“Hands on yer heads!”

Everyone did as they were told and settled their palms against their skulls, each individual fearing that they would be next in the list of victims from the would be protectors of the city. She ground her teeth together, squinting her eyes shut as the lady behind her gave another sob of despair, being louder than the blue-eyed woman was comfortable with.

When a Griffin walked by, she grew even louder. Elaine found herself saying every prayer she knew, to every god she could remember, begging to let the guard keep moving. Her prayer was answered, by which god she did not know, did not even know if it was merely the hand of luck that kept her safe for the time being. Regardless, she thanked every god she prayed to, for in these horrid walls, many felt like they needed to count their blessings and keep their faith close to their chest.

But what was a blessing for her, was a curse for the man hauling a large, cloth covered wagon in front of her. Elaine’s eyes widened considerably when she saw Naer, Captain of the Griffons and tyrant of the city, step forward. She had only seen the dark elf one time before in the town square when he, personally, executed a couple who had dared to speak out against him and slander his name. Much was said about the tyrannical ruler of Mayred, like how when he smiled, it was only in pleasure of other people’s suffering. A thoroughly nasty character.

He almost looked as unsavory as he was reputed to be. His mouth was stuck in a permanent macabre half smile because of a twisted scar that began at the left corner of his mouth and hooked upwards. Elaine shuddered to think about the wound he would have received to earn that scar. The right side of his face was missing a hunk of flesh, creating an unattractive divot that covered most of his cheek. Along with a scar under his right eye, he also had a puckered line from a wound that would have sliced him open from cheek bone to chin, his left ear was heavily misshapen from when someone cut off the point and tried to carve it into the shape of a round ear.

He was tall and as muscled as any warrior should be, his massive b*****d sword on his back, and underneath his armor, stamped with the Griffin insignia, several scars could be seen. In every way, Naer was a hardened man. It was clear that he had been through many battles, he was utterly without mercy and there were rumors, nasty ones of the nights when he visited the brothels and some of the girls he took to his bed would come out with horrid bruises or wounds. He was a rough individual and there are few as unpleasant as he. It was clear that once Naer was handsome, long before he had picked up a sword, but those days were obviously long passed.

“Well, well, Mr. Maveril….” Naer drawled in his supple, baritone, stepping closer towards the older gentleman who was next to his canvassed wagon in front of her, “Stand.”

The gentleman, Mr. Maveril, did as he was told, his frame trembling conspicuously. His hands were still on his head, he was not instructed to lower them and it was clear that he feared doing so against Naer’s wishes. Elaine even from where she was kneeling could see his body shaking from the fear. Her heart dropped in her chest when she saw a terrible smile spread across the dark elf’s face.

“No need to be so tense, Mr. Maveril. You can lower your hands.”

He did so but even though his hands were by his sides, he looked far from relaxed. The muscles in his shoulders were tight, his jaw was locked, eyes wide. It was evident that this man, a peddler of some sort, was terrified. And with the expression that Naer held on his face, Elaine could not blame him at all. It was a terrifying thing to behold and she could tell that the dark elf was genuinely enjoying this man’s discomfort.

“Now. We know you to be doing certain activities that the law is against. You have one chance to confess your crime. If you do so then you will be shown mercy.”

Elaine was tempted to snort, probably would have if she wasn’t so fearful for her life. Naer had no concept of mercy. He knew it in name only so it would be certain that whatever Maveril had done, regardless of whether he confessed to the crime or not, there would be no mercy waiting for him. And from what she could tell, he was fully aware of that. Brown eyes darted around as if he would find some sort of life line with in the kneeling crowd or in the surrounding area. When there was nothing there that would save him, he looked back to the cruel dark elf that awaited for him to confess.

“Well, Mr. Maveril?” he inquired, taking a step forward, imposing his intimidating presence on the older man, “I’m waiting.”

“I-I’m afraid I don’t know what you are talking about, sir.” The peddlers voice stuttered and it was clear that he was barely able to keep himself together.

Words could not describe the look of delight that came across Naer’s face and Elaine found herself biting back a terrified sob when she realized that Maveril was likely going to die in front of her. The dark elf raised his right hand up, causing the older man to flinch, as if he expected to be struck. Surprise settled across his features when Naer, instead, rested his hand on the side of his neck and shoulder, clasping him almost as if he were a brother. He was smiling but it was clear that no love was held within the expression. Suddenly his large and powerful hand was around Maveril’s throat like a vice, squeezing unmercifully, all while Naer’s expression never changed.

The dark elf was pushing upward, the move forcing the peddler to stand on his tip toes to keep his air from being completely cut off. Elaine felt tears pool in her eyes at the sight, horror preventing her from looking away, hearing a muffled wail from the woman behind her. Suddenly, Maveril was cast harshly to the ground where he was kicked viciously in the ribs. White hair whirling behind him, Naer turned sharply to his men.

“Search the cart!”

The world seemed to hold it’s breath and Elaine could suddenly tell that almost every pair of eyes in the line was watching, curious to know what it was that he had done, yet also hopeful that nothing would be found and the man would get to live. A guard climbed in through the back, disappearing behind the folds of cloth while others checked underneath the cart and any other nooks that could hide whatever they were looking for. After several minutes that stretched on for the longest time, the guard emerged, a scowl on his face.

“There’s nothing out of the ordinary in the wagon sir.”

Naer’s expression turned thoughtful before he turned to Maveril, who was still on the ground clutching his side in agony. With a booted foot, he turned him over onto his back before grinding his heel into his stomach, leaning over him with a look of menace in his eyes but that same casual smile still on his mouth. The man gave a cry of pain, begged for him to stop, but Naer continued.

“Now isn’t this interesting? Where are they, Mr. Maveril? Did you use a
Concealment Charm? You know any run of the mill witch could break it?” he purred, “And they have a very distinctive feel in their energy, I’m sure you could sense it as well. In fact anyone could. I bet we have one in this line right now.”

Golden eyes flicked outwards and he swept over the crowd. Elaine felt herself go pale and she begged the gods again for her to not be chosen. Naer pushed himself upright, using the foot that was buried into Maveril’s gut to do so. He moved, slowly, in a predatory fashion that let everyone in the crowd know that they were sheep to be slaughtered should he will it. She looked down, using her long curly hair to shield her face, hoping that he would not notice her. Elaine did not want to be the one to help dig this man’s grave.

But where she was blessed the first time, it was not to be the second. His booted feet stopped before her and there was a moment of silence, as she stared at the cobblestones, hoping he would pass her by, that he was looking at someone else. She felt a hand fist tightly into her hair, pain blossoming across her scalp as he hauled her to her feet. Elaine suddenly found herself staring into a pair of golden eyes that cut straight through her.
A satisfied smile curled on his mouth before he laughed sharply in her face when he saw the golden ring around the edge of her iris that marked her as a witch.

“Yes….not very attractive but you’ll do.”

Suddenly Elaine was so very glad to have her plain features, knowing that had she been beautiful, he likely would have had his way with her after all of this was said and done. But the terror was still clutching her tightly as he shoved her towards the cart, the young witch nearly tripping over her feet in the process. Naer took a firm hold of her arm and forced her into the back of the wagon, where nothing but wooden crates met her gaze. As far as she could tell there was nothing else being held for transport.

“Break the charm.” Naer commanded, his eyes staying fixed upon her.

The raven-haired witch took a shuddering breath, preparing herself for what she had to do, trying to fight down the fear that threatened to claw it’s way out of her throat in the form of a cry. Elaine was horrified to find herself hoping that he really was hiding something and that she would find it. Because if he truly was innocent and there was nothing hidden here in the wagon, Naer would not only kill Maveril, but would also kill her for suspected aid of a criminal. Or at least that’s what he would likely claim it to be.

Elaine bit her lower lip and tapped into the power she felt buzzing beneath her skin.It’s intoxicating power called to her, begged her to give it shape and this time she would. It flowed to her fingertips, her hair rising slightly from the summoning of her magic. She focused, thinking on what she wanted in this scenario before murmuring the incantation she needed.

“Rivelare.”

There was a rush of magic, oozing to the surface of her skin, misty and surreal; it was as blue as crystal waters. It whispered to her and flooded the back of the wagon, slowly settling over all corners as her hair raised and floated from the energy she was wielding. Three images flickered into sight before fading away as if they never were. Her heart dropped because of many things. The first was that it was clear that there were people being smuggled out of the city and they would be killed. The second was because her spell had not quite worked as it was supposed to so she would have to recast it with more energy behind it. Ever since she had bound her power to water from the Elemental magic branch, any other spells she cast were significantly weaker than they would have been.

If she failed at this ritual, then she would also be killed. Yet if she succeeded, four people, who did not deserve it, were going to die. Guilt gnawed sharply at her, reminding her painfully that she was going to be responsible for getting these people murdered. Elaine stopped, the thought of another beings metaphorical blood on her hands made her sick, made her doubt if she could really go through with this. Could she really just throw away the lives of innocent people to protect herself? Was she truly that selfish?

“Well, little witch?” asked Naer impatiently, “Can you do it or can’t you?”

Those words from the man looming behind her made her realize that she was willing to go through with this. Elaine shut her eyes, reaching deep into her magic again feeling it thrumming beneath her skin. Strength flooded her and as she called out for the power she would need to cast the spell, her hair became a raven storm around her face and head. Light gathered around her hands, the glow growing steadily brighter and brighter as she called upon more power.

Elaine was never given the opportunity to finish for suddenly something very hard slammed against the side of her face, right at her temple. A million white stars burst before her eyes and the pain settled deep into her skull, the world spinning violently as she toppled to the ground. The wooden floor of the wagon smacked harshly against her cheekbone. She lay there dazed as there was a commotion, screams and cries, yells and laughter around her. When at last her head cleared, she rose unsteadily and hopped out of the wagon only to stop at the terrible sight before her.

The three that had been hiding were wood elves, a family and they were now on their knees along with Maveril, Naer standing before them, looking very pleased with himself. One of the elves was a man, the father and husband, he was looking haggard, bloody and it was clear that he had been the one to strike Elaine. The woman next to him was the mother, while she looked unharmed overall, her eyes were wide with terror, whimpers coming out of her mouth, growing louder when Naer grinned at her. Her stomach rolled in nausea when she saw that there was a son, maybe fifteen, kneeling next to the mother.

‘What have I done?’ Elaine thought, feeling disgusted with herself.

She hoped so very desperately that they wouldn’t kill the boy, that he would get off with some jail time, but she knew she was only lying to herself. Naer would kill them, whether it was here, on the execution block or back at the prison, they all would die. Elaine found herself unable to look away when the dark elf nodded at a nearby guard who then walked over to the battered father and used his sword to cleave into the man’s neck. A red fountain burst forth from his skin, spraying onto the cobblestone. Pandemonium broke loose then, the mother screaming in horror. The young boy leapt to his feet, a cry of rage escaping him.

It surprised everyone how fast he was for he had prized a Griffon’s sword from its sheath faster than the owner could do anything about it. He rushed forward, hefting a blade that was far too heavy for him before he too was struck down. Elaine covered her mouth to muffle the scream that was bubbling up her throat when the young boy fell to the ground, still alive, a gaping wound in his stomach. Naer watched with no remorse as another guard stepped forward to finish off the boy. The elven adolescent gave a pleading cry, begging the guard to not kill him but it was fruitless. It was then that the mother screamed again and threw herself ontop of her son, shielding him from harm but only had a blade sink through her body and into the child she had tried so hard to protect.

Maveril, who had stayed out of the fray, was actually now only a few feet from Elaine, advancing towards her, a look of pure rage across his face. She could only watch with wide eyes as the man who sought to punish her for exposing the family and himself advanced menacingly towards her. He lunged then, lips pulled up in a snarl, hands outstretched but he never reached her. Naer appeared behind him in an impossible time. It was only because of his abilities as a dark elf that he was able to get there so quickly and his massive sword buried into his side.

The middle-aged gentleman fell over then, clutching his stomach as blood seeped through his clothing and pooled onto the ground. Blood was spattered across Elaine’s face, speckling her light tunic and breeches, her frame trembling as she tried to take in the horrible scene that had unfurled before her. Maveril looked up at her from the ground, his hatred showing no bounds as his life faded away from him.

“You…!” he spat weakly, dying then with an unfinished sentence on his lips.

Elaine felt her legs give out from under her and she collapsed to her knees on the ground, blue eyes staring down at the man who had died before her with an unfinished proclamation of loathing, his eyes still wide open. The world had slowed to a crawl for her and she felt a sob stick in her throat.

Slowly, dazedly, she brought her gaze upwards until she was looking up at Naer, his sword propped against his shoulder. It deeply disturbed her how casual the captain looked, as if he had not cut down a living being but had merely just wacked a training dummy a few times. His eyes flicked to hers, watching for a moment before he smirked, gave a soft chuckle and turned his back on her, no longer deeming her worthy of his time.

Her day became a whirl after this. She barely remembered pulling out her license to show to the guards letting people out of the gates. Hardly noticed when they snickered at her state of shock and made a rude comment about her unattractive face. Elaine lived almost as if a ghost, walking in a daze, mechanically gathering the herbs on the edge of Honoum forest that she needed. She did not hear the wind, smell the trees or see the sky in its gorgeous shroud of cerulean, flecked with the occasional small grey clouds.
Time passed by quickly and she soon found herself back in the safety of her shop, dropping her sack of fresh ingredients on the counter.

She stood there for a moment before she sat upon a chair at her work station and buried her face with in her hands, feeling her eyes sting with salty tears. Elaine fought back a shuddering sob, trying to keep her composure but found herself unable to do so because every time she blinked she could see Maveril dying on the ground, looking up at her with rage filled eyes tinged with one other emotion; betrayal. The harder she fought to keep back her sorrow, her guilt, the more she struggled to control it, the more it slipped away, as if she were squeezing tightly on a fistful of sand. Elaine cried, choking back sobs when she couldn’t stop thinking about how it was her fault. She got an innocent man and a family killed.

“Corine save me…” growled an irritable voice from the stairway in the back of
the shop, “I already told you woman, I don’t know where she went and I don’t know when she’ll be back. Come back some other time. And in that next time, kindly don’t come and harass my person unless you plan to purchase something.”

Elaine hastily wiped her tears away when she heard her roommate, Isaac. The shop she ran also doubled as her living quarters, and the dour alchemist she could hear from the back stairway lived in his own shop upstairs. Together they paid the coin that was required to live in the building. Isaac was difficult to like at best since he seemed to hate all other people on even his better days. Elaine even suspected that she was the closest person he’s ever had to a friend. And they weren’t that close. He kept anyone at arm’s length and she always wondered why he seemed to harbor such a deep and intense dislike for people.

Two people emerged in the doorway, one of them was Isaac. He was about 5’10, blonde hair tied back in a low ponytail and his eyes were a piercing green that reminded Elaine of freshly grown grass. The alchemist was, in fact, a very handsome man but in her personal opinion she could never find him attractive for the hateful personality he wielded like a blade was potent enough to kill any possible appeal that he could have held. His dour behavior went far beyond broody and she often found herself frustrated with him as he often was with her.

Next to the alchemist who lives upstairs was an acquaintance of hers, Arania. She was a witch, like Elaine, but where the black haired woman lacked a pretty face, Arania was stunning. Her frame was leaning on the tall side for a woman but most of the height came from seemingly never ending legs that could be seen beneath her loosely fitting dress that emphasized her slender figure. Her skin had a kiss of gold, bestowed by the sun and her birth that made her seem to glow. Elaine often felt that her own skin was pasty and sickly looking. Like Isaac, she also had blonde hair, although hers was significantly longer in length.

Arania turned away from Isaac and brought her hazel eyes over to Elaine, who had risen from her seat. A bright look appeared across her face and she bound forward, blonde curls bouncing jauntily before she embraced her. Elaine smiled weakly and gently patted her on the back, feeling both uncomfortable and at ease with in her hug. After a moment, Arania pulled away, putting her hands on her shoulders and held her at arm’s length, hazel eyes, rimmed with the tell tale gold, studying her face.

“Oh Elaine, you look awful. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing Arania.” She lied, her voice sounding almost broken, “Just this city is all.”

She seemed to believe the lie, for then she nodded sagely and said, “I understand. It does that to all of us. One way or another. We just have to hold it together and hope that things will get better.”

‘And how,’ Elaine thought pessimistically, ‘will this possibly get better? We can’t do anything. Naer ensured that and the rebels only make things worse. No one will help us when we have such valuable trade to offer to other cities. We have been abandoned.’

It was hard to not be bitter at the other cities that had at one point or another sworn that they would offer their help to Mayred should they need it. Yet now, when they needed assistance more than ever before, their supposed allies were nowhere to be seen. Elaine did not understand why the royal house of Aenoch, the rulers of this continent, had suddenly become absent and let this man do what he wished. She looked back to Arania.

“Yeah…” she said, not at all having hope that things would get better, “Are you here for your water charms?”

“Yes.” Arania smiled, “The tenant upstairs just keeps causing water to leak into my shop and I don’t understand just what he’s doing up there. I’ve tried talking to him but he won’t listen. Well at any rate, it gives you the business you need. You are one of the better water charm crafters in this city.”

Elaine smiled faintly but gratefully, “Thanks Arania.”

The dark-haired witch turned and approached her counter and found a basket with Arania’s order in it, her name neatly written on a scrap of paper on top of it. She took the basket and grabbed the four Well Stones that she had created that week and dropped them into Arania’s hand. The woman smiled gratefully and put them away safely in her pouch tied to her belt.

“Thanks Elaine. You are such a great help!”

She reached into her other pouch and produced a couple of gold coins and dropped them into her hand. Elaine gratefully accepted them and tucked the money away into her pocket. Arania gave an encouraging smile and nodded. The dark-haired woman nodded back but was not at all comforted or encouraged by her acquaintances’ gesture but she did appreciate that she tried. Relief rushed through her when Arania said her farewell and left the shop.

A heavy breath escaped her and she slumped into a chair, hanging her head. Everything seemed to press down on her, the air, the roof, all of the city and it was crushing. Elaine needed to forget. So badly. She caused the death of those people at the gate and it was suffocating her. Burying her face in her hands, she tried in vain to ignore the presence of Isaac, knowing he was still in the doorway. Yet at the same time, Elaine did not want to bear the terrible weight of this burden on her shoulders alone.

“So where were you?” Isaac asked sharply, irritation still clinging to him from his interaction with Arania.

With a shuddering sigh, she at last lifted her face from the safety of her hands where she could hide from the world. Suddenly everything within her shop, once so ordinary and familiar spoke soft, traitorous words, whispering to her what she had done. What she had caused. Unable to take the silent accusations of her belongings, she stood up abruptly, nearly toppling the chair as she did so.

“Out.” She said quietly, not elaborating any further.

Isaac, however, was not satisfied with that answer and cut off her path. In her emotionally frayed state, it made her impatient and she glared at the alchemist who had blocked her way to the door. He did not seem affected and stared down at her expectantly. Elaine sighed.

“I went to gather ingredients. Happy?”

Her tone was sharper than normal but she did not care. Isaac was not her mother and it was certainly none of his business if she left for a few hours or not. But the dour shop owner from upstairs felt differently.

“Not quite since your absence left me dealing with that infuriating woman.”

“Isaac,” she sighed impatiently, “everyone infuriates you. Why do you even own a shop if you don’t even like dealing with people?”

“I do not have to provide you with any answers. Why don’t you own a sign that informs your customers that you have stepped out?”

“Why are you starting a fight that doesn’t even need to take place?” Elaine snapped, “You know, despite the fact that I keep quiet about it most of the time, your attitude is really annoying.”

The blonde man did not appear happy with her words yet Elaine could not bring herself to care. She put up with him far more than he deserved, in her opinion, and he was being intolerable, even more so than usual. Isaac drew nearer, his face almost murderous with dissatisfaction, irritation. Yet the young witch did not back down, stood her ground and glared at him, making it very clear that she was not moving from her stance on this.

“Just stop it.” She growled, “I know this game, you’re try to intimidate me and I don’t want to play. Not today, Isaac. Not today.”

He stopped and then his lip curled, “You are not as strong as you make yourself out to be, Elaine. Just go drown your sorrows in the pub, like you always do.”

Those words stabbed harshly at her heart, and she found her eyes stinging with tears. But she did not crumple beneath the guilt, the weight of her sadness or wounded emotions, instead she gave a cry that was a sound mixed with sorrow and rage. Then she slapped the alchemist as hard as she could. There was a resounding crack throughout the air and in the moment of silence that ensued, Isaac’s head turned to the side from the blow, she took that opportunity to push by him and rushed out the door.

The powerful tang of ale would be her comfort on this dark day.

I love it. When you publish it send me a pm so I can buy it please!!!!!

Wow...................
I am seriously speechless. I think you just gave me Writers' Block lol
That was awesome and you better get a title so I know what book I'm looking for when it's done xD

You are very welcome!

I understand where you are coming from with friends and family. All mine say my stories are good, but they are biased. It wasn't until I received a few PM of people wanting to write with me that I realized my potential.

It's weird how a total stranger can make you feel like your dream is possible, yet a familiar face can bring you down with the same words.