“Long, long ago, before the gods made their Will be known to their beloved followers, there was a fading empire whose ruler had died without naming an heir. The twin children of the former ruler struggled to survive on and off the battlefield until the gods intervened and cursed them.
‘Look upon the devastation your feuding has left across this country! The young princess’ poison and disease sickens the land while the prince’s warmongering has contaminated the rivers and ocean, and scarred the land with countless bodies. There is nothing to rule but a kingdom of dust and ash!’
The twins were unrepentant against divine intervention, and so they were cursed. However, as it was not only them that caused this pain to their country, their curse would spread to their people forevermore.
‘For you so loved the darkness and secrets, they will be your salvation. You will reside in the dark and fear the light, for your sins and desires can not survive under it.’
And so the princess became the god-ancestor of the Dokkalfar, leading her people into the dark and shadows.
‘And you! You whose sole love was the slaughter of your own people in the open, the day will bear witness to your crimes. You will reside in the open and loathe the shadow so all can bear witness to your crimes of your fellow beings.’
And so the prince became the god-ancestor of the Ljosalfar, who created the moving towns and merchant princes of the roving caravans.
To this day, the Dokkalfar and Ljosalfar are at odds, each blaming the other for their corruption and change. The descendents of the Goddess of Shadows and the God of Light, as the two species call their shared semi-divinities, continue to thrive, and there seems to be no end in sight.
~ Child of Light and Child of Shadows: A Brief Summary On The Origin of the Ljosalfar and Dokkalfar species
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Serena sighed deeply as the small group settled down in a storage building beside the mansion. They had all agreed that such talk could be considered socially questionable, and so they bunkered down here.
The storage building for the mansion was rather spacious. It had been sealed, though Amalafein had opened it, and even a casual glance around showed it was more for holding wealth and resources than precious food. Sturdy shelves and bookcases lined the walls, each filled to the brim with books and tools as if on display. Stray gold coins glittered in the back of the storage as a wall of safes stood out in a way that seemed at odds with the peasant village. Most of the tools and relics carried the presence of aether, confirming they were magical in nature. Artwork was spread across the room, and were no doubt far more expensive than they had any right to be. Near the entrance was a hatch that likely led to a basement where she could only imagine what the Dokkalfar did away from the eyes of the villagers.
However, she didn’t have long to think about that as Amalafein lifted open the hatch, revealing the stairs that descended into the darkness. Faint light, blue as a cloudless spring sky, flickered to life along the walls to provide light enough to travel into the waiting abyss.
The Dokkalfar offered her his hand as he led the way down, and after a moment’s hesitation, Serena accepted the gesture. This seemed to startle Amalafein as he just stared at her in awe. It might have been a trick of the light, but his face seemed to darken slightly at her near thoughtless acceptance of his generosity.
Was there some kind of societal incident that she just caused by such a harmless gesture?
For a second, his hand tightened itself around her own, as if to prove that she was indeed real.
Under the magical lights, their joined hands seemed to palely glow.
How peculiar.
Ashen gray skin blinded with her own pale skin in the darkness, and all she could do was follow him.
“Oh! This is unusual. Dokkalfar normally don’t have such an obvious chamber in the settlements where they cohabit with other species. Fascinating.” Kalani’s words were rapidly paced, as if he barely had the time to breathe between the thoughts racing through his skull.
Amalafein barely cast him a glance. “It is for my duties that this place was built.”
“Ah! Professional torturer?” Kalani asked. His tone was carefree, as if this was a normal question for him.
“I am a [Huntsman] in the eyes of my kind and the gods.”
It might have been her imagination, but Kalani seemed to pale at the revelation. He certainly deemed it necessary to change the subject. “I assume you will bring us to a room where we can prepare the corpses and discuss things in peace. It would be quite troublesome for you to get rid of our bodies down here.”
“It is better to do what you wish to do here than the village square,” Amalafein replied. “If I killed you two, I would then need to eliminate the village and the Dokkalfar tending to the spiders associated with it. It would be a hassle, and one I want to avoid.”
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The trip down the stairs only lasted a few minutes, but once they reached the bottom, Serena could see it leveled out into a web of hallways branching off the main one. Doors covered in some runic language that she had a vague idea about their purpose were placed between the underground passages. Amalafein led them into a room off to the right side of the stairs, and let go of her hand as the room brightened.
There was a raised sitting area in a corner where luxurious sofas and chairs were positioned, with a clear view of the room. Dark wooden tables and a stone container that seemed chilled by some kind of magic were near the place. Three stone slabs stood out as restraints hung loosely from the sides. Long dried blood stained the white stone, scarring it with the evidence of what went on in this room.
People watched the torture and interrogations like they were a play here. Perhaps it is a cultural thing. If so, it would be wise to inquire about it more with Amalafein.
Serena knew that her upbringing beside the likes of Veles Silvertongue and Dardanos Emrys had affected the way she viewed things. Anyone in this world would be overwhelmed by a wave of loathing, of fear and despair, upon entering the underground room here. However, she was just filled with curiosity about a culture she knew nothing about, and an urge to discover more about this world.
Amalafein’s mere presence would sicken a normal villager, like Helgi. The knowledge of what he had no doubt done in this room, and under the gaze of others, would have frightened her into near senselessness.
Am I lacking in the sensibilities of a normal young woman? It is true that I am lacking certain aspects that one could attribute to womanhood physically, but am I not whole mentally as well? A normal man would no doubt have the same revulsion to this behavior as I imagine Helgi would, but my mind is crystal clear.
It was not the first time she had encountered a torture room, and she herself had been educated in some forms. Mental and emotional manipulation and distress created just as effective, if not more so, results from physical coercion. It also left less of a mess to clean up.
Yes, there was something wrong with her.
Serena sighed heavily as that thought settled in her mind. I’ll just blame big brothers Veles and Dardanos for whatever harm my time with them caused my delicate mental state. Everything is their fault and I wash my hands off what might happen because of my oddities.
“Is the room that pleasing to your eyes?” Amalafein questioned. A sly smile spread across his face as his lilac eyes swept over her face.
“It is.” There was enough light to be pleasant. The furniture looked comfortable, and her only concern was about the unsanitary situation with the blood. That would require a lot of specially made alchemical solutions to clean up.
There was a muffled chuckle coming from Kalani, who was checking the integrity of the stone slab for their work.
Amalafein seemed to be taken off guard by her answer. “Aren’t you scared that people were horrendously tortured and then killed here for other’s amusement?”
Ah, that is his concern. Serena firmly shook her head. “Not at all, for several reasons. You have no apparent reason to torture me. The Dokkalfar matron ruling this city is dead, so she can not order my torture. And the people who live here are too busy surviving and picking up their shattered lives to harm their only savior. As of this moment, this is just a room like any other to me. Should the need to torture me come, I will advise the torturer on how to properly manage their tools and clean up after themselves instead of leaving blood splatter around as a hopeful scare tactic.”
The Dokkalfar stared at her in shock, before running a hand through his hair. “You have a dokkalfar’s spirit, if not the flesh.”
Serena pushed back some of her long red hair out of her face and behind one ear. “I will take that as a compliment. Thank you.”
Everything she seemed to do regarding this elf seemed to catch him off guard, and it was actually becoming something of a game to see what spooked him next.
“Amalafein, bring down the corpses of the bandits. Or at least the most whole ones. Those that are deemed unsuitable we will discard in the forest as you suspected the villagers would do.”
This request of hers seemed to stabilize him, and he left. Still, she couldn’t resist thanking him. That actually caused him to nearly run up the stairs as if he was trying to escape her.
The image of that was too hilarious not to giggle at.
It was Kalani who pulled her out of her brief burst of laughter. “You certainly enjoy messing with that, Dokkalfar.”
Serena turned to face him and tried to understand what he meant. She went over her actions and choice of words, and nothing she said was particularly cruel or manipulative. Everything she did was downright pleasant and caring in a way.
“You don’t know?” Her companion seemed to be amused by this more than anything. “Well, you will find out eventually. Their culture and society are rather twisted, with layers of expectation and traditional views that dictate their existence. Though their cousins, the Ljosfalfar are no different in that regard.”
“I must have made him uncomfortable.”
“You did, but not in the way you think.” Kalani leaned against the stone slab, his gaze somewhat hazy as he seemed to be trying to figure out what to say. “The Goddess of Shadows, as the Dokkalfar call their so-called god-ancestor, created a more matriarchal civilization. Over the millennia, this solidified into dokkalfar tending to see themselves as superior from other races. In honor of their ancestress, female dokkalfar are more valued compared to male. This tends to counter the Ljosalfar which are often the opposite. Women of his species would never be kind, caring or even polite to his gender. Their orders are absolute for a male dokkalfar and to even think of questioning them was punishable by torture or even death.”
“And because I treated him politely and with respect, this contrasted with everything he knew.” Her decision to treat him with respect to not isolate a potential ally seemed to have been a poor decision. Serena didn’t regret it, since it was better to be polite until one knew another better, or at least their personality, to ensure she wouldn’t be attacked for some unknown reason. “Should I change how I talk to him?”
“No.”
That wasn’t what she expected he would say. “Can you elaborate on that, Kalani?”
“I find it hilarious that your polite and even friendly way of bonding with him is causing him such emotional turmoil. He doesn’t know how to act, so he will likely fall back on his training and upbringing. His role is one of more accursed and set in its ways and duties, which would be a delightful contrast to what he might genuinely feel.” Kalani waved his hand, evidently done with this conversation. “Enough about the Huntsman. Now, tell me more about your plan for the bandits.”