"Keep that away from me."

If hate was a tangible emotion, it would've burnt my entire existence to the ground by now. I had no idea this much hate was humanly possible.

But well… she isn't exactly a human now is she?

"Your voice is abrading. It must be painful to even talk." I replied. Pausing for a while, I spoke again, my tone getting a little sarcastic. "Now you don't expect me to give you water with a WQI score of 100 while being a war prisoner. Well, kind of war prisoner—-"

As I was talking, she spat again on the floor. However instead of actual saliva, it was composed of more blood than any other thing.

"See? Spitting everywhere is another leading contribution to having a parched throat."

"You talk too much." She spoke between ragged breaths. "You are my persecutor. And this is not your first time." She tried to scream, but all that came out was a frightened whimper. "Put me out of my misery… be done with it."

With that flask still in my hand, I walked closer. This time she didn't look down. I could feel her breaths over my chin. "I do it out of obligation. Not because I enjoy it." I replied before placing the mouth of the flask on the lower side of her lips. "Drink up. This might be the last time you ever put something in your mouth."

Her eyes flicked from my face down to the flask. As if swallowing her honour, she closed her eyes—-perhaps offering a silent prayer—-and then parted her lips just enough.

Tilting the flask, a steady stream of water cascaded into her parched mouth, filling the interrogation room with the sound of loud, desperate gulps. Her throat worked furiously, evident from the rapid rise and fall of her throat bulge. I continued pouring it until she had emptied the whole flask in one go.

I don't blame her. It's been almost two days.

Not a single drop of water leaked elsewhere. It was surprising. Honestly.

Once I felt that her breath had returned to normal, I stood in front of her. "Need something to eat?"

"Why are you doing this?" She asked and for the first time in a long time what she said was not dipped in potent venom.

Disregarding her question, I snapped my fingers. "See? You can talk normally. Isn't it better than just cursing and spitting and causing opportunities for self-harm?" I spoke without waiting for an answer. "Also, your voice sounds a lot better now."

Her sharp features tensed and the sound of her teeth grinding filled the ominously silent room.

"You are having filthy thoughts about me, yes? That is why you are showing me your pathetic mercy!" She paused and her voice dropped down. "I knew it. You humans are filthy to your core."

Raising my hands in jest, I shot back. "Hey, not our fault your men have a low libido."

The chains clattered as she tried to jump at me. Trails of fresh blood seeped from inside the Arcanum restricting cuffs. Guess she is really sensitive about her people. Taking a mental note to not even joke about her people anymore, I fidgeted awkwardly around for a while.

When I finally remembered what I was doing, I walked over to the table and picked up the biggest knife I could find. As I turned around, I saw dread in her eyes. Up until this point the torture was not serious enough to cut body parts. But seeing a bigger knife in my hand, she recoiled.

Walking back to her, I flashed the blade in the dim lightning. Swallowing the lump in her throat audibly, she tensed up her muscles.

A smirk formed on my lips as I took out an apple from the inside of my pocket. She looked at me, and then down at the fruit. Using the knife, I sliced the apple into equal sized pieces.

As you would expect, she started struggling again. What a stubborn woman.

Holding her small head from the top with my hand—which fitted surprisingly nice into my grip—I held it in place.

"Look, I am no doctor, but heightened state of anxiety can increase sensitivity to pain and make the experience feel more overwhelming than it's intended to be." I paused and looked down at her body. Her chest caved in and her elbow did so as well, as if trying to hide herself from my sight.

Looking back up, I spoke again. "Your body is exhausted. There is no adrenaline to cushion the pain you are about to experience. Your whole body is shaking and your psyche—despite how tough you act—is obviously rattled." My words came out harsher than I had intended to, however, I at least wanted to do this much.

A leopard can't change its spots, but that doesn't justify not wanting to do something good. Despite how feeble… how minute that deed is.

"Do not touch me, heathen." She hissed.

"Pfft–" Well don't get me wrong. I am not trying to look down on her, or make fun of her. However, her usage of such words is just funny at this point. I do get why she says all this. After Earth and Eden separated, people have used these terms for people of other religions as well. However, hearing it in real life is just funny. "Sorry. But you should realise at this point that calling me mudwalker or heathen, or insulting the four gods we worship won't get on my nerves." I paused, letting my words sink in. "I am not going to kill you due to losing myself to anger."

The colour from her face seemed to flush out. I didn't know that someone could get this pale. It's genuinely surprising.

"Well then. Here you go." I spoke after a bit too many moments of extremely uncomfortable—no, grim silence. Her head was hung down as I feeded her a few slices of apple. She ate them silently, without making much sound.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

It was quite clear it was a fruit she had not tried before, however, I don't think that is a matter of concern for her right now.

I wanted to convince myself that she was a poor girl stranded in a different world, landing into the hands of people she would not have thought of, even in her nightmares. However, too much empathy was unneeded.

Would they have spared Arthur? If– only if… he had failed to defeat the giant and the dark elf, and had been captured, would he have been spared?

The thought of Arthur going through the same torture, pain and potential ridicule sent an unsettling feeling wash over my heart. He was just a kid. No kid should be made to go through such things. But at the same time, this girl was a kid too. Yes, sure, in human years she was perhaps more than a 1000 years old, but she was barely older than Arthur in physical and mental capabilities.

Looking down, I saw the bone in her left foot mangled.

My jaw clenched itself. I hate doing this.

"You know what's funny." Trying to shrug off my own thoughts that were debilitating my will to act on mom's direct orders, I tried to lighten up my mood. Even for a little while. Not looking back at the girl, I continued to talk, walking over to the table. Spinning around, I took a seat over the creaking surface. "The way you call me—us humans as Mudwalkers, we also have a term."

"That woman has made it quite clear what it is. You call us monkeys." As if trying to hide the fear of her impending doom, she smirked. Or at least tried to, resulting in a fusion between a smirk and a downward curve. It was quite hard to make sense of whether she was trying to look down at me or hold back tears. "As dull as ever."

I tilted my head in confusion. After a while of emptily staring at each other, she looked back down, averting her gaze from me. Understanding that she had misinterpreted what I was going to say, I let out a chuckle before combing my fingers through my hair and slicking them back. "Oh, I was not talking about you." I waved my hand, dismissing what she had said. "What I was saying was that just as you call us humans as Mudwalkers, we also call other humans—those that don't have Arcanum—as Mudbloods. Weird how derogatory words start and end in mud. It's not even that bad, to be fair!"

Her features scrunched up. "Some humans… don't have Arcanum? Liar!"

I felt my features relax. "Why would I lie about something like that? You must already know, this world didn't have Arcanum to begin with." I shrugged my shoulders. "If each and every human knew about Arcanum, it would've been exhausted from Earth long ago."

She frowned. Well I guess it must sound selfish to her. Monopolising Arcanum to a few humans.

"That boy… just who was he?" She asked, her frown deepening. "Are all humans this strong?"

Oh that cheeky boy! Sure left a deep imprint on this elf maiden, heheheh! "Oh that. He's my pookie bear!" I exclaimed, raising my fist into the air.

...…silence~

I don't even want to look back at her to see what kind of disgusted face she's making.

"Ehem, anyways. What I meant was that he's my cut—, he's my younger brother. Yes. As for your second question…" I paused and flared my chest proudly. "No. Definitely not. Well Arcanum user his age can't measure up to him. In any way possible." Thumping on my chest with pride, I exclaimed. "You were just too unlucky to have encountered him of all people in the world."

She bit her lower lip. However, it seemed like there was some kind of weight that had been removed from her shoulders. "I see…"

"You seem to have eased up with me." I spoke, looking at her from my spot. Her entire body tensed up. "Which kind of makes it even harder for me, haha—" Sheepishly scratching my nape, I stood up. "I haven't studied about species in Eden, but can you actually manipulate plants?"

She looked at me in an absurd way. "No."

"Oh, fair. I guess movies are just watered down stories from old times. You can't even call them diluted. It's a whole different thing now."

"Mo…vies?"

I was flabbergasted. No way they don't have movies. "You seriously don't have movies and stuff? What have you Edeners been doing for the last few million years or so??"

The same frown reappeared on her face. "Few million…?"

Something popped into my mind. Like a single cracker that inaugurates the many more that follow right after on Nyttårsaften's(1) night. Getting up from my place on the table, I quickly walked up to her. "How much time has passed since Eden and Earth were separated?"

"You and your damned Gods stole this land from us. It was not separated. It was torn off our world-" She hissed. But that was not important.

"How long has it been?" I asked, holding her by the chin and placing the needle in the middle of her lower lip. "You know this can be averted. You have nothing of value. But this can save you." I tried to talk her into it. Bringing in factors that she couldn't deny. "And if you tell me a few things, I might ask Arthur—my brother to save your friend. You know, the dark elf…"

Her eyes sparkled with joy. "She—she's alive…?"

"She is. But she can't talk. Because of that nothing can stop her execution." I pressed. "Except this vital fact."

Her jaw clenched. "A few hundred thousand years. Give or take."

The news felt like the blow of a hammer against my head. That would mean that every day he spends inside the Frontier would be days… weeks, hell even months!

The needle dropped from my hands as I turned around.

A chuckle filled the room as I moved towards the door.

"Your little brother went inside this… Frontier, yes? That means he is in Eden."

My head snapped back at her. I have no idea what kind of face I was making, but I was sure it was not pleasant. Quite evident from how taken aback she was. As if trying to rub salt in my wound, she laughed as hard as she could.

"If he is in Eden, he is not making it back alive." She stretched her neck forward, in my direction. "You said we were unlucky to run into him, right?" Her grin only widened. "Your brother was the lucky one to run into people who were not even apprentices. But that was just fate…" Her words were accentuated by the flickering light overhead. "...he will die. Tortured, torn to bits and his body parts displayed in the main square of the Holy Capital." There was a disgusting amount of relief in her voice. "Our deaths here will not be in vain. Hundreds, if not thousands of proud warriors of Eden will be waiting for him on the other side."

I felt my eyes narrow. "Do not underestimate humans."

That was the only thing I managed to talk out loud before shutting the door and running upstairs.

So much for being a nice guy…

…maybe this hate between our species really is incurable.

Despite how fast I was running, my mind was torn between two things. Fear for Arthur. I couldn't care less about Michael. And the disappointment at the elf's behaviour. I tried to show her not all humans were alike…

I shouldn't be so negative. We have trapped her and are torturing her. Of course she wouldn't think of us as anything.

As I ran inside the house, I soon spotted my mother. As I was running in her direction, she suddenly turned and pointed her finger in my direction. An invisible forcefield punched into my guts like a car. Absorbing the impact by just coating my body in Arcanum, I kept myself from falling.

"Take your shoes off. I don't want monkey blood on my rug—"

Interrupting her I spoke out of turn.

"Arthur…he's walked straight into an ambush."

The Arcanum build up from her body was bile inducing and I almost fell to my knees. "Where is Aksel?" She demanded, her confident demeanour breaking.

"He went to Fjellborg a while ago…"

She was shaking. Every muscle in her body twitching. "Bring him back. Bring me my Arthur." She walked over to me and grabbed me by the collar. "Tell Aksel, I need my Arthur back. I am not going to let him waste just like this." An intangible weight pressed down on me. "Tell him to retrieve Arthur right now. Or I am leaving this place and going for him myself."

I shuddered before taking a step back and getting out of her grasp. Taking the phone out of my pocket, I called my father.

This is bad. As if two heirs falling into an ambush was not bad enough, mother is threatening to leave the house…

…this might be the end of our world.