She walked toward me, each step deliberate and unhurried. The knives she carried caught the moonlight, their edges gleaming dangerously, while her wheat-colored hair shimmered with an almost ethereal glow. Her head tilted slightly, her piercing emerald eyes locked onto mine as though measuring the worth of her prey.
I remained still, watching, tense and wary. I had not been able to track her movements when she dispatched Zee. Her speed and precision were leagues above my own. It left me no choice—I had to rely on my black flames, the only weapon in my arsenal.
The dark fire roared to life around me, licking hungrily at the ground as it enveloped my form. The elf stopped, her head tilting further, her expression one of idle curiosity.
“Never seen that before,” she murmured, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
Then she moved.
Her silhouette blurred as she appeared at my side, her dagger flashing. I spun, but not fast enough; the blade grazed my flank, then struck again and again in rapid succession. Streaks of pain followed each strike, the sting sharp and precise. She had targeted the gaps in my flames, the areas where my defenses were weakest. My sides burned, and blood trickled down my coat, staining the ground beneath me.
I retaliated with a blast of flames, spewing them from my mouth in a wide arc. The elf dodged effortlessly, leaping away as the fire ignited the forest floor. The black flames spread rapidly, hungrily devouring everything in their path. I tried to pull them back, but they resisted me, growing wilder with each passing second.
The elf circled me, her steps quick and nimble as she sought another opening. Her daggers gleamed ominously, their edges now warped and melted from the heat of my flames. Her expression, once calm, now carried a flicker of frustration.
She lunged again, this time aiming for my neck. I spun, narrowly avoiding the blade as it sliced past my mane. Acting on instinct, I lashed out with my hind legs, one hoof catching her wrist with a sickening crack.
The dagger fell from her hand, clattering to the ground. She hissed in pain, clutching her injured wrist as blood seeped from the wound. Her eyes burned with fury as she stepped back, her composure momentarily broken.
My mana reserves, however, were dwindling. The flames had taken on a life of their own, spreading beyond my control and draining my energy with every passing moment. Zee lay unconscious nearby, the encroaching fire creeping dangerously close to him.
I tried to pull the flames back once more, but they resisted all the more, hungry and wild. Panic flared as the realization struck—I couldn’t protect Zee and fight her at the same time.
The elf paused her attack, observing me carefully. My flames, though a formidable defense, wouldn’t last. My exhaustion was evident, and she knew it.
I made a decision. With a final burst of strength, I turned and ran toward Zee, releasing the flames around my head as I bit down on his tunic. Ignoring the sting of my wounds, I heaved him onto my back and bolted into the forest.
Behind me, the elf stood motionless, watching my retreat. Her gaze burned into my back, but she didn’t pursue.
I skidded to a halt at the edge of the clearing, unable to resist the urge to look back.
She knelt by Zee’s previous resting place, her hand extending toward the ground. I froze as she lifted the necklace, her bloodied fingers brushing its surface. The pendant flared to life, its runes glowing faintly in the firelight.
The elf hissed, jerking her hand back, but the connection had already been forged.
I mentally reached for the telepathic string, considering a new possibility. ‘Can you hear me?’
She held the pendant tightly, her emerald eyes narrowing as she stared at me. Slowly, deliberately, she tightened her grip on the artifact. The runes pulsed again, their glow intensifying.
As the necklace grew bright a sharp, pained yelp escaped her lips, as she dropped the necklace.
My vision began to blur, a sudden sense of vertigo overwhelmed me.
When my vision returned, I was no longer in the clearing. I stood, or rather, existed, at the elf’s side, though my body felt incorporeal. Around us, a fierce battle raged. A group of armored soldiers formed a protective circle, their shields raised as spells and arrows rained upon them. They stood against a mob of furious elves, their faces twisted with rage and bloodlust, and upon their foreheads lay a sinister rune.
“You dare stand against the Redwood family?” the young elf snarled. Her voice, filled with fury and pride, carried across the battlefield.
Her emerald eyes blazed as she glared at the leader of the attackers. He stepped forward, his expression dripping with mockery.
“What of it? You’re the last one left,” he sneered. His companions laughed cruelly, their jeers ringing out amidst the chaos.
“A great family was destroyed so easily,” he continued, his voice filled with scorn. “It seems you weren’t so great after all.”
Mana crackled in the air around the young elf as she clenched her fists, her fury palpable. “Have you all fallen for that witch’s seduction?” she spat, her voice trembling with rage.
Her words struck a nerve. The leader’s smirk twisted into a scowl. “You’ve just courted death,” he growled.
With a barked order, his followers surged forward, their weapons gleaming as they charged. The defenders braced themselves, their shields locking together, but the sheer number of attackers was overwhelming. Spells exploded across the battlefield, the ground shaking with their force.
The young elf’s mana surged, the air around her vibrating with power. She raised her hands, her voice trembling with emotion as she began to chant. The words, foreign and ancient, resonated through the battlefield, their meaning lost to me but their intent clear.
And then she vanished.
A moment later, a devastating gust of wind tore through the attackers, cutting through them like a blade. Bodies were hurled into the air, their forms shredded by the storm. Blood and mana sprayed across the battlefield as the chaos momentarily gave way to silence.
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At the epicenter of the storm stood the young elf, her hands still glowing with residual energy. Her emerald eyes scanned the carnage with cold determination.
But her victory was not complete. The few attackers who had survived her assault began regrouping, their shields raised in defense. The defenders, inspired by her power, launched their counterattack, engaging the remaining enemies in brutal combat.
The young elf moved like a tempest, her strikes precise and devastating. Yet, as she fought, a shadow fell over the battlefield.
A voice, smooth and feminine, echoed through the chaos. “How brutish.”
The air seemed to grow heavier, and a figure materialized from the shadows—a woman with an aura of unsettling power. Her hand stretched toward the young elf, her fingers curling around one of her horns.
With a resounding crack, her horn was broken.
The young elf screamed as her mana was also forcibly sealed, the vibrant glow around her hands snuffed out like a candle. The figure’s voice rang out again, cold and disdainful.
“Let a beast roam among beasts. Let the forest devour her.”
The memory shattered, the vivid scene dissolving into nothingness.
----------------------------------------
I gasped as my vision returned, my hooves sinking into the soft earth of the clearing. The elf stood before me, trembling as she picked up the necklace. Her breath came in ragged bursts, her shoulders rising and falling as though she had just lived the memory herself.
Her gaze shifted to me, and for a moment, her eyes burned with a feral madness. It was as though she could see into my mind, as though she knew I had witnessed something deeply personal—something she would rather keep buried.
The intensity of her gaze forced me to look away, but before I could act, the madness faded. Her shoulders slumped, and she let out a weary sigh. Slowly, she sank to the ground, leaning on one arm as though the weight of the memory had drained her entirely.
“Well,” she said at last, her voice quiet and hoarse, “what do you think?”
I hesitated, unsure how to respond. The memory had been raw and vivid, its pain still lingering in the air between us. I reached for the telepathic thread, searching for the right words.
‘...What a tragic tale,’ I said softly.
She scoffed, her laughter sharp and bitter. “Tragic? You don’t know me, much less care for the politics of the elves, and yet you claim it’s tragic? Is that pity?”
I held her gaze, unflinching. ‘I don’t care for the elves, nor would I care for one who just tried to kill me.’
I shook my head, the bitterness in my thoughts palpable. ‘But I do know betrayal. So does the little goblin lying on the ground—someone you clearly couldn’t care less about. The tragedy isn’t in the betrayal itself. It’s in the helplessness. In watching those who stabbed us in the back parade in victory while we’re forced to flee, painted as the guilty ones.’
Her expression shifted, curiosity replacing the weariness in her eyes. “What would a mundane beast know of betrayal?”
‘Mundane beast?’ I snorted. ‘Can you not tell I’m a unicorn?’
At that, she laughed—a mocking, boisterous sound. “A unicorn? I’ve run into some before, and let me tell you, a little implanted horn doesn’t make a horse a unicorn. You’re right, unicorns aren’t mundane beasts. But you? You are.”
Her words stung, but I couldn’t deny them. If she had truly encountered real unicorns, she would undoubtedly sense the difference in our nature.
She rose unsteadily to her feet, brushing dirt from her plain attire. “Well, I suppose you’ve made this night a little less insufferable.”
Walking back to her log, she glanced at the now-charred meat by the fire, untouched and ruined.
The Elf’s shoulders relaxed as she stood by the fire, the pendant clutched tightly in her hand. She glanced at the charred remains of the meat on the skewer, letting out a soft sigh before tossing it aside.
I stepped closer, my movements slow and deliberate. Her sharp gaze flicked to me briefly, her wariness returning for a moment. But then she shrugged and turned back to the fire. What could a mundane beast like me do to her?
Reaching into a small bag lying beside the log, she pulled out a handful of vegetables. Without looking at me, she extended them in my direction, her other hand fidgeting the pendant.
The aroma hit me first—earthy, fresh, and inviting. I leaned forward cautiously, my nostrils flaring as I sniffed. Satisfied, I bit into one. The flavors were incredible, a burst of sweetness and crispness unlike anything I’d tasted before. Before I realized it, I had devoured them all.
I began to feel the wounds on my side begin to heal at a rapid pace, the healing property of the vegetables undeniable.
“They’re the finest vegetables from my old garden,” she said, her tone neutral, though I caught the faintest trace of pride. “It seems you liked them.”
‘Do you have any more?’ I asked, licking my muzzle.
She shook her head. “No. That was the last of them. My offering to our truce.”
‘Truce?’ I repeated, tilting my head.
She nodded, sitting cross-legged by the fire. “You could’ve burnt us all to ash if you really wanted to, but you didn’t. And I didn’t follow through with killing you, even though I could’ve.” Her emerald eyes glinted in the firelight as she smirked. “I’d say that makes us even.”
I hesitated, mulling over her words. ‘Before I accept, tell me—do you know anything about the elves who attacked the goblin village?’
She picked up the skewer and chewed thoughtfully on a charred piece of meat, her gaze distant. ‘What would I know about a goblin village? Much less any conflict involving one?’ Her telepathic response was fluid, the smoothness of her tone contrasting sharply with Zee’s earlier struggles.
‘Zee lost his tribe to the elves,’ I said, glancing toward the unconscious goblin. ‘Try to understand his situation.’
Her brows furrowed, confusion flashing across her face. “You speak as though we’re going to be traveling together,” she said aloud, her tone skeptical. “Tonight’s the only night we’ll see each other.”
I could understand her reluctance. A journey with a horse and a goblin wouldn’t be her first choice. But Zee and I were weak, and this elf, even sealed, would be a valuable asset. The weak ought to stick together.
‘I know a way to break your seal,’ I said, my voice steady through the telepathic link.
Her reaction was immediate. The stick in her hand snapped, and her head whipped around to face me. Her emerald eyes trembled, wide with a mixture of disbelief and hope. “I hate liars,” she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. “How do you plan to break the seal of a witch when you can’t even control your own power?”
She had a point. My own abilities were far from reliable, but I wasn’t lying. Deep within, I knew I could break her seal—eventually.
‘I can’t do it now,’ I admitted, holding her gaze. ‘But once I regain control of my mana, I will. I swear it. Zee and I are heading to Veridara’s Free City. Join us, and I’ll break your seal.’
She stared at me, her piercing gaze scanning every inch of my face as though searching for cracks in my resolve. Slowly, she leaned back, her posture relaxing.
“My name’s Belinda,” she said finally. “You’ll need to know that if we’re going to stick together.”
‘I am Marcelo,’ I replied with a slight bow of my head. ‘It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.’
Her lips quirked into a faint smile, but before I could say more, a shrill screech shattered the quiet.
“WHAT’S THIS?”
Both of us turned to see Zee standing shakily, his small frame trembling with rage. His wide eyes darted between Belinda and me, his expression one of pure indignation.
“Fraternizing with the enemy!” he bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at Belinda. “I knew you weren’t to be trusted!”
His dagger wobbled in his hand as he tried to appear threatening, but the effect was more pitiful than imposing.
Belinda raised an eyebrow, her expression caught between disdain and amusement. ‘Is he always this dramatic?’ she asked through the telepathic link.