Similarly to their seating privileges at the table, no one planned for or had interest in how Atef and Erleia will pass the night. It was already late when the newlyweds closed the doors and cut short the formal part of the ceremony, but that didn’t stop the guests to continue partying until Lita firmly gripped Sur and Baor left the horizon. Atef initially stayed with the rascals who wanted to see the lovemaking through the windows or hear it, but Bortos quickly bolted shut everything. Whatever could be heard was either muffled or engulfed by loud music, so he headed back to the square. Erleia went back to dance and even cozied up to Amos as per the received advice. She picked up the group dance by now, but in dancing with Amos he was the one who had to follow the moves she knew; and those were distinctly elven. Elves, such as Erleia, don’t jump or sway or tread around in rhythm as much as the humans, their dance is slow and gracious, a presentation of oneself which is to be mimicked and supplanted by the dance partner with dignity, precision and veneration. Amos naturally lacked all of those and the elven dance moves were too slow for the music. Nonetheless, he was dead set on impressing the only unique one among all the females at the party. Erleia was enthused by this boy and her body flirted with him while her eyes were everywhere but on him. She enjoyed being in the center of attention, so she made her moves and looks inviting, sending out piercing glances all around, teasing forth the next one who would like to try.
When Atef saw this a feeling riled up in him, bitter and burning, galvanizing a fighter’s resolve that would cut down like a scythe doused in hellfire anyone who dares sullying Erleia. He swooped in and placed himself between Amos and Erleia trying to keep pace with her moves. He looked ridiculous, out of sync, as if he was a lagging and erroneous mirror image. Amos’ blood invoked his competitive spirit as well, so he swerved around Atef placing himself again in front of Erleia and continued the dance. Atef turned crimson, his eyes that of a bull, his heart a sledgehammer that will destroy mountains. He returned the favor and swerved around Amos placing himself in front of Erleia, their noses touching. He wiggled his nose against hers, getting a “You’re silly” look in response. A forceful tap landed on Atef’s shoulder cutting short the wonderful, cheeky smile she had for him. He raised his finger to announce she will be back in the center of his attention in a moment.
- What?! – he thundered as he swung around, eyes crossed, nostrils flaring, his face clenched with wrinkles looking like crevasses of oblivion into which Amos will sink if he doesn’t immediately disappear out of sight.
Although having the hots for the she-elf Amos lacked, now like many times in the past, a key component to get what he wanted; a set of steel balls that would run the crazy juices into his blood and explode his courage outward to incinerate anyone opposing him. In short, he lacked the finer qualities that a slave beaten and tortured below the ground in a myriad of ways countless times had. Even in his most reckless state, Amos’ willingness to fight wouldn’t come even close to Atef’s in this situation, not to mention that Atef’s was partly guided by what was within him, his gift. Fear settled on the face of the challenger and he slowly backed away, setting a lesson for the others who were eyeing Erleia and vice versa.
When Atef turned around, Erleia had a type of look he never experienced before. Her eyes were large, dead set on him, peering deep into his soul. Her face had the slightest hint of a smile, teasing, asking for it to be marveled. He looked at her and all the courage that he had worked up, to even slay Amos if necessary, evaporated in a scorching instant. He grabbed the back of his neck and just stood there, as if painfully constipated.
Erleia glanced around and found a sizable audience being interested in particularly them so she grabbed his arm and took him away. As they were leaving the gathering, they noticed that some of the other revelers are calling it quits.
- Canna two of Gorla’s friends sleep in your house?
- Nope, sorry boy. Go with your little Aebor lassie somewhere else.
- Master, wha’ bout your house?
- No sonny. I have a light sleep and I am certain you two will do little sleeping tonight!
Atef’s face went red.
- Couldda old fart be lying or?
He looked at Erleia who was waiting on him to finish the exchange before they continue their search for lodging. That look was still there, growing. It sobered him up, made him feel queasy. No was the answer whomever they’ve asked. A shabby looking, hook-nosed boy and a barefoot she-elf with a torn, dusty dress couldn’t expect much more, no matter the jovial disposition of almost everyone they asked. They slowly walked towards the edge of Velelik, the distant forest when the whiff hit their nostrils. Erleia suddenly jerked Atef’s hand and took him towards the source behind a large double door. They snuck into a barn, greeted by anxious puffs and neighs of the horses which were jolted from their drowsiness. She looked around and picked a spot in the hay, away from the horses and a litter of kittens with their mum.
Her eyes were again upon him, shining like two stars in the murky moonlight that slowly grew brighter as Lita enveloped Sur. And as that was happening, her eyes were increasingly more intimidating. He looked at her for what must have been forever and couldn’t move a muscle. And she was not one of those who would show initiative. Right there, freaking right there in front of him and he felt powerless to plunge forth. He couldn’t understand why, the fear was clouding his ability to think. He nervously looked around, trying even to point out to the kittens as a distraction.
Magic roll: 76 out of 100 [5d20s] ; +2 to polilinguistics ; current level 3/50
- Embrace ekh! Mak’akal fes kir yulai – slipped from her lips as a wet purr, soft as rose petals. Through the stone membrane of his fear, he only managed to understand embrace. And then he yawned. Not knowing why the pit he did it, he immediately regretted it. Her eyes lost their glow, her smile became a soft neutral pout, her shoulders slouched. She yawned in return and went to the kitten litter to play. As her back was turned to him, he put his hands on his forehead and weaved his fingers into hair. And then he pulled so strongly that he could shed a tear.
- Why I am so stupid? I like this, I wanna this! What stops me? Why, why I am so scared?
She came back with a small black and white kitten and started petting it. She even kissed it, and Atef thought it could have been him. Slowly, the others and the mother made their way over. Erleia let them crawl over her and explore under the watchful eye of the mother.
A scratching sound abruptly broke the moment. The cat bristled her fur and let out a long and distressed meow.
Magic roll: 49 out of 100 [5d20s] ; +1 to speaking with animals ; current level 4/50
- Beast! – came again and again out of the cat’s mouth scaring Atef.
Erleia was stupefied with what is happening, the kittens were running away to the farthest corner, passing under the horses, risking being trampled. The horses joined in with their nervous neighs and jerks of their heads. Atef lifted himself up and slowly walked over to the door. The scratching intensified, and he could hear a heavy breath. He peeked through a small hole in the planks. He looked back, as if to judge the situation, and despite Erleia’s dreadful “no,” he opened the door.
- Grrr, auuu, long! Grauhuah, killed? – growled silently the wolf as it entered the barn as comfortably as a common dog would.
The horses went haywire. They loudly neighed, reared up as much as the reins allowed them to. They thundered with their hooves in fear and even kicked blindly behind them to chase away the wolf. The wolf read the room, went to the corner opposite of the door and hid behind barrels. The horses’ eyes, crazy with fear, looked around and although they could still smell it, its absence created a sense of false security.
- Aaah-oooh, leave – the wolf quickly growled to Atef which restarted the crazed racquet.
- No – he responded to it, raising Erleia’s eyebrow. She wondered why he would choose to talk back to a beast as if he could speak with it. The two of them barely managed to exchange any words and the success in their communication was weird in its own way. What happened moments ago was off-putting, and there was still no way to discuss the mountain high issue of how he managed to heal her just by touch. Even she, with her natural regeneration prowess, wasn’t able to do something like that. Close a wound with a deeply lodged thorn out of thin air, utterly ludicrous. She just crossed her arms, and as usual, let Atef deal with everything.
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- We stay here, sleep! – Atef repeated three times to the wolf and fixed the barrels behind which it laid down so that it is practically invisible to someone who doesn’t approach that area of the barn. This was especially important if someone comes in moments from now investigating what the pit is happening. However, they were lucky, in a five hundred paces radius around them everyone was sleeping off the best drunken night of their lives.
And then the door opened again. Two of them walked in. The groom and a different woman, but same. The one they spoke with today, the sister of the bride.
- What are you doing here you detestable wretch?
- I canna ask that you too!
- Who are these two Raya?
- A brute and his dimwit Aebor girl who Gorla and Iusufal decided to pick up on the way over.
- Raya ‘tis? Spotty name for a bitch!
- Boy, watch your mouth or I will break all your teeth and have you eat your own tongue as a desert.
- I wouldda smirk to see you try! – said Atef and snapped his fingers. Apart from horses investigating with a twitch of their ears, nothing happened. Everyone stared at him and Bortos took a step forward.
- What’s this then fool? Dancing time? Do you want me to snap my fingers in rhythm as well? Apologize to the lady or have a knuckle sandwich!
- She first must ‘pologize to me! – said Atef as he snapped his fingers again. And again nothing happened. He turned around frustrated and spread his arms pointing to the ground, asking “what’s the holdup” with this gesture. Erleia sat there, wary of the tension in the voices and Bortos’ body language, forward leaning and menacing in preparation to pounce.
- Not a word more, that’s it! Kick his teeth in! – ordered Raya to her companion.
Atef ran to the barrels and Bortos gave chase. When he had a look at the wolf, he could swear it was laughing in its beastly ways.
- You really must listen to me! – shrieked Atef scoldingly.
The eyes enveloped by the red fur acknowledged, the wolf stepped out between Atef and Bortos and the cacophony of frightened animals started anew.
- Hey now, let’s not get hasty with your pet! Tell it to be nice! Stand down wolf, stand down! – said Bortos dreadfully surprised and stepping back, Raya grabbing his arm so that they stay close.
- Maybe I will, but I wouldda not! ‘Tis our spot to sleep. Why you here? Where is your new lady, Bortos? This one better than her sister?
- None of your business! We won’t bother you! Let us take horses and be on our way!
Atef looked at Erleia who seemed curious now that the odds were stacked in their favor. Her eyes were gleaming with sanguine glee and she wished she could understand more than fragments of what was about to be divulged.
- We wanna know! This is weird stuff! Very weird!
- It is not for you to know, let us be on our way you knave! – interjected Raya, refusing to be intimidated.
- Wolf, bite her leg!
- Wait, wait. I’ll tell you – succumbed finally Bortos.
Atef called off the wolf with his hand and the animal, tired from all the crazed tumult, actually obeyed, calling Atef a fool in low growls as it returned to its original hiding place.
- Don’t Bortos! They’ll turn us in! – pleaded Raya.
- Promise what I am about to tell you doesn’t leave this place and is a secret you will never tell to a single soul – said Bortos eyeing both of them. Atef touched his heart with his grouped fingertips and Erleia followed along with this weird custom. Satisfied, Bortos nodded and looked into Raya’s eyes asking her to trust him.
- The marriage was forced onto me. I love Raya, Gorla was the one I had to marry.
The audience gasped and the kittens meowed in unison, filling the soundless void.
- So how you here? Where’s Gorla?
- I snuck out. Me and Raya are running away.
Atef glanced at Erleia and noticed that she wasn’t buying it. There was more to it, masked in their demeanor. Atef wondered how she could do this; read people even though she didn’t speak the language.
- My friend over ‘ere thinks you lie! Shouldda I fetch wolf?
Raya looked at Bortos, their ruse dispelled in that very moment of uncertainty, and approved. His eyes became somber, his fear poured through, but he relented as well.
- Gorla is dead. She choked on her own puke and I chose not to help her.
- There is reason why though! – Raya stepped in taking the lead of the story’s weave. – Bortos and I have loved each other since I first laid my eyes on him at Linden Vale’s pig fair. And he has land.
- And Iusufal’s debt among others – concluded Bortos angrily under his voice.
Atef was starting to make some sense of the story, but he was leaning in, voracious to hear the rest.
- To get to his land he forced Gorla to marry him. All of Linden Vale knows she is barren.
Then the pain took hold, Raya’s eyes filled with tears, and it was all there for Atef and Erleia to hear. The release of a secret, cathartic and purifying.
- She said yes to get away! I begged and pleaded, kissed his feet… all in vain, all for naught! She was a coward, a mute approver of what he did to me. I was his dear, his clever little thing he was to keep by his side and… and…
She was choking on her tears, not able to say it. Atef and Erleia were silent, too distraught to utter a single word.
- The things he did to me – concluded Raya. – Vile, unnatural, demeaning! Marking me for life… I cannot run from that, it is here, in my core! Gorla was a coward, she never spoke up, never fought back! Just used the first opportunity to run away.
Bortos held her close; like a drunk couple they fell to the ground and he tried to comfort her, kissing her forehead, make the tears go away.
- Let us just take horses and go away! I don’t care about the land, the debt, anything! Just her! We’ll start somewhere anew, far from him and the ruin he brought! He might wake up, stumble around, see Raya’s not there. We need to hurry. Time is precious, Baor and Lita don’t wait for anyone!
An unquenchable fire of hatred in Atef was being stoked by each of Raya’s tears and sobs. This was the language Atef knew, recognized at the smallest glance. Pain, subjugation, fear in all of their endless mutating forms were its axioms, its core terms. A wish to cut the cord, root this evil out of Bortos and Raya’s lives sprouted in his mind just like that.
- Where is he?
- Who?
- Iusufal you twat! – Atef responded.
- Fifth house to the right, just past the square.
- Take me to house and then come for horses!
- What can you possibly do? Release the wolf at him? The moment the bloodbath starts the whole village will be up and they’ll bash your skulls! We’ll get away, he won’t find us!
Atef didn’t listen, he just pointed out looking at Erleia to get up and start moving. The wolf was already by his side, picking up the most important of Atef’s words. Raya gave Bortos a broken minded look, distraught and unaccepting that anything of this was reality anymore. She just wanted to be out, far in distant lands and held by him. As Erleia was getting up she noticed the artisanal, well made boots Raya had on and pointed at them.
- Want this!
Atef was furious, not wanting to spend a moment longer in the barn.
- You, Raya, give her boots!
- But I will be barefoot – she said absent-mindedly gazing towards the kittens, finding solace in their games now that their domain was safe again.
- Leave her, I’ll give you better ones, from Gorla – promised Bortos placing Raya comfortably in the hay until he executes what Atef commanded.
- No – spitefully uttered Erleia.
- Don’t be difficult Aebor, Gorla’s are better. Light brown with studs and a buckle. Deep and comfy. Come with me and I will give them to you.
Rage seeking action towards retribution guided Atef to brutishly grab Erleia’s arm and take her out. Bortos was faltering in front of his hissing, but the kick in the butt got him running to the described spot.
- There, there! That house. Leave me be, you demon!
- Shoes for her! – Atef said venomously and let go Erleia who looked at him with glaring disdain, hating this new aspect of his personality. – Meet here, quick! – he ordered and waved for her to be gone.
The house looked bleak in the night, its wooden beams carved with agricultural symbols which the moonlight disfigured into the faces of demons. Eeriness pervaded in its wooden soul which the wolf could scent coming back from the scouting of the far side. It was fit for a den of a monster like Iusufal. Atef wanted to crash the front door and let his fury unleash, but what was brewing within him keened his murderous sense of justice into a point as sharp as the tip of a rapier. He and the wolf went around the house and found the kitchen door unlocked. Just as Raya exited, he entered signaling the wolf to wait here and rush to aid if need be. As he lurked about, he noticed the stairs and decided first to explore the ground level before venturing up. The third door he tried proved to be the right one. There he was, sleeping like a satisfied youngster, without a worry in the world. Atef in his rage even thought he saw a smirk on his face. In few steps he was by his side. His hand was tomblike iron, rigid and spelling doom. Iusufal couldn’t open his mouth, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see the assailant. His heart was in overdrive, trying to power up his body dulled by sleep, trying to rush enough oxygen to his lungs so that he could scream. And that nexus of life was precisely Atef’s target.
Magic roll: 52 out of 100 [5d20s] ; +1 to ice magic {learned ice touch} ; current level 1/50
Madness roll: 58 out of 100 [5d20s] ; +1 to madness ; current level 4/100
Secret roll: 67 out of 100 [5d20s] ; +1 to a mystery ; current level 3/100
His left hand landed on Iusufal’s chest, spreading arctic cold. His ribs turned brittle, his muscles snap-froze, and his heart, the prize, withered as the blood turned to malevolent red crystals, ever expanding, ripping apart the corridors in their never-ending glacial growth. The heart exploded into an icicle which took its place. If someone was to open Iusufal chest, they’d know the sin he committed. Atef’s fury waned, fleeting him like a malady of the soul.
- No more distractions – Atef concluded as he crushed the monster’s heart.