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The body of the elf in my grasp goes limp, and I smile and follow the trail of the last luckless elf. This is much more fun than hunting orcs.
He is fleet even for an elf, but my powers are stronger and I am swifter. I duck and weave through the forest, staying close to his heels. Finally, he stops panting in a clearing.
“Come on, you ugly bastard. Fight me!” he cries, raising his pathetic blade.
I like this game.
I duck and weave, letting him exhaust himself.
Our flight must have brought us out ahead of ‘her’ because I can still hear her crashing through the forest toward us. What could she be doing out here in the woods by herself? Why is she being pursued by dark elves? I am overwhelmed with desire for her, but I also want to protect her.
As she approaches, the smell of her overwhelms the fun I’m having with the elf. It’s time to end this. I step forward unexpectedly and knock the weapon from his grasp. Raising my hand, I am about to send the young elf into death's sweet embrace when she appears in front of me.
I am not prepared for the effect she has on me as she comes to a halt in front of me, her perfect breasts heaving as she gasps for air. She is demure and totally naked, her white body perfectly formed as she stands in the dappled afternoon sunlight.
She stares at me, and our eyes meet. I lose myself in those deep blue crystal depths. It is like sinking into her soul. I cannot breathe, and I’m pretty sure my heart has stopped, along with time.
Suddenly, she drops to the ground as if lifeless. I don’t understand. Has she been shot by an elf I hadn’t noticed?
I release the terrified elven boy and rush to her side.
With relief, I notice she is breathing. As gently as I can, I turn her over. I can see no injury other than the cuts and grazes of her flight through the forest. It’s as if she is sleeping.
I run my fingers over the pale soft skin of her cheek. I have never seen or felt anything so wonderful. Who is this strange creature who has fallen at my feet?
My gnarled and calloused fingers touch her rosebud lips. They are moist beneath my touch, and it makes me want to kiss them.
My fingers travel further. They brush her neck, so exposed and vulnerable. I can feel the pulse that beats gently under my touch. I feel an overwhelming desire to care for this exquisite woman. No one can hurt her. She is mine, the voice in my head repeats.
Her skin is chill to my touch, and I worry that she is dying. Even though I can see no mortal wound, I know this forest well. There are more ways than one that it will take an unwary life.
My hand moves of its own volition, and I caress her soft and yielding breast. My desire threatens to overwhelm me. I must save her.
5
SIERRA
Idon’t think I’ve ever felt so comfortable as I lie here wrapped in soft, clean, sheets. This beats my bed in Kantor by a long shot.
But something is nagging at my memory, urging me to wake up. I ignore it, choosing instead to slip back into my safe slumber.
Everything here is trying to catch me. As I run past a tree, I feel its roots rise beneath my feet to trip me. Long-fingered branches try to grab me in their cruel grip.
“No,” I cry, struggling to break free. “Let go, I have to escape!”
I struggle and break away. My pursuers are closing in, I can feel it.
Then I pull up short. There in my path is a monster. He towers above me, tall and domineering, his bark-like skin puckering around his face. His eyes are two smoldering coals that pierce me to my core.
In my half-slumber, I know deep down that this is more memory than dream, but I will not allow my waking mind to look at it. If I accept it as truth, then it will be real, and I have no idea what that means for me.
I try to chase the dream memory, but it is elusive and my body is urging me awake.
Reluctantly, I open my eyes. The room I am in is pleasant. Clear morning light pours through the window, revealing the ancient forest beyond. I breathe deeply, and the scent of freshly washed sheets fills my nostrils. There are no pictures or decorations on the walls, but they are made from an intricate pattern of wood that is pleasing to the eye.
I stretch and my world explodes in bitter agony. There is not a single part of my body that does not ache. The events of yesterday flash through my memory in a jumble. I recall the attempt by the dark elves to abduct me. Then there were orcs, and then fighting, and finally, my desperate bid for freedom through the forest.
But the recollection that springs through the clearest of them all is the one of the monster. The way it looked at me still burns in my chest. My heart is filled with terror. Is it still around? And why do I feel a strange connection to it? Did it hypnotize me with those cunning dark eyes?
