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“Don’t,” I try to stop him. “Don’t make this any worse for yourself. If you pull out the arrow, you’re going to –”
“Fuck you,” he spits.
I can see his words staring at the blood spots on the ground, trying to restrain themselves from licking them.
He tries to stifle his squeals as he pulls out the arrow but collapses to the ground, blood flowing faster now. He’s on his knees, his starving worgs fixated on his dripping blood. I can see them licking their lips.
“I can heal you,” I tell him casually. “Just tell me what you’re doing here and who sent you, and this can all be over.”
He spends his last moments alive cursing me, trying to find the energy to fight back but failing. The blood loss kills him before I have to lift another finger.
I choose not to save him. I only wish that I could see his eyes as he passes.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a small sliver of parchment tucked underneath a rock. In the clearing, it’s very visible and was clearly intended to be found by somebody.
My concerns for disposing of the body are eased, as the words are very hungry and clearly lost every bit of loyalty for their master the moment he started neglecting them.
I lift the rock and look at the note. The handwriting is shaky, forced, and unnatural. It is also unrecognizable and barely legible.
Little girls shouldn’t go wandering in the forest alone, the note reads.Stay away or face the consequences.
I notice the fresh karasu droppings nearby, realizing that the note’s audience is just one person and that it is meant for Brielle.
Unacceptable.
Inspecting the remains of the body, hesitantly petting the words as I do, I lift the porcelain mask, confirming my suspicions. This was a human nobody. His face is scarred to the point of being nearly indiscernible, his hair a mangled, unkempt mess.
But the mask, and the lack of weapons, confirm two things. He was here for no good purpose. He was not looking for food in these woods the way my Brielle does. Also, he was not sent here to kill, but to intimidate – stunning his target rather than killing them outright. He, or whoever put him up to this, wanted Brielle to find the note and be frightened.
And terrifying Brielle is my role.
I will find whoever is responsible for this note, and I will make them pay. Clearly, they did not expect their hire to find me here.
Remembering why I came here to begin with, I take the arrow out of the body, then produce the jeweled black collar from within my robes. The metalworking is a bit cheap, the gems a bit tacky, but to a human, this jewelry is incalculably valuable. I violently stab the arrow into the tree bark, then drape the collar on the arrow.
Finding the right trap to lure her is almost too easy. She thinks she’s discovering free trinkets, unaware of the deeper implications they pose. She will learn that nothing in life is free. I will personally ensure it.
The worgs finish their meal, leaving only bones and the faintest hint of entrails, and I walk off, whistling a song to myself. I can feel the ground healing beneath my feet, the sickness that wandered into these woods having been dealt with. As I walk off, I lift my hand, and the ground rises to accept the bones, swallowing up the corpse.
His death will help heal the land. From within my peripheral vision, I can see the worgs fleeing to seek their freedom. Now that nobody is depriving them, they will find their next meal in the woods.
11
BRIELLE
Isigh as I walk home. Today was such a long fucking day at the factory. All I want to do is go home and hide under the covers for a week.
I feel dirty and gross, and I need a bath, but I just don’t know if I have it in me to carry buckets upon buckets of water back to my tub just to sit in the cold water. I sigh again. Being poor really sucks.
“Fuck, I need to figure something out.” I scrub at my face.
I know I should be grateful for the opportunity to have work because at least it helps me keep myself alive. But working at the factory is terrible. There truly couldn’t be a worse place.
We’re treated like shit and literally worked to death, with at least one human dying from exhaustion and malnourishment a week. It’s one of the reasons the human rebels have started to gather more frequently and get more ballsy with their movements.
I try to stay out of trouble as much as I can, but sometimes I have to join them, just to prove that I’m loyal. There’s only one thing humans hate more than dark elves, and that is a human that sympathizes with the dark elves. The rebels have no mercy for that, and rightfully so.
The dark elves are ruthless with us. They don’t care about our safety, and they don’t care if we die. In fact, killing us is one of their favorite hobbies. Which is why I try my best to stay out of their way.
