Slave Elf Part 33: Flash Fiction Friday

Celebration by S Tar Maiden via

See Part 1 here.

Part 33

Iyunno placed his napkin on the table. “I do hope you’ve enjoyed your meal. It will be the last for a while.” He nodded and the black elves surrounded Delia.

Her heart pounded as her hands grew slick.

“No!” Kaya leapt up.

At a simple wave of Iyunno’s hand, she froze, face in a grimace of both anger and fear.

That made Delia even more afraid. “What are you doing?”

Iyunno sniffed as both Nethene and Ceinno chuckled. “We’re going to bring you over to our side.”

Delia’s head shook no of its own accord. “No. No I won’t.”

“We’ll see.” Iyunno nodded again and one of the black elves grabbed her arm.

Her magic exploded. The elf holding her flew back, his sword flying through the air. Delia rounded on the others, using the push she’d just hit Ceinno with on the other black elves trying to surround her.

Ceinno and Nethene slid around the table, surrounding her and held her with their magic. She fought, but they held her arms to her sides and aside from a trembling whole body shield, she could do nothing. They walked her, Kaya still held in stasis, out of the room and to the dungeon. They shoved her onto a wooden table, slanted so one end was on the floor with a small platform for her feet and strapped her to the table. Helpless tears of anger and fear and frustration leaked from her eyes as they tilted the table up to a forty-five degree angle and wrapped her in a protection spell.

They laughed when they finished. “Not so much after all,” Nethene said.

“It took two of you to wrestle me down here,” Delia said. “And me with just a few months training.”

Ceinno made a movement with his hand.

Delia strained for breath.

“Careful, little one, or I’ll set the grid so small no air will get in.” He waved again, and her breathing became easier.

She glared but said nothing.

Nethene turned to leave. “Sleep well. We begin in the morning.”

Delia watched them leave, shutting the door and soon, a protection spell covered it. It was dark. She tried to remember what was in the room as they forced her into it. She closed her eyes to avoid the oppressive absence of light. On the wall behind her a table. There were things on it but she hadn’t really seen them in her struggle. To her right, a stone wall, not a few feet away. On her left, she tried to remember, but nothing came to her. A larger space than on her right. In front of her was the wall with the door. No windows, though it was dark, perhaps there was one on one of the walls but she just didn’t see. More tears slid silently down her face, dripping into her ears or along her jawline.

She sniffed and did her best to stop crying. Her heart was still pounding from the fight and the fear. What happened to Kaya? Is father really dead? What can mother do to defend the castle? What did Iyunno mean he can force me to turn? Delia struggled against the straps. She could feel her wrists grow wet and slick. Bloody, she thought, and tried to pull her hands through the straps. It didn’t help, they remained in place.

Delia grew tired with the struggle. As well, she wasn’t really standing and wasn’t lying down. The board at her feet wasn’t wide enough for her whole foot, just her heels and that was wearing as well. Her back began to hurt as well as her now injured wrists. She wished she could wipe her eyes and nose. Everything was a discomfort or pain.

It finally occurred to her that the protection field would hold her in place. When she tried it, it didn’t shock her as other protection fields had. She closed her eyes and tried to rest, a steady drip, drip, drip, from behind her a strangely comforting sound as she fell asleep.

At the sound of the door being unlocked, she woke, her eyes gummed together by last night’s tears and sleep. She squeezed her eyelids together then forced them apart just as the door opened. It was Ceinno and Nethene. They were followed by black elves with torches they put in brackets on the walls on each side of the bed and behind her.

Nethene clucked as he approached the table.  He clucked softly. “What’s this! Blood?” He looked over her to her right wrist. “And on this side too.” He shook his head. “Look Ceinno, she’s damaged herself.”

Ceinno shrugged. “She’ll heal. But look at her face! She must have been crying all night.” He laughed. “Afraid, little one? Afraid?”

If she hadn’t been so thirsty she’d have spit, then thought better of it. It wouldn’t get through the protection field anyway. Then she was surprised when Nethene took it down.

Her eyes must have shown the surprise as Nethene chuckled. “You think we’re so afraid of a child that we’d leave it up while we’re standing right here?”

Her mouth was too dry to reply.

Ceinno came back to her side from behind her. He held a mug to her lips. “Drink, little one.”

She tried to shake her head no but Nethene grabbed her by the hair and Ceinno forced her mouth open and poured the liquid in. Delia sputtered, water flying in every direction. It was water and she swallowed some but there was something else in it. Metallic tasting. Ceinno laughed. “There will be more, little one. Oh yes. And you will drink.”

“May you die a horrible death,” Delia managed to croak out.

They both chuckled. “Excellent,” Nethene said. “A good sign, there’s still fight in her yet.”


Thank You! Come back next week for Part 34.

969 Words

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