Chapter 1
Chapter One
Nem was the name her mother gave her. But the Elven village called her Mala, the cursed one. The manifestation of death itself. She was accused of taking her mother’s life, for when she drew her first breath, her mother took her last.
There were whispers about her sire amongst the high elves. Some claimed she was a bastard, others said she had no earthly father. She was believed to be the seed of the dark lord himself . It was rumored that her body was molded from his dark magic because her skin was brown like the parched, dry soil that had not tasted rain since the day of her birth.
The village scorned her. Shunned her and shut her away far on the outskirts of the village near the ridge and dune hills. Each and everyone of them wished death upon her, hoping for the Elven Goddess to reclaim her cursed life. The only reason she could live to the ripe age of nineteen was that the village folk feared what would happen if she died. Would the dark lord reap their souls for harming his kinfolk? But it was also a crime against the goddess for the blood of a virgin maiden to be spilled in vain. So the village suffered in silence. The once verdant Elven lands of Mistera were now nothing more than a dry husk of its former self. Said to have been cursed when Nyirád Nemala’s mother was laid to rest.
But the land of Mistera wasn’t just barren. All life within the village boundaries was diminishing and rotting away. The village elves livestock hardly produced enough to sell, and their animals were often sickly and frail. The female elves also suffered, for many knew the sorrow of stillbirth, some with as many as seven unborn kin.
Life was hard in Mistera. But Even when families fled the village to leave the cursed land behind. Misfortune followed them like a scornful wraith and struck them down tenfold. Now none were foolish enough to flee Mistera. The desert land, where all we’re cursed to die.
Nemala sat high perched upon the dilapidated wall of her ramshackle cottage as a dust-filled breeze tousled her violet hair. She licked her dry, cracked lips. Tasting the sand particles that coated them.
She could see the villagers gathering in the far off distance. They looked like a swarm of black ants as they headed towards the center for their daily prayers. Every day for the last nineteen years, the village folk would congregate at mid day.. herding themselves to the square where the goddess’ statue had been erected over a hundred years prior. According to scriptures, the Elven Goddess of Life was said to have visited the village of Mistera disguising herself as a travel weary maiden seeking refuge for the night and when she was given a warm meal and a safe place to sleep. She blessed the village folks with long lives. What rubbish that was. For this was a village that knew only death.
“Nemala,” came a voice from beyond the winding pathway that led to her cottage. Nemala’s pointed ears twitched as she turned her head and saw Jethra, a young pale-faced girl with a shock of unruly red hair and a splattering of freckles and high pointed ears. She lived just beyond the ridge on her families goat farm. Well, what was left of it, anyway? Her father had been forced to eat most of their livestock. It was that or starve. Jethra was one of the few village folk that didn’t treat her as a cursed being. She claimed the goddess frowned upon the bullying.
Jethra rushed over to the wall where Nemala sat, winded and out of breath. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them, but they wouldn’t listen.”
Nemala looked at Jethra in confusion. “ What has happened? What do you mean, Jethra?”
Jethra’s face became a mask of remorse and sorrow. Then she replied. “If you run now, maybe you can escape them!”
“Escape?” Nemala rose to her feet. Trepidation caused her heart to beat frantically. Her eyes widened with surprise and fear. “What are you talking about?”
“The Elven council and the villagers will come here. They’ve got weapons magical artifacts.. The Duke… The Duke’s wife …the head mistress!” Jethra bent over and drew in a deep breath. Her hands gripped the front of her dress as she used her knees for support.
“ Speak, Jethra! What has happened to the Duke’s wife?”
Jethra winced and averted her eyes. “The Duke’s wife has lost another babe. This will be the fifth stillbirth this year.” Jethra ears drooped as she twisted the hem of her apron with her fist. “ they blame you mala! The entire village is coming to punish you! The mistress said she’ll kill herself if the Duke doesn’t get rid of you and the Elven council agreed!”
Nemala gasped in horror. A look of terrible fear shot across her features. She clutched her chest and stumbled backward, nearly falling off the wall. “Will they kill me?” she cried, rising to her feet. “What do you mean the council agreed?”
“I must go now, Nemala!”
“I can’t run. I have nowhere to go! Beyond this village is nothing but wasteland! Even here I live in squalor. Ive done nothing wrong!”
“If you fight your punishment, they’ll kill you, I heard them. Some village folks are willing to risk the Goddesses eternal damnation to take your life. Hoping to lift the dark curse on this land. I’ve done my part with helping you.”
Her words pierced through the air like a sharpened sword. Nemala shook her head, tears threatening to run down her cheeks.
“I tried,” Jethra whispered as she ran back towards the village.
Nemala watched her go, feeling the weight of her impending doom settle upon her shoulders.
“There she is! There is the cursed wretch!” the village folks screamed and jeered in unison. Their hostility and rage were palpable as they marched up the winding path in droves.
“Get her! Get her!” the villagers cried as they swarmed around her. Nemala closed her eyes and clenched her fists tightly. As they scratched and pulled at her clothes. Spitting obscenities and slurs. Someone whirled her around and slapped her across the face. But before she could react she was dealt a hard whack to the back of her skull, plunging Nemala into a world of darkness.
Nemala groaned and winced as she felt something soft brush across her cheek.
Squeak-
A fat furry mouse scuttled into a tiny dark hole in the wall close to where she laid.
When Nemala opened her eyes, she found herself surrounded by darkness. For a moment She thought she was dead and that her cruel life was at last over.
Suddenly, a gentle hand touched her shoulder. Nemala jumped and scurried away from whomever it was. When she looked up, she saw a familiar face staring back.
“Jethra,”
“ Lower your voice.”
Nemala wiped her face and stared into Jethra’s wide green eyes. “ Nemala, You must wake now!” Jethra cooed.
Nemala’s hand tenderly rubbed the back of her skull. A clump of matted dry blood broke off in her hand. “ where am I, Jethra? What is all this?”
Jethra held up a lantern, casting their surroundings in an eerie, suffused yellow light. The room was a small cell. The walls were made of dark grey bricks covered in damp green moss. Nemala’s eyes balked as she realized she sat behind heavy metal bars and was being held captive.
Before she could ask. Jethra gave her an answer.
“ We’re in the Orc lands of New Opo! You’ve been sold here as a virgin bride!”
Nemala couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She began to tremble. Cold sweat poured down her brow. “the Orc lands….how did we get here? Didn’t the Duke’s wife have another miscarriage? Don’t tell me they think I was the cause?” Nemala cried out, seeking an explanation she knew Jethra couldn’t give. All her life, misfortune was always blamed on her.
Jethra’s face took on a solemn expression. “ It matters not! For now, for bigger plans await us.”
“Await us! “ Nemala winced as she sat up. Her vision blurred, but she shook off the sensation. “ Jethra, why are you here too?”
Jethra’s face screwed up into an unreadable expression. “ Since I tried to defend you, they cast me off. I was forced to come here as a handmaiden to the virgin bride.”
Nemala gasped in shock. “By the fates Jethra, I’m so sorry!”
Jethra held up her hand signaling for Nemala to quiet down. “Shhh, now try to be quiet. There is no escape.” Jethra gestured to the door. “They will return soon. So let us hurry and get you dressed for your wedding.”
“ wedding…wedding?” Nemala scoffed. “ You can’t be serious? An elf marrying and Orc?”
Nemala leaned back on her haunches wincing as her palms were nicked by one of the many sharp pieces of rubble that lay strewn across the cell floor. “ What have they done, Jethra? Surely this is some cruel…. Cruel joke. Surely you jest? … right Jethra? This is one of your pranks. Oh, you know how they do? Just like that time, they put Scorpions in my salad… or you know?” Nemala’s eyes crinkled as she forced herself to laugh. “ You know how they do… surely…surely…” but Jethra’s expression remained placid. There was no sign of humor or mirth in her eyes. “ Maybe this will be for the best. Instead of taking your life, they’ve granted you a new beginning…. Us… a new beginning, Mal!” Jethra’s voice cracked.
Nemala frowned. “What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing is wrong with me, but aren’t you tired, Nemala? Maybe this was the intervention of the Goddess. Now come, we must prepare for the ceremony.”
“Prepare for the ceremony? Are you mad? Why would anyone agree to marry a cursed maiden? Can’t you see this is all a ploy from them tot take my life finally.”
Jethra shrugged her shoulders. “ I don’t know, Nemala. All I know is that this is your fate and there’s nothing we can do about it.”
Nemala stood up and paced around the cell. “ Why are you so calm about this? Nemala rushed forward gripping the rusted bars tightly as she pushed her cheeks against the cold steel.
“ What have they promised you, Jethra? “
Jethra turned her head away from Nemala. “ Don’t do this. After the all these years. You owe me!” Jethra scoffed as her soft features morphed into A twisted snarl of indignation. “I was your friend even when you brought death and destruction to all I held dear. Finally, I will reap the blessing of the Goddess. My last and final task will be for me to serve as your handmaiden on your wedding day.
Nemala’s eyes widened. “ But… but you… you were going to help me escape?”
“I was, Nemala… praise the Goddess, you didn’t listen,” Jethra smirked. “ I didn’t think you would be my ticket out of that dusty hell hole. But by the fates. I’ve finally gotten out!,” Jethra said with a smile.
Nemala shook her head, “but why? What has changed? What made you change your mind?”
Jethra looked at Nemala with a blank stare.
“Water…. The Orcs have Water! As far as the eye can see. With lush green jungles and thick grass. “ Jethra’s face took on a manic expression. “There is life here!”
“life?” Nemala laughed bitterly, “ and how long will that last now that death herself has been smuggled here?
Nineteen years prior.
“Water…Water, bring the boiling water, girl. Move quickly and quietly! The head maid hissed out in a whispering voice. The maids silently hurried to and fro as the Duke stood stoically by the veranda window, with his sterling silver cane nestled between his palms. His eyes glazed over as he looked over the dense, lush indigo fields surrounding his manor. From the foyer window, he could see his field hands tolling away under the harsh afternoon sun.
The sound of a porcelain water basin crashing to the floor broke his trance. “ What is the meaning of all this commotion? “ His slender pointed ears twitched as his stern gaze swept across the room. Paralyzing everyone with his dominance. His white hair fell forward as he tilted his head towards the mistress’s bedchamber. “ It’s only child. Birth. Can’t you all keep the noise to a minimum?” The young freckled faced elf kneeling before him bowed her head lower and swiftly brushed up the pieces with her bare hands. “ ouch!” She yelped as droplets of crimson blood fell on the pristine white marble floors. The young girl’s green eyes went wide as the Duke lithe legs brought him over to her side. -Thwack-
The foyer went silent. None of the maids dared to utter a sound.
The Duke’s nostrils flared as the coppery stench of blood perfumed the air. With a flick of his wrist, he whipped the blood and fleshy pulp from his cane and continued forward. Without a second glance, he stepped over the young girl’s corpse headed towards his study. “ This endeavor… childbirth.” He rolled his eyes as if it was a mere feat. “it is taking longer than I expected,” He yelled back at the head maid. ” Send word when the child has come. And make sure that meat on the floor doesn’t go to waste. Feed the hogs and the guard dogs. And whatever is left, we can use to compost our next harvest.”
Nyirád winced as the hemp rope forcefully shoved into her mouth cut the corners of her lips, for this was mother’s punishment for whimpering through the last contraction. Nyirád’s nostrils flared and ears drooped as a fiery hot sensation radiated all the way from her rectum to her toes. The midwife was forearm deep in her vagina and another was attempting what they call a manual turn because this baby was breech. Nyirád’s body trembled, racked with pain and exhaustion. She wanted to scream and cry out. But that demon of a man would never allow it. With a silent nod, the midwife signaled for Nyirád to bear down. But she was too tired. This was too painful. Why should she have to bring yet another Elven child into this world for him…not for them? Nyirád turned her head towards the left. There her mother sat, poised and proper. Her delicate, high Elven features showed zero emotion as she sipped her midday tea. Her other dainty, white gloved hand held a handkerchief to her nose as if the stench of her daughter’s fluids were repulsive.
“Gwahhhhh’ Nyirád screamed out as a blistering bolt of pressure pierced through her labia. Suddenly, there was an even stronger smell of blood. The midwife’s eyes went wide, then heads started to swivel to the mistress. Nyirád’s sweat-drenched head fell back against the pillow. Her stark white tresses covered her face like a silken halo. Nyirád wanted to cry, but even that required more energy than she could spend. There was so much pain. It had never been like this before. Out of all fourteen of her prior births, this pain was otherworldly. The midwife whispered something to the frail mouse brown hair girl by her side. That Maid quickly ran to her mother, beckoning the headmistress over. Her mother rolled her eyes as if it was such a great task to come to her daughter’s aid. If Nyirád had the energy, she could laugh at the irony. “ How dare I, a Meer breeder, cause the great mistress a delay in her afternoon tea….” Nyirád closed her eyes, wishing away the torturous pain. Maybe she would be lucky, and this babe would wreck her womb so badly that her father would no longer creep into her bed-chamber, filling her with his corrupted seed. Oh, but the world was cruel. All fourteen of her births had resulted in daughters, all of which were sold off or, if pretty enough, would soon to have the dreadful fate of being rutted and raped by their father hoping to produce a male heir. Something Nyirád’s mother was too precious and delicate to do. Since Nyirád’s birth, her father had never bedded his true wife again, opting for the comforts of young boys, men, and his own daughter instead.
“ What have you done, girl?”
There was silence at first. Nyirád had rarely heard her mother’s voice. The sound was peculiar. For years, she thought the wretched woman was incapable of speech. “ you ungrateful scoundrel! After all, your father and I have sacrificed for you. You do this… this…!”
The headmistress began to sway the maids tending to Nyirád’s birth, swiftly left Nyirád to tend to her mother. She was the more important one. They all busied themselves touting on her, running to get her a chair and fanning her flushed face. Nyirád couldn’t understand why her mother could utter such horse shit. Was she not the one bedding, birthing, and sacrificing her eighteen-year-old life for these monstrous parents?
There it was again, that vicious wave of white-hot pain. Another contraction was coming. But the maids were busy. Busy tending to her mother’s delicate sensibilities. So Nyirád did what she had done all fourteen times before she bared down—praying that this would be the last child her teenage body would ever bear.
“Gwahhhhh,” Nyirád spat the hemp rope out of her mouth and reached for her knees. Her bloodstained nightgown drew up, coating her creamy white skin in thick, viscous brown and red blood. With a deep breath, she pushed, using every bit of her hate and rage as power. She could feel the child’s head crowing. She was all too familiar with this sensation because of the sharp pain she felt as her labia ripped and tore to accommodate the babe’s head. Out of morbid curiosity, Nyirád looked down and gasped. Between her legs was a tuft of violet curls with the faintest hint of warm, bronze skin. So much different from her own. Suddenly, a fit of hysteria and elation ruptured from her. By the fates, how could this be, indeed? For Nyirád had only bedded one man outside her father. But that had happened many, many moons ago. More than a year and a half had passed since. Ve’drock, the Orc emissary from New Opo Kingdom. Was he this babe’s sire? How could this be? Nyirád gingerly rubbed the babes soft violet downy hair abs slightly rounded ears. They were long like high elves, but there was a sublet awkwardness to their shape. Nyirád smirked remembering the night she and Ve’drock shared. It was the first time in her life that she had defied her father. Since they were hosting diplomatic guests from the various regions, there were Orcs, Vampeer, Mages and Witches roaming all over the manor that night. Luckily for her because that meant the Duke wouldn’t be able to sneak into her bed-chamber, and Nyirád was free to be a Normal teenage girl for once.
Everything that happened that night felt whimsical. They met at the fountain. It was a random meeting, as if the gods had ordained it so. He stood there gallantly. His cream uniform was ornately decorated with dark green filigree patterns. For what Little Nyirád knew of Orc culture was that the more heavily decorated a soldier’s uniform appeared was in direct correlation to how many victories and deaths he had achieved in battle. Nyirád stepped out of the shadows. The emissary hadn’t flinched as though he knew she was there and was waiting for her to make her presence known. “ Good day, my lord.” Nyirád bowed down and cupped her hands, which was a common greeting in New Opo, or at least that was what she had read. The Orc emissary studied her. His slightly slanted eyes were quite exotic, making his mood unreadable. His dark purple irises were also depthless, but they matched his handsomely rugged ..yet elegant features. His face was clean-shaven, but he must have recently shaved because of a slight dark shadow sat upon his lower jaw. But then again, all of his skin was darker than anything Nyirád had ever seen before. Even the tanned Field hands and laborers of the village had tawny brown skin, but never had she seen a brown so rich. Outside of the cocoa, she liked to drink. He looked nothing like what she pictured an Orc to look like. Her teachers and all the books in the library described them as beastly things. And by the fates, this man was anything but.
“Essh Murante – Good Evening.” The Orc emissary bowed his head and cupped his hands, finally returning her greeting. Nyirád’s heart fluttered at the sound of his gravely voice. Never had such a thing occurred before. She could feel her cheeks flushing.
“I apologize for my silence. Your beauty caught me off, guard. I heard tales of the Elven Duke’s daughter’s beauty. You are far more beautiful than I expected.”
Nyirád’s heart soared as the emissary stepped closer. His eyes bore into hers as he brushed her hair behind her ear. As if he had done so a thousand times before. He smiled and leaned in close. His lips touched her earlobe, and he whispered something. Nyirád was too lost in the moment to realize that he was speaking in his native tongue.
“ Meantage yu suyt?… How old are you, beautiful one?” Nyirád twisted her dress between her fingers. Not wanting to lie. But when would she ever get another chance to experience real love or even have a fling under her father’s watchful eyes? “ I’m twenty-two, good Sir.” It was a lie. She was all of sixteen, but her birthday was just a few weeks off. But did it matter? She had birth thirteen babes. She was more woman than most.
“Ummm, good. I would feel bad if I fell head over heels for a mere babe.”
“ I am no child, dear sir, and I am far from innocent.” Nyirád gave him what she believed to be a sultry look But became crestfallen when he chuckled. He could see she was embarrassed by the way her ears curled over on themselves, so he quickly stifled his laughter. “ My apologies. For you see, I am very good. I’m reading people. I can tell you are not acting your normal self. “
“ I am sorry for being so forward. But I have been longing for this moment… well, a moment like this would be more correct.” The emissary gave her a coquettish smirk.
Nyirád continued, “I can’t believe my luck. I’ve always dreamed of meeting a handsome young man like yourself.”
“Handsome, you say, that would be a first!”
“Do you not think yourself handsome?” Nyirád was utterly confused. He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Dark brown skin, strong jawline, and high cheeks with deep purple tresses that were neatly cut to the sides but allowed to cascade down his back in long, thick ropes.
“ No, I don’t; brave, strong, dependable. An Orc among Orcs… These are words that are familiar to me. But handsome. My, my, you would be the first. And if you were the last, I’d still be happy. “ Nyirád’s eyes lit up. He was being honest!
“ But you know, there is something else I desire.”
Nyirád stepped closer, drawn to his charismatic charm. “What is that, good sir?”
“I desire a date. Would a certain pretty elf be willing to accompany me as I stroll the garden? I have a fear of being in strange places. Especially in the dark of night.”
Nyirád shot him a suspicious look knowing full well he was lying. “ I highly doubt that, but I will play along with your games.”
“games… You wound me!” he chuckled as he held out his hand and led her toward the rose garden.
They seemed to walk and talk for hours. Both of them were besotted with each. There had never been a time where she had laughed with such genuinity. The two had walked so far that they had already reached the forest edge that kissed the borderline of her families manor. Ve’drock leaned forward pulling her arms towards his chest as his beautiful violet eyes glistened in the moonlight. “ I’m usually not so forward, but I do not wish for this night to end.” Ve’drock place Nyirád’s small pale hand against his chest. So she could understand the depth of his desire. She felt his heart beat rapidly. It was like the rhythm of her own.
“ I would wish to see you again, my lady. If fate was kinder, we would have more time,”
“We would?”
“Oh dear girl yes…. But you see, fate is cruel. I am to leave come morning.” Ve’drock gave her hand a tight squeeze and placed a warm kiss upon her snowy white hair.
As he pulled away, Nyirád grabbed his uniform and forced him back. Before he could argue, she stood upon her tiptoes and kissed his chin. How utterly embarrassed she was. She meant to aim for his mouth, but missed. But it didn’t matter, for he understood her intentions all too well. His eyes glazed over as he returned the gesture. Nyirád giggled, “dear sir, let us make this night more memorable.”
“Oh, I intend to. “ Ve’drock kissed her again. This time, she made sure that her lips were pressed firmly against his. The emissary’s hands explored her body and Nyirád reveled in every touch.
“ If you wish for me to stop, please say so now. If I continue, I won’t be able to. So please speak your peace, woman.” Ve’drock moaned into her mouth. “ Please… “ Nyirád cooed. Please don’t hold back. I am no virgin.” Ve’drock growled forcibly, pushing her back against the tree adjacent to them, then hiked up her skirt. He began to knead her thighs with his rough palms. She was sopping wet.
Nyirád’s back arched as she moaned, “please don’t stop.” She had never felt such pleasure in her life. Even though her father bedded her frequently, it was a rare occurrence for her to feel pleasure by his hands. And whenever she did, she felt disgusted with herself afterwards. But this was different. She wanted this man. Every fiber of her being wanted to see what UT would be like to make love. To feel loved. Ve’drock stepped back pulling his trousers to his knees as Nyirád eyes widened when his girthy member slapped his belly and pendulum side to side. She bit her lip. Whenever she saw her father’s penis, it was wrinkly, like a slug or fat worm. But this… could thus really belong to a man. “ Are you half horse, dear sir?” Nyirád said it in a humorous tone but was also in awe. Ve’drock groaned as he stroked the mushroom head. If his member you could say the New Opo Kingdom has a magical animalistic ancestry. But fear you will feel nothing but pleasure. Nyirád moan has he wrapped her hand around his member. It was so warm and silky. Nyirád moaned again as she felt him throbbing in her palm.
“Good girl. Now let us make sweet memories. “ Nyirád nodded her head in understanding.
Ve’drock pulled her close and kissed her hard. His tongue forced its way into her mouth. She moaned as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Nyirád tasted the faint hint of peppermint. This was so new to her. The emissary broke off the kiss and kissed her earlobe. “ I can’t hold back much longer. I need to enter you now.”
Nyirád did as she was taught. She grabbed one if her legs and hiked it up on Ve’drock shoulder. His eyebrows rose as if he didn’t expect her to know such a position. She even took his member and inserted it in with a bit of effort. Ve’drock let her lead. Only taking control when she struggled to take all the way in. Nyirád moaned as he penetrated her. Ve’drock started to move, pumping in and out. She moaned as she felt him hit that spot deep inside. Nyirád’s eyes rolled back as she climaxed. Never had she felt something so enigmatic. Her whole being was lit up as a thunderbolt of pleasure rammed into every cell of her body. Ve’drock stopped moving but kept his member buried inside. Nyirád smiled at him as she wiped the sweat from her brow. “That was wonderful.”
“oh, it was just beginning. “ Ve’drock moved his hands down and cupped her ass. He lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.
Nyirád moaned as he began to move again. The emissary was in no rush for they had until morning to engrave themselves into each others flesh. Nyirád wrapped her arms around his neck and moaned as she kissed him. Their tongues intertwined as they both began to grow wilder. By the time they stopped, Nyirád’s flower was swollen and raw. Even if she wanted to continue, her groin was too swollen for Ve’drock member to slide in.
“ I do wish we could continue, but the sun will rise soon and your father will come looking. But before I go… I want you to have this.”
Ve’drock placed a small purple crystal in her hand. Nyirád open her hand and stared at the beautiful opulence purple stone in awe. “ What is it?” “ Something to remember this night, a piece of the stars twinkling in the sky. In Orc culture, we worship the moon and the stars. When we have met the one we hold dear, they become our moon and star and we spend our lifetime worshipping each other’s bodies.”
Nyirád had to bite back tears. This farewell would be bittersweet. But her memory of him would last forever.
“ Nyirád … what have you done!”
Nyirád grunted baring Down for one final push. Her mother’s voice ignored and forgotten. Never had she wanted something so bad. This child .. this small being was evidence that the night they shared was more than just some illusion. This child was proof that Nyirád lived. So, with all her might, she pushed with everything in her soul. She wanted this babe desperately.
Nyirád bite down on her bottom lip. Blood fell to her chin as she pushed and pushed. Then finally she felt it in the pressure wane when the cold air hit her delicate places. Nyirád reached down wiping away the gunk and mushy bits. Before her was the most beautiful girl child, she had ever birth. Nyirád wasn’t a wicked being, of course. Despite how her children were, conceived, she had fondness for each of them, but over time she knew growing attachments to things that would be taken away was pointless. Thank the gods this babe wasn’t a boy. At least her father wouldn’t kill it immediately. For the rage of birthing a bastard son would surely tip that demon over the edge. What would Marwick do when word reached him that Nyirád, his favorite plaything, had birthed a child that did not belong to him? And how would mother play it off? Normally Sora , the headmistress, would wear custom made pillows under her dresses pretending to be the mother of Nyirád’s pretty babes. But Now Sora would do as she did many times before and claim to have miscarried. For no one outside of the manor knew of their families devilish deeds. To the village elves, the Paros Family were descendants of the Elven goddess. They fed the homeless, took care of the sick and there was no such thing as famine, Mistera. Of how divine and saintly her parents appeared to everyone outside these hollow walls. But Nyirád knew all too well the evils her parents were capable of. Now more than ever, she feared for the small brown babe that laid nestled in her arms.
The baby began to cry. Nyirád couldn’t help but smile at the sound. She kissed the top of her head and whispered, “it’s ok Nem, my light in the darkness, mama will protect you.”
“ Protect!” scoffed the headmistress. “ You harlot, you lay with some second rate Elven field hand and bare filth. Your body has been tainted. “ Sora gazed upon her daughter with disgust. Her lips turned up in a snarl. Nyirád could only look at her in silence. Was this woman truly mad? Was my body not tainted when her husband grunted and fucked on top of me her only daughter?
When. The maid came to Nyirád’s side to remove the infant. Which was routine for Nyirád could never raise them. Nyirád slapped her hand causing a red welt to blossom on the pale elfs hand.
“ No, I will not part with my child!” the maids all froze, turning to the headmistress. To them, Nyirád’s words carried no weight.
“ You’ve done enough. Dispose of it and make sure no one sees!”
“ You dare touch a hair on her head and I’ll kill you all,”
With swift movements, Nyirád grabbed at the medical tools at the side of her bed. Thank the fates the one she picked up was sharp enough to be threatening. With nimble steps, she rose from the bed. Her bloodied remnants made a splattering sound as they hit the floor. Nem snuggled closer into her bosom seeking her motherly warmth. “ If you hurt this child, I’ll go hand in hand with her to the dark lord. Then who will bear your demonic seeds? Humm mother, my oldest babe is only 7 or has he already started fucking her too?”
“ You shut your mouth, you ungrateful harlot!”
“ Fuck you, demon wench! What should I be grateful for? Death would bring me greater solace.”
Nyirád swayed on her feet as a fit of wooziness washed over her. She had lost so much blood. More blood than she had ever lost with any birth prior. But she was determined to protect her babe.
“ Leave this room and leave me be!” she demanded as her face became flush with fever. Dammit, she thought to herself, she couldn’t faint, not now. They would surely take the babe while she was unconscious. In a move of sheer desperation, Nyirád ran to the window, pushed open the window panel, and screamed. “ Look everyone, I gave birth to a healthy baby girl , praise the Goddess!” at first the soldiers, field hands and attendants on the lower levels of the manor looked up in confusion. Caught off guard by her unexpected proclamation. But Nyirád held the babe up concealing her purple tresses. “ Praise the Goddess!” she yelled with a voice full of conviction. Suddenly a chorus of shouts, praise and congratulations resounded from all the elves that were near. Nyirád stepped back from the window wobbling only to find her the Duke standing in the doorway. His normal perfect quaff of pure white hair was disheveled and damp. Had he run to mother’s bedchamber? Nyirád couldn’t even phantom him doing such a thing .
The look on his face was so peculiar it took great effort for Nyirád not to laugh. “ Duke!” Nyirád acknowledged him through gritted teeth. “ Have you come to congratulate me?” Nyirád pushed her chest out and raised her chin. With a newfound determination.
“Ny…irád what have you done?” Marwick was seething mad. His pale face and ears were almost as red as a ripe tomato.
Nyirád leaned her body against the window frame. Praying her actions would be enough to win Nem some time. “ I’ve been asked that quite a lot today. It seems I’m out of sorts.”
“Out of sorts?” the words rolled off his tongue like they taste bitter. “ You….you… !” Marwick trembled and shuddered biting back his words. Trying hard to keep his demure, confident mask in place. But Nyirád knew better. She knew this demon inside in out. He may appear put together and poised, but many a night. He whispered his weaknesses and desires into her ears as he pillow talked with his dear daughter under the sheets. Out of everyone in the world. Nyirád knew Marwick had some sick obsession with her. She wouldn’t go as far to say her father loved her. But she would have to prey upon his feelings to try to save Nem.
“ Daddy, don’t be mad at me. Are you mad at me, daddy?” Nyirád pouted her lips and leaned forward, her milk-swollen breast falling carelessly out of her nightgown.
Marwick drew in a deep breath. The hand gripping his cane tightened, making his knuckles turn white.
“ Daddy?” Nyirád gave him a look knowing what her words would insight.
Marwick shuddered again; his eyes rolled to the back of his head as her soft calls for him beckoned forth his lustful demon.
“Marwick?” Sora moved closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, but she was quickly shrugged off. Marwick shot her a look of disgust before stepping away from her. “ You’ve made a big enough scene already. Do your duty and control the scene. Dismiss everyone here and be sure this is silenced by whatever means.”
Nyirád watched as her mother’s aristocratic features began to crumble. Her ears curled into themselves despite her best efforts to hide her pain. With a Kurt nod, the headmistress clapped her hands and everyone vanished. Once the bed-chamber door closed, Marwick spoke again.
“ Who is the father?,” he banged his cane, accentuating every syllable.
“ Daddy…. ?”
Marwick banged his cane down hard. “ Stop it!”
Nyirád placed New on a pile of towels nestled on the floor, then slowly made her way towards the Duke. Allowing her blood-soaked clothes to fall off her body.
The Duke was breathing in hard raspy gulps and his phallic strained against his trousers. Even in a bloodied state like this, he found her attractive. Were there no limits to this man’s deviance? Daddy, why are you angry?” Nyirád said in a tone of concern. “Please forgive me.”
But instead of answering, Marwick growled. Who would bare touch what was his. How dare they define his beautiful Elven flower? She belonged to him alone. Whoever dared to defile her, he would find them and kill them.
He walked around Nyirád looking her up and down. As he approached her, he pressed himself close to her. The coppery stench of her blood and afterbirth wasn’t even enough to turn his lustful gaze away. He reached up touching the side of her neck brushing the hair from her face. There was something about the scent of her sweat and musk that drove him wild. Something that called forth his primal urges.
Nyirád trembled, too weak from delivery, so she pulled him to the bed. The bed is still damp and bloody from birth. “ Please don’t be mad. I was jealous.”
“ Jealous?” The Duke’s ears perked up. “ Of what?”
“Don’t you remember Daddy a while back on the headmistress’s birthday? You spent the night in her chamber and not mine.”
The Duke pulled away from her grasp, appalled at the mere notion that he would ever sleep with his own wife. “ I did no such thing.”
“ But Daddy?” Nyirád looked away in mock heartbreak. Trying to bite back an irritated frown. “ The maids all told me how you will never love me the way you love the headmistress, and even mother told me I’m nothing more than a breeder to you.”
Marwick’s face became flushed with anger.
“ How dare the servants speak on such matters and the mistress … to think she would consort with the help to gossip and spreading lies!”
“Is it true Daddy? Do I mean nothing to you?”
Her words struck home like arrows piercing his flesh. This was the moment he realized just how much she meant to him.
“You know well enough something like that would never happen between us! Why must your mother always twist things around like that!?”
“That’s why I did what I did, daddy I thought you were lying to me,” Nyirád replied in an accusatory tone. “ I wanted to see what love was, since you didn’t love me.”
His mind went blank. He couldn’t believe she would accuse him of such a thing. After all these years of loving her. He felt betrayed and disgusted. “How can you say such things? I’ve given you everything a father should give his daughter.”
Nyirád had to bite back a smart remark about what father would touch his daughter in such a way. “ But ..I hear the whispers of the maids and all near. They say what we share is wrong!”
She looked into his eyes and saw the rage boiling within him. A rage born from jealousy and fear. That he might lose her if anyone else laid a finger on her. She could tell by the way he was trembling and sweating he feared losing her to another.
Marwick rubbed his pale has through his stark white hair in exasperation.
“ what they think doesn’t matter!”
“ But it does… that’s why I must raise this child, father. If they look deep enough, the high Elven council make start to ask. Questions and what if they find out about the other births? They’ll throw me into jail.”
Marwick shook his head in disbelief. “ You’re being foolish! You know how important this is! The future of our race rests on your shoulders! Our very existence depends on your success! You are the very embodiment of Elven beauty. Your genes and mine make for nothing but pure eleven perfection. With time, the high Elven council will understand why what we share is natural. And once they do…”
A sudden cold chill swept across Nyirád’s skin sending shivers through her whole body.
“…they will embrace us and welcome our union. For without you, I am nothing!”
“No, father… they will not bless this. For it goes against the goddess. To protect you, I had this child. Now they will think I love another, and we can keep our secrets in the shadows of our hearts.”
With a swift motion, Marwick grabbed hold of her wrist and twisted it, causing her arm to pop out of its socket. Pain shot through her veins, and her vision blurred. She cried out in agony. “ I warned you about what happens when you defy me! Do you think I will just go along with your plans? You… you let some low-class scoundrel defile your body. What is rightfully mine!”
“Father, stop, please!”
Marwick threw her to the ground and pinned her arms above her head, using his knees to pin hers. Then he brought his knee up into her stomach. She grunted in pain.
“Father …you’ll kill me, please. I’ll do anything, anything, please,” “
He stared down at her with loathing eyes.
“You will birth me a son in exchange for keeping that low breed alive!”
It took hours for Nyirád to recover from her ordeal. When finally she was able to get up, she found herself in a different room. It was larger and decorated differently. A large oak table sat in the middle of the room with four chairs surrounding it. And Nem sat quietly swaddled in burlap scraps. The headmistress instructed the maids to provide absolutely nothing for the babe. To treat Nem as if she didn’t exist. Nem seemed oblivious to their surroundings, or perhaps just unaware. She continued nursing on her mother’s breast with her dark violet eyes wide open taking in her new environment.
For a few short years, life continued on like this. The four walls of that room were Nem’s entire world. A world she could never venture beyond. During the day, Nyirád would feed, bathe, comfort and teach Nem with all that she had, and all she knew. But Nyirád’s nights belong to the Duke. Every night since Nems birth, Marwick would send for her to service his needs.
He obsessed with the idea of her conceiving his son. But thankfully Nyirád’s was so wounded and scarred from Nems breech birth that she had not fallen pregnant in the last three years. Despite the healing mages warnings the Duke didn’t stop trying, for this was the price if the life debt she owed.
And because the fates are cruel, the day of recompense drew near
“ Nem…Nem come hear my precious girl.”
Nem sat by the window looking up at the stars twinkling brightly in Obsidian colored sky. Nyirád hated leaving her alone at night, but over the years she taught Nem to not fear the solitude of night and that the stars were her friends.
“ mama I talk to my friends. They say a new staw will be born sooon.”
Nyirád ears twitched as her hands went to her slightly swollen belly. But she quickly pulled her hands away and pinched Nem’s golden bronze cheeks.
“ I have a present for you.”
“ A pwesent?”
Nyirád smiled and instructed Nem to turn around and close her eyes.
Nem giggled and snickered as her mothers long white tresses tickled her cheeks.
“ Mama that tickles.”
“ Open your eyes, my sweet girl.”
“ A necklace?”
Nyirád laughed at her daughter’s peculiar way of pronouncing the word.
“Yes baby, this necklace is said to be made from a star that fell from the heavens.”
Nyirád pointed upwards towards the stars Nem loved so dearly. Nem’s eyes went big . “ Is this a staw, mama?”
Nyirád fist clenched as she looked at her belly then back at Nems innocent face. “ If there ever comes a time when you’re lonely or afraid, look to the heavens. And remember, you are just as unique, beautiful and bright as the stars in the night sky. You are never alone because why?”
“The stars are me friends.”
Nyirád frowned when a strange cramp tugged at the left side of her navel.
“Mama you okay?”
Nyirád forced herself to smile. “ Ummm. Tell your friends goodnight and off to bed with you.”
Once Nem drifted off to sleep, Nyirád closed the door and went to the Dukes chamber to preform her nightly duties. Never had a night past where Nyirád could go without him visiting the Dukes bedchamber. Never Had he granted her a reprieve. Even with her belly swollen with the first babe in years. Marwick never relented. For he feared that if he missed just one night away from his beautiful daughter, another would take his place. Eventually, this took a toll on her already overused and abused pregnant body. But It wasn’t until things were too late that Marwick realized the damage he had done.
“ Nyirád … Nyirád ?” Marwick screamed as his beautiful Elven daughter lay unresponsive beneath him. He swiftly pulled himself from her sheath. toppling on to the floor in a hurry to ring to the butler. “Call for a healing mage ! Get them here immediately.” The older butler stood for a moment hesitating to ask pertinent questions for fear of bearing the Duke’s wrath.
“ Did you not hear me?”
“ Yes, right away, master….but should I call them to your chambers with the young mistress in such a state?
Marwick’s ears twitched as he look back at his bed where Nyirád lay. Her once pink lips now had the faintest blue tinge. Marwick growled, then ushered the butler inside, then hurriedly shut the door.
When the butler bent to lift Nyirád up off the Duke’s bed. Marwick let out a low-barreled growl of possession.
“ Master? I must touch her to move her to her bedchamber for the healing mage.”
Marwick marched around his bedchamber, his breathing the only sound in the room. “How could this have happened? Was I too forceful?
She never uttered a single complaint, instead remaining completely still like a sculpture. Marwick nervously gnawed on his fingernails. If anything befell Nyirád, his beloved, gorgeous Nyirád. What would become of our lineage? By the Goddess she has yet to birth the babe…. It’s too early. What if the babe? What if it’s a boy? Marwick began to tremble. His fear of losing his beautiful Elven princess was so consuming that it drove him to madness.
“Duke? …Duke?”
Marwick stared into the flames lost in the melancholy of his own thoughts
“ Duke!” A horribly shrill voice reverberated throughout his bedchamber .
“ What!” Marwick hissed, his voiced tinged with irritation. Sora stood beside him. When has she arrived?
“ who allowed you in here?”
Sora closed her eyes and took a deep breath before straightening her shoulders and resuming her composure. Duke’s healers have been toiling away, yet they dread the thought of the infant’s condition was too dire.
Sora took a step away from her husband before continuing. “They the babe was born with horrible abnormalities and died long ago in the womb, causing Nyirád to suffer from sepsis….The mage said that the infection has lingered on too long. None of us were aware.”
Marwick whirled around to face her straight on. “ The lies you speak! You think I don’t see the faintest of smiles creasing your lips?”
Sora’s white gloved hand went to her face quickly trying to conceal the true mirth she felt.
“Look at you… how could a mother be jealous of her own child? You should be ashamed of yourself, Sora, for stooping to such a petty level.
“ so you do know my name, husband?”
-chuu- “what was it? Tell me now, woman.”
Marwick clicked his tongue in frustration, throwing his hands up in the air. All his years of hard work would be ruined if Nyirád ….if Nyirád . No, he couldn’t even fathom the thought.
“ A boy.” Sora bit her cheek, trying hard to not relish in the Duke’s suffering.
“A boy…..Take me to her..to them!” Marwick went for his cane, but Sora stepped in his way.
“ You must not. The babe was ill formed. It had mutated limbs that were bent and contorted in odd shapes, and its single eye stared blankly. The Goddess granted it mercy by killing it in the womb. But besides that, the outsiders have heard the whispers and rumors of what goes on in within the boundaries of our manor. If you go there now, rumors could spread amongst the other races. We will look weak. They will turn their noses, up, dear Duke.”
Marwick faced turned red with anger. “ and what of Nyirád… ?”
“ We have others. Nyirád can be replaced!”
“others ?” Marwick balked
“ Rynidy, Farrah, Lurín, Timula, they were all beautiful with high Elven features. They look no less than Nyirád did at that age. I’m sure they will also bear beautiful Elven boys.”
“Take me to her…now!”
Sora gritted her teeth. Her pale complexion taking on a pinkish hue as she nodded to someone Marwick hasn’t noticed until now.
“ Duke, I do this for your own good and for the good of our people. Sedate him!”
“ What is the meaning of this?”
Seven heavily armed solider surrounded the Duke, giving him no chance to fight back before dragging him to the bed, where they knocked him unconscious before retreating out the room.
“ It is as you have asked, my lady.” A handsomely rugged elf stepped forward, kneeling so low that his armor kissed the floor.
“ Make sure you spread the story amongst the village. Exactly as I instructed you.”
With a solemn nod, the soldiers trudged away to carry out their duty.
“Headmistress?” A rather dull looking Elven maid called from the doorway.
“ Is it done?”
“ Yes mistress ! The mage said her spell should keep the body warm for at least three days. And we have administered the memory wipe tea to all the field hands and their families. “
“ Good, good. , remember when the Duke comes to everyone must stick to the story. Nyiráds blood was tainted from birthing that wretched low born mutt with purple hair. That mutt’s dark energy polluted and killed our dear daughter. Do you understand? Make no mention of there ever being a boy!”
“ Yes, mistress!”
Sora’s maniacal eyes lit up with a smile as she gazed upon her sleeping husband’s ethereally beautiful face.
…
