Alyah

“For centuries, we’ve lived apart from human society. Long ago, when our land and theirs were one, they saw us as inferior creatures. Despite our strength, they enslaved us, and for a thousand years, we served them. We submitted without question, without a fight.

One day, some elves tried to escape—but they were caught. This had been a strategy: draw most men away from their posts, allowing the elviras (female elves) and young elves to seize weapons and fight back.

Unfortunately, most of those elves were killed, made an example of for anyone else daring to rise against their authority."

Alyah paused and looked for the sun in the sky. "It's almost time, we'll finish the lesson next week."

She closed the big, heavy book in her hands.

“But Alyah, if all of our ancestors were slaves, how come we’re not?” asked a curious young elvira.

Alyah stood and began gathering the scattered books from the ground, checking each one carefully for bugs.

“Excellent question, Nasi. Well, there’s always a hero in every story, isn’t there? This story is no exception,” she said as she stacked the books inside a wooden cart.

“Who was it?” Asked a little elf.

“Was it Bethral?” Guessed an older one, teasing her.

Alyah sighed, smiling at their curiosity. “I'll answer all your questions later. We have to go now, or we'll be late for the Bloom Ceremony. But I’ll tell you this: it was NOT Bethral.” She said it mockingly, and the children laughed.

Suddenly, a voice came from behind the trees, “What’s going on here?”

Everyone froze. The deep, raspy, arrogant tone was unmistakable. The young ones ran and hid behind Alyah, jostling quietly, peeking around her to see who it was.

“Bethral! Back already? How… nice.” Alyah's eyes darted, searching the shadows.

“I wouldn’t want to miss your special day.” His laugh was low and sarcastic, echoing from the trees. "I hope you’re not feeding these young elves your foolish stories again.”

Bethral’s voice rang out as he dropped from a tree, his long blonde braid whipping the ground dangerously as he landed before her.

He rose to his full height—an imposing seven feet tall—and his powerful build loomed just a breath away. His gray eyes, sharp and cold, scanned her, and a thick scar crossing his left eye added a harsh edge to his already fearsome presence.

“They’re not foolish stories. It's our history,” Alyah straightened, looking up, meeting his cold, piercing eyes without flinching.

Bethral’s eyes narrowed. “You think you know history, do you?”

“Are you done?” she replied evenly.

“You should be careful with what you teach. Paper holds anything you write on it. Just because it’s in your little books doesn’t make it true.”

His eyes glinted dangerously as he gestured to the young elves. “Come with me.”

Alyah stepped forward, spreading her arms protectively. “They’re with me.”

Bethral didn’t even glance at her. He had already begun walking. “Elves!” His voice boomed.

The children flinched, then bolted past her, gathering at his side. He never broke stride. As they followed, he turned just enough to flash her a smirk over his shoulder—silent, cutting, a reminder of who truly held the power.

Alyah’s fists curled tight, attempting to calm herself down with deep breaths.

“I believe you...”

She looked down and met Nasi’s innocent eyes. The little elvira held one of Alyah’s fists. The sight drained every ounce of anger.

"I know you do." She ruffled Nasi’s hair affectionately and smiled warmly.

Together, they pulled the book-filled cart out of the woods. As always, Nasi’s father was there to pick her up, and with a happy squeal, the little elvira ran straight into his arms.

Large groups of people streamed in and out of the Elder’s Sacred Hall. In the Hall’s main garden, everyone carefully arranged tables, ensuring every plate and vessel was perfectly aligned.

The scent of freshly prepared wild vegetables and roasted meat filled the streets, lifting the spirits of anyone who passed by.

Alyah approached the hall to return the books she had used for her class, and on her way out, she spotted Navir pushing a wooden cart filled with pots.

"Navir!" She called as she ran to him and started to push alongside him.

"How was your class?” He wiped sweat from his forehead, offering a small smile.

“Oh, it was great,” she grunted, pushing hard. “Had a special visitor and everything.”

“Really? Who?”

“Your friend, Bethral,” she said, dripping with sarcasm. Navir froze mid-step.

“He showed up? Again? Wait…isn’t he supposed to be scouting?” His brows furrowed.

“That's what I thought. But he showed up and did his little spectacle, trying to make me look stupid in front of my students...again. I hate when he does that.” She paused to catch her breath.

“I’ll talk to my father…maybe he can—”

“No. Don’t bother the Commander with this. I’m sure he has enough on his plate. Now help me move...this...thing!," She grunted as she attempted to push the cart.

“Then I’ll talk to Bethral,” he said, planting his hands firmly on the cart.

“That's not necessary. I don't want to go through the hassle of burying you after."

“Oh, it's not me that will need to be buried,” he rolled his sleeves.

"Excuse me, but have you seen the guy? His stare alone is enough to pierce through metal.”

“Trust me, I can take him.”

“I'm not entirely convinced.”

"Tsk, just push the cart," he rolled his eyes.

They continued pushing through the busy road. Until they reached outside the Hall's garden. Alyah held the cart steady while he lifted the huge pots and hung them over the fire.

"You're very strong," praised an old woman while feeling Navir's arm.

"That's what I've been telling her." He tipped his head toward Alyah.

"See for yourself." The old lady pulled Alyah's hand to Navir's bicep.

"It's okay, I know he is." Alyah smiled awkwardly, pulling back. "But pots can't fight back and break his face," she whispered under her breath.

"What was that?" Navir walked over, leaning down with his hand behind his ear. "Couldn't hear ya."

“I SAID, pots can't-”

"HAHAHAHA!"

Both their heads cocked to their right. In front of the hall, Bethral leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, towering over a group of beautiful elviras (female elves). Some amused him with stories and jokes, and others fed him fruits.

"Don't even think ab-"

“I’ll be right back,” Navir murmured, jaw tightening.

“Bethral!” He screamed while approaching him.

Bethral turned slowly, eyes narrowing. “Ah. The Commander’s son. Let me guess. You've come to beg for your little friend again?”

Navir crossed his arms. “Leave her alone. You have no right to humiliate her in front of the young ones.”

Bethral chuckled. “Humiliate her? No. I simply corrected her lies." He widened his eyes in feigned concern, ''Unless you prefer your elviras pretty and lying? If that's the case, I'll let her spew her shi-...sorry, lessons.”

The Elviras around them tried to stifle their laughter.

“Everything's just so funny to you, isn't it?” Navir grabbed his arm. “I think deep down you're weak and insecure. Heavy on the weak."

Whispers rippled through the gathered Elviras, and a few other elves stopped to watch the escalating argument.

Bethral’s gray eyes glinted dangerously as he grabbed Navir's arm back. "You want to find out?" His voice dropped, "I don't care you're the..."

"Stop!"

Everyone turned their gaze towards the voice.

“Daddy’s here,” Bethral murmured, immediately releasing Navir.

Navir’s jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed as he stepped back, barely restraining his anger.

“What is this? My best warriors fighting each other in front of the Sacred Hall? Have you no shame?” The commander’s sword clinked softly at his belt as he approached.

With a sigh, he came face to face with Navir. Without breaking eye contact, he snapped his fingers toward Bethral, who immediately retreated the moment the word “Dismissed” left the commander’s lips.

"What are you doing?" The Commander asked.

"Father, I just-"

"No," he interrupted. "Not father. I'm talking to you as Commander Erath."

"...Commander Erath." Navir clenched his jaw, "I was just talking to Bethral."

"Don't tell me it's about Alyah again."

"He keeps interrupting her cl-"

"That is of no concern to you. You are the next in line to lead our great army. How many times must I make clear to you how important it is that you behave as such?"

"I understand, but I was just-"

"No buts, Navir. I will not keep having these conversations with you."

"But Commander Erath, if you would just let me-"

"Dismissed." Erath turned and left without another word.

Navir stood there, fists clenched, replaying his father’s words in his mind.

When he finally snapped out of it, his eyes darted to where Alyah had been. She was gone.