Ayisha
Ayisha fished through her pockets for that one last coin. She pulled it out confidently, setting it down on the countertop with a quiet thunk. She looked up hesitantly, trying to decipher the look on the salesman's face. He fingered the few coins in his chubby fingers, rolling them back and forth over his fingertips and smiling cruelly. Ayisha sighed as she came to the irritating conclusion that, once again, her money would not be accepted here, so she stepped forward to take her coins back.
"No, no," the clerk said, pulling his arm back with a snap. "You put the coins on this counter. They are mine now; you will not get them back."
Confused and slightly angry, Ayisha stepped closer to the sales clerk. She snatched at the money again, but could not grab it, missing the ugly elf's fingers by no more than a hair. "Well, has the transaction gone through?" Ayisha asked with uncertainty in her voice. "Will I get the bread, or have you stolen from me?"
The salesman stepped forward slowly, all too slowly, and let the coins drop on the counter with an echoing sound. Ayisha scooped them up with one hand and looked up at the elf towering over her. "I know what you are up to, traitor," he spat. "You have brought the Grey Elves to us. They're here, I can tell."
"I'm sorry, what?" Ayisha asked, looking around wildly. She couldn't see anything except for confused customers.
With a thunk and a scream, an old elf next to Ayisha fell, an arrow protruding from the centre of his chest. As if it were instinct, Ayisha dropped to the floor in the midst of all the chaos and mayhem and began to crawl. She could practically smell the spilt blood, and her head was being pushed into various objects as people ran by. She was thankful for her short hair, as people seemed to think she was a traitor and kept trying to pull it.
Grey Elves flooded the small shop as they began their deadly descent on the innocent shoppers. Ayisha didn't know their incentives, and she didn't want to. Light Elves from all over Eura knew of the terrible deeds that caused the Great War and had heard tales of the Grey Elves and what their goals were. None of the Light Elves had ever wanted to meet a Grey Elf, yet Ayisha seemed to run into them too much. In all honesty, she found it kind of funny.
Letting out a long sigh, Ayisha rolled out of the shop door, which was propped open with a stone. She wanted to help the innocent elves still in the bustling supermarket, but she knew that running in their alone and unarmed was a death wish. Instead, she stood up and began to run along the town square. Sometimes, Ayisha found it quite cowardly to run from her problems, but as an ex-spy for the Light Elves, she knew that the Greys were hunting her all day, every day. She couldn't risk the information she kept secret.
Ayisha's feet made a thud every time they hit the dusty stones on the road. The sun shined down on her; its heat radiated everywhere and causing her to sweat from the smallest amount of activity. Her face shone and glistened with preparation, and she began to breathe a little more heavily as she continued to run. The piercing screams coming from behind her had started to fade into silence as the Greys finished their job. Ayisha shuddered at the thought of the genocide of her fellow Lights just for being where she was.
It was then that she decided it. Ayisha could not hide out in little rooms that she rented and find her food in the shops like everyone else. She just had to venture into the woods, where no one lived, and spend her days there until the war died down. It would be hard, deadly even, and who knew what surprises awaited her? Still, though, she needed to do it, from the bottom of her soul to the outermost shell of her mind.
Her pace slowed to a walk as the sun began to dip below the mountains beyond and as she got closer to the forest. Ayisha's eyes flitted every which way, looking at a bird's nest high up in one tree, and a syrup hole in another. She took note of the three medium sized stones near where the path ended, and the forest began. Taking a deep breath, Ayisha hurried into the woods, dodging thorns and ducking through the brush. Her feet were silent as they avoided sticks and landed on padded leaves. But despite her absolute silence, somewhere, behind her or next to her or in front of her, there was a crunching sound of a twig snapping in half.
Immediately, Ayisha's hand shot to the dagger hidden under layers of clothing at her hips. She pulled it out of its sheath and gripped it with an iron fist, her knuckles turning white. The person in the woods must have noticed because someone began to whisper quiet words that Ayisha couldn't discover. They weren't simple elvish, they were a language that had the power to corrupt, to destroy, yet also give strength to those in need. It was an exciting language.
Ayisha began to feel tired at an extremely rapid pace. Her eyelids began to close and black spots clouded her vision. Her head felt heavy and she stumbled around blindly, trying to find her hidden foe. But to no avail. Quickly and quietly, she fell down and slept.
