Pointed

She froze when she heard the crack of stick under a heavy boot. It was so close, too close. When she heard someone approaching from far off, she thought it was one of the scouts from the group and didn’t give it a second thought. When she looked up, she saw rounded ears and wide eyes staring at her and now running through the trees. Immediately, she used her magic to cloak herself. It would only last a few seconds without her staff, so she needed to get out of sight fast. Her clothes and bow were lying near a bush but there was no time to get to them; instead she climbed the nearest tree. It was no good. The man noticed the shaking branches and spotted her as soon as the spell faded. He wasn’t equipped with bow so she thanked the Gods for that at least. She shot the Gift of Fire from her free hand in an attempt to set his clothes aflame. It worked. While he frantically tried to pat out the flames she made a run for her things. The man started to scream when he became drenched in her golden flames and he threw himself into the brook where she was bathing. Elénaril seized the opportunity and aimed her bow. As soon as he emerged from the water, there was an arrow in his throat.

This was the first time she killed a man. Kill or be killed. She heard it a few times from the scout leader, but thinking of the words did nothing for the knots in her stomach. She wretched up the little breakfast the scouts had that morning all over the ground. The heaving did not stop until there was nothing but bile that stung in her throat. When it finally ceased, she wiped her mouth and got dressed. She walked over to the lifeless body lying in the water, regretting the decision as she made it. The first human I’ve ever seen and I killed him… The man had a broken nose, brown eyes and sunken cheeks. These humans looked like elves, except for their rounded ears and thicker builds. It didn’t make sense to Elénaril how they could look so alike yet have so much hate for one another to the point of war.

As she was leaving the dead man in the river, she heard 3 horses coming from the direction the man was standing. They must’ve heard his screams. She went into the trees and ran alongside the river so she wouldn’t get lost. When the men reached the brook, they saw their dead comrade bleeding into the water. One of the men sunk to his knees while another started barking orders. Quickly, they spread out, upriver, across the brook and downriver. One of the men was approaching her. She would never be able to outrun his horse, so she hid in the bushes and readied her bow. The horseman passed as she held her breath and by chance she wasn’t noticed. She turned in the direction of the camp and ran for her life.

Suddenly, the whir of arrows were flying by her, just barely missing their mark. She looked in the direction of the arrows and saw the man who went across the river. She began to look back in the direction she was running and noticed a little too late of the incoming tree. She hit it face first and whirled to the ground. Weren't elves supposed to be graceful? She thought to herself. As she got up an agonizing pain reverberated through her entire being. She looked down and stifled a scream when she saw an arrow protruding through the top of her thigh. He yelled at her as he started closing in “Gotcha now, pointy!” Real clever. She cloaked herself once more and loosed arrows the fastest she ever had. Most of them missed or hit his armor to no avail but she finally got one straight in the eye before he was upon her. The horse reared at the smell of blood and the man fell off. Elénaril tried her best to calm the horse but it took too long. By the time she was mounted, the other men were closing in towards the sound of the scream. She rode but this horse was foreign and she had lost all sense of direction.

The men came upon her when the trees broke open and she was back at the river. “Damn it!” She cursed. The horsed refused to go into the water. She tried shooting more arrows but it was no use. The horse was completely unstable and flung her off into the water when the other men unsheathed their swords. My hair… The dye ran from her hair into her eyes blinding her. With nothing left to lose, she called out for her lover as loud as she possibly could before there was nothing but darkness.