Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
V era’s hand trembled as she dropped the ornate metal candlestick. It clattered to the floor, the sound echoing through the dimly lit room as she stared down at the lifeless body of the Farlain noble sprawled at her feet, his expensive robes now stained with his own blood.
The opulent chamber, with its gilded furnishings, intricate tapestries, and the ornate vases, seemed to mock the violence that had just unfolded. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps as the reality of what she’d done crashed over her like a cold wave: she, a scholar, a teacher, had taken a life. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, as if the shell of her old self was cracking, revealing a stranger beneath.
“I … I didn’t mean to …” she whispered, her voice cracking.
A wave of nausea gripped her, and she stumbled backward, her legs hitting the edge of an ornate chaise lounge. She sank onto it, her whole body shaking uncontrollably.
It had all happened so quickly. The noble had cornered her against the wall, ripping away her gown, his intentions clear in his predatory gaze. She’d grabbed the first thing she could reach - the heavy candlestick - and swung it in desperation.
She’d never meant to kill him. The sickening crunch as metal met skull replayed in her mind, over and over.
“Oh God,” she choked out, doubling over as another wave of nausea hit her. She’d taken a life. Everything she believed in, her dedication to preserving history and learning from it - it all seemed to crumble in the face of this one violent act.
Her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. The pain helped clear her head, if only for a moment. She had to think. What was she going to do?
“It was self-defense,” she muttered. She knew it was true, but would anyone else believe her? “He would have … I had no choice.”
But the words rang hollow in the oppressive silence of the room. She forced herself to look at the body again, her stomach churning. The golden-hued features were frozen into an oddly serene mask, a grotesque contrast to the violence that had just transpired, and she had to look away as the room reeled around her.
Think , she ordered herself again, searching desperately for some intellectual distance. One step at a time - where am I?
She’d regained consciousness in this room, lying on something rather like a portable stretcher. Her initial disorientation gave way to panic as she realized she couldn’t move, even though there were no visible restraints binding her to the stretcher. Her clothes had disappeared, replaced by a short white gown of some thin material. What she could see of the room reminded her of a medieval castle, but she was quite sure it was not. The air felt … different, carrying unfamiliar scents that made her head spin.
The sound of voices reached her and she managed to turn her head enough to see two figures standing in front of an enormous stone fireplace. The taller one was cloaked but she immediately recognized him as the alien who had appeared in her office. The other man was humanoid but clearly not of Earth, with golden skin that shimmered in the candlelight.
“Have you transferred the credits, Lord Dekell?”
Her abductor’s voice was cold, composed, but she understood him perfectly. When the other male spoke she understood him as well.
“I’m not convinced that she meets my specifications,” Dekell complained, but he glanced over at her as he spoke and the lust on his face made her stomach churn.
The tall alien shrugged in an oddly human gesture and turned towards her as well.
“Fine. Then I will take her with me. I have plenty of other buyers-”
“No.” Dekell scowled at the other male. “This was our arrangement. I’ll take her. Here.”
She watched, helpless, as coins exchanged hands. She was being sold as if she were no more than a piece of property. Her heart hammered in her chest, each beat a desperate plea for this to be a nightmare. But the chill in the air and the ache in her muscles as sensation began to return were all too real.
As the cloaked alien turned to leave, she caught a glimpse of his face - as cold and emotionless as his voice. But then he shimmered and disappeared and Dekell turned his full attention to her.
He strode over to her, leering as he studied her. She cringed, trying to pull away, but her limbs were still stiff and unresponsive. Her heart raced uncontrollably as she fought to free herself. She struggled so violently that she’d almost rolled off the narrow stretcher when he reached her side.
“Quit fighting,” he snarled, yanking her upright.
His face was mere inches from hers, his breath hot against her skin. She recoiled, pulling away as far as she could manage, her words coming out in a rush.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I can,” he replied, a malicious grin twisting his lips.
She froze, the full implications of her situation sinking in. This creature was going to do whatever he wanted to her and she was helpless to stop him.
“No!” She shook her head in denial, but her fear only seemed to inflame him more.
“Yes,” he hissed. “You’re mine now, to do with as I please. And believe me, I have a lot of pleasure in mind. At least, it will be pleasurable for me.”
He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Your resistance will only make it more entertaining. You are going to be quite a prize.”
Her heart stopped beating. She might not understand how she’d gotten here or why, but she understood what he wanted - and that she would fight him with her last breath. She tried to twist away from him again, and her body responded well enough that she made it off the far side of the stretcher, clutching it desperately as her knees threatened to give way.
“Oh, good. Nothing like a little chase to whet the appetite.”
Dekell grinned and shoved the stretcher aside. She tried to keep her balance, stumbling back against the wall, and then he was there in front of her, trapping her against it. The fabric of her flimsy gown tore away with one rough tug, leaving her bare and defenseless in front of him.
“Such pale skin. So easy to mark.”
He’d been so busy staring down at her breasts that he didn’t see her reach for the candlestick. He’d gone down without a sound.
Her heart leapt into her throat as a soft gasp pulled her out of her memories. She whirled around, her eyes locking onto a new type of alien - a delicate young female with pale blue skin and small, iridescent wings that fluttered nervously. She appeared to be a servant, dressed in a simple white gown similar to the one Vera had been wearing, and her eyes widened at the sight of the body, her slender frame trembling.
Panic surged through her veins.
“Please, help me,” she pleaded, her voice cracking with desperation. “I didn’t mean to?—”
Before she could finish, the girl darted forward, moving with surprising speed. Her small hand clasped Vera’s, cool and smooth against her clammy skin.
“We must hurry,” the girl whispered urgently, her voice like wind chimes in a breeze.
She blinked, momentarily stunned by the unexpected turn of events. The servant’s grip tightened, surprisingly strong for someone who looked so delicate, and tugged her towards the door. She stumbled forward, her legs feeling like lead. Suddenly remembering that she was naked, she grabbed one of the silk throws off a nearby chair. As she did, she caught another glimpse of Dekell’s body and a wave of nausea washed over her.
The servant pulled her into a dimly lit corridor as Vera wrapped the throw around her.
“I’m Lior,” she whispered, her luminous eyes darting left and right. “We don’t have much time before the guards make their next rounds.”
She nodded, struggling to keep up with Lior’s nimble movements, her body still not completely recovered from stasis. Questions burned on her tongue, but she swallowed them down. Now wasn’t the time for explanations. They rounded a corner, and Vera’s breath caught as she heard the distant sound of heavy footsteps.
Lior’s wings quivered, and she pressed Vera against the wall, into a shadowy alcove. She held her breath, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure it would give them away. The footsteps grew closer and closer, echoing off the ornate walls, as time seemed to slow.
Her shoulders sagged in relief as the guard turned down another corridor, his steps finally fading away. Lior grabbed her hand again, hurrying down the long corridor and then through a concealed door and into a maze of hidden passages. The walls closed in around them, the air thick with dust and the musty scent of disuse. Her pulse thundered in her ears, waiting for an outcry behind them and the sound of chasing footsteps. But other than a few muffled, distant echoes, the only sound was their feet whispering against the stone floor.
“Almost there,” Lior whispered, her voice barely audible over the rush of blood in Vera’s ears.
They rounded another corner, and suddenly, a sliver of light appeared ahead. She squinted, her eyes adjusting to the brightness as Lior pushed open another concealed door.
They stumbled out into a world that took her breath away. Gone were the oppressive walls and suffocating darkness. In their place stretched a lush tropical paradise. Vibrant greenery surrounded them, a stark contrast to the dark, confined interior they’d just left behind.
Exotic flowers bloomed in every direction, their colors so vivid they almost hurt to look at. The air was heavy with their sweet perfume, mixed with the earthy scent of damp soil and greenery.
She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the soft, clean air. For a moment, she felt free. The weight of her circumstances lifted, if only for a heartbeat. The warm sun caressed her skin, familiar even in this alien place.
But reality came crashing back as Lior tugged her forward.
“We can’t linger,” she urged, her wings fluttering nervously.
She nodded, her brief moment of peace shattered, and followed Lior, her bare feet sinking slightly into the rich, damp earth. The lush foliage provided cover, but also made their progress slower. Branches caught at the cloth wrapped around her body and roots constantly threatened to trip her.
Her legs burned as she followed Lior on a seemingly endless journey through the forest, the thick canopy blocking out most of the sunlight. After what felt like hours, the trees began to thin. She caught glimpses of structures through the foliage – simple yet beautiful dwellings that seemed to grow from the forest itself.
They emerged into a clearing, and her breath caught in her throat. A village sprawled before her, unlike anything she’d ever seen. Homes crafted from living trees and vines, connected by a network of ramps and walkways. Children raced between them, their laughter ringing in the air, while adults carried on with the business of life, their iridescent wings catching the sunlight.
It was utterly enchanting. Her fingers itched for a sketchbook and pencil, to capture the wonder of it all.
The villagers turned to stare as Lior led her forward. Their expressions ranged from open curiosity to wary doubt and she blushed, feeling awkward and exposed as she towered over the ethereal villagers.
Lior guided her to a grand tree at the village’s center. Its trunk was hollowed out, forming a natural dwelling. An older female emerged, her wings faded but still beautiful. She studied Vera’s face, her eyes dark and penetrating, and she suddenly felt as if the other female saw every mistake she’d ever made.
“Elder Maeve,” Lior said, bowing slightly. “This is Vera. She needs our help, but I must return before I am missed.”
“Thank you, Lior. You did the right thing.”
The girl flashed her a quick smile, squeezed her hand, and disappeared back into the jungle.
Maeve’s gaze softened, and she beckoned her inside.
“Come, child. You’re safe here.”
Vera hesitated, then followed. The interior was small and her head brushed the ceiling, but it was a cozy space, filled with soft light and the scent of herbs. She sank onto a too-small cushion, her body finally registering its exhaustion.
“Tell me what brought you here,” Maeve said, her voice gentle.
She took a shaky breath and told the older woman everything that had happened, from her abduction to the attempted rape to killing Lord Dekell. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she described her horror and guilt.
“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered, her voice ragged. “I never meant to kill anyone, let alone an alien lord. But I had to defend myself. I couldn’t … I couldn’t let him …”
She shuddered, her hands curling into fists, the memory of Dekell’s hands on her skin, the look in his eyes, still raw and fresh. Maeve put a gentle hand over hers, her touch warm and reassuring, then sighed heavily.
“Your ordeal is tied to our own struggles, I’m afraid. We are the Elvar and these islands are our home. When the Farlain first arrived in their ships to trade with us, we welcomed them. Even when they appointed an ‘ambassador’ to oversee the Isles we did not object. At first. Many of them were good people, but since Ulmat came to power …” She sighed again. “Since then the nobles have oppressed our people, seeing us as little more than property to be exploited. Lord Dekell was the worst of all. He forced us to work for him and demanded huge amounts of tribute. He thought he could do whatever he wanted, even enslave another living being.”
Maeve regarded her thoughtfully, her eyes lingering on Vera’s hair.
“There’s something else you should know,” the Elder said quietly. “There is a prophecy – a savior marked by hair as red as the setting sun, sent by our goddess to free us from oppression. Perhaps your arrival is a sign that the time has come.”
She ran a self-conscious hand through the red tendrils that had escaped her usual braid. The idea was absurd – she was just a grad student, not some prophesied hero. For that matter, she might have made things worse for them. If they discovered that Lior had helped her escape …
“I’m not a s-savior,” she stammered. “But I do want to help. What’s happening to your people is wrong.”
She has no idea what she could do to help, but the thought of doing nothing was unbearable. History was full of examples of what happened to native people when newcomers arrived.
Over the next few days, she threw herself into village life, learning everything she could about the Elvar. Their way of life was simple but not primitive, a combination of nature and technology meshing together seamlessly. For example, they had developed a gravity-fed plumbing system as advanced as modern Earth plumbing, and she realized she had underestimated their level of sophistication.
She helped out where she could, tending to the gardens and collecting firewood while learning the history and politics of the planet. She found the physical work oddly satisfying, feeling a sense of accomplishment with every task she completed, but she itched to record what she was learning. When Maeve gave her a blank notebook and a pen she was delighted and spent time each evening recording her observations.
One afternoon, she paused in her work, straightening to watch a male fly around the village, his wings shimmering in the late afternoon light. Despite their wings, most of the Elvar couldn’t really fly. They could flutter short distances such as from the ground to the lower branches of a tree but they couldn’t take to the open air. A few of them, like the male she was watching, had developed more advanced skills through years of hard work and dedication.
“He’s very talented, isn’t he?” Maeve said, popping up at her elbow.
“He is. Do you know him?”
The older female laughed.
“I should. He’s one of my nest mates.”
“Oh.”
She knew she was blushing. As similar as Elvar society was to human society in most ways, in others they were very different. Their sexual relationships were polyamorous and extremely … fluid. Small groups mated quite openly. More than once she’d stumbled on a tangled web of naked limbs and arms and wings before she’d learned to recognize the chiming cries that indicated a nesting.
“If he intrigues you, you are quite welcome to join us,” Maeve added, but she hastily shook her head, sure that her cheeks must match her hair by now.
“No, thank you.”
“It’s not healthy to repress natural sexual desire. Or do humans not experience such desires?”
She was about to seize gratefully on that excuse when a commotion at the village’s edge drew their attention. A small group of Elvar struggled with something massive caught in a net. As they entered the clearing, her breath caught in her throat.
The net contained another alien, unlike any she’d seen before - towering and muscular, with grayish-blue skin and bat-like wings. Fearsome looking tusks framed a wide, sensual mouth, and his emerald eyes blazed with defiance.
She watched in fascination as the captured warrior assessed his situation, as arrogant as if he were the one in charge. Then with a casual flex of his powerful muscles, he ripped through the net as if it were made of paper. The Elvar surrounding him quickly fluttered away, but she stood her ground, her heart pounding as those cat-like emerald eyes locked onto hers.