The Dark Forest, Part 2

if there's even anyone left who reads this, here's the second part...it's a little early, but oh well...
-enna


To the Cottage
The orange of the early sunset paints the windows of the small cottage a fiery gold. I shudder as I gallop toward the place. Too much light is in this clearing, where dwells the girl with hair of flame and eyes of ice. It is fitting, then, that I must sacrifice this light-dweller to bring darkness to this whole world.

I crave darkness above all else. I am originally a subterranean dweller, but my own kin threw me out when they saw the blackness of my heart. Fitting it is, what they call me. Yes, I know what they say behind my back – that I am evil incarnate, that my powers are derived from the dark god Pyragmon. These frightened creatures call all magic-users “elves” to distinguish us from those who do not control the forces of the night. I watch them from my tower, struggling with mundane tasks, when if they would simply apply themselves, they could finish the tasks with a snap of their fingers.

No matter. Soon, they will realize my power. By then, I will be unstoppable. But first, I need the girl.

I’ve tried to acquire limitless power without the sacrifice – mainly because I knew the villagers would try to protect her identity. However, none of my efforts yielded any result worth mentioning. I must obtain this level of power!

The trees around me give way to the clearing of light. I quickly have my mount, a stallion as black as my own heart, back out of the light.

The girl is there, wringing the water out of some white piece of material. She is bent over a basin filled with sudsy water, completely unaware of my presence. I watch her for a little while, almost fascinated by the ways of this strange creature.

I cannot see her eyes from where I sit, but her hair is stunningly obvious. Flame-gold, it tumbles down her back in a river of light, contrasting with the blue of her simple dress. Her skin is so white, I almost cannot tell the difference between her hands and the white cloth she is washing. She suddenly raises her head, and I catch myself before I gasp. Her icy blue eyes are clear and piercing, and seem to have beams of light coming from them. Her features are small and delicate, her lips full and red. Most men would call her a beauty.

For me, it is simply another confirmation that this is the girl I seek.

She turns back to her washing. As she does so, I dismount, landing silently on the forest floor. She is seemingly unaware of my slow approach. I slip behind her without a word, and am surprised when she speaks. “You don’t need to sneak around,” she says, and turns towards me.

Her eyes widen in shock when she sees me. I smile, mocking her surprise. “Am I not who you thought?”

Her skin, already so pale, has managed to become even moreso. She does not answer my question, only speaks three small words. “The Dark Elf.”


Confrontation
I have never seen the Dark Elf before, but I know that this is he. His skin is deathly pale, almost as pale as my own. Even the slight hint of olive cannot lessen the contrast between his skin and his black hair, or his eyes. His eyes are what truly frighten me. Blood-red, they seem demonic. Although, if all the stories are true, he is a demon.

He takes another step toward me. His eyes never leaving mine, he snaps his long fingers. A horse with the same demonic eyes trots out of the forest toward the Dark Elf. He speaks again, in his deceptively pleasant voice. “Will you come for a ride with me?” I know he means a ride to my death, though why he chose me for such a terror is beyond my comprehension.

Before I have a chance to answer, my father runs into the clearing. He has his long knife in his hand, ready to fight. “No! Not Amarie!”

The Dark Elf turns to him. “I don’t believe I asked you, Kristof.” A shimmering knife appears in his hand as he speaks.

“She is not the one you need,” my father shoots back.

The Dark Elf smiles mockingly and gestures around the clearing. “Then tell me, Kristof, where can I find another virgin with hair of flame and eyes of ice?”

All at once, I know why he has come. “You want me for the sacrifice.” I speak calmly, not revealing the turmoil and chaos now whirling within my soul.

The elf turns back toward me. “Yes,” he says simply. “Will you come?”

I will my voice not to shake as I reply. “I will never give my life to Pyragmon!”

In two bounds, the elf is at my side. He thrusts his knife into his belt and grabs my arm in a grip so tight, I cry out. He wrenches me up, throws me on his horse, and begins to tie me to the saddle. Everything is suddenly moving so much faster than normal, as if someone decided to speed up time.

My father bellows, as a wounded animal does. He crosses the clearing at lightning speed and raises his knife to strike and kill the elf.

Suddenly, time has stopped moving so fast. Instead, it moves so slow that every second seems to be an hour. I am held captive, both by the rope and by the horror of the scene before me.
The Dark Elf’s knife shimmers into his hand. Some distant corner of my mind wonders how it got there; I did not see his hand return to his belt. He parries my father’s blow and knocks the knife from Kristof’s hand. The knife flashes in the air. Crimson blood sprays from a wound. My father cries out. The Dark Elf quickly wipes his knife on the grass and returns it to his belt. He strides to me, quickly finishes tying the knots, and mounts. The animal rears and paws the sky with its hooves. As it dashes from the light into the darkness of the forest, I crane my head for a final look at my father.

He is lying upon the ground. Blood is streaming from a gash in his arm. He looks at me, and the sorrow and anger in his eyes begins to consume his features. Before he can stand, I am whisked away to a petrifying and uncertain future.


“With Your Blood”
I am thrilled. This was an extremely easy venture. The village is gone, yes, but I didn’t need any of those people. They were expendable, unnecessary for anything except my brief enjoyment. I revel in the pain I cause others. Though I possess the dark abilities to twist the world to my liking, I still relish the chance to apply my hand to my favorite craft.

The girl struggles against her bonds. I chuckle softly, a sound completely swallowed by the encroaching darkness. Oddly enough, though, the complete darkness won’t envelop me as it normally does. It stays back, allowing the softer darkness of night to surround the girl. She seems to be saying something. I stop my horse and dismount. I wrench her face so that she can see me. Her eyes are filled with tears and some petty human emotion. I whisper to her, “No calling for help. No lightness will reach you now.” I rip a length of material from the hem of her dress and use it to gag her, then untie her from the saddle.

She attempts to run. I catch her easily and laugh. The haunting sound echoes off the trees. I tie her hands and feet, and loop the rope around her arms and legs for good measure. I lift her in front of the saddle, then remount and urge my horse onward. We are mere minutes away from the castle.

Her struggling does not cease the entire way there. Though her mutterings have stopped, the darkness refuses to enfold me. I curse this creature of the light. It is she who must be keeping the darkness from me.

We clatter into the courtyard. I dismount and drop the portcullis. I turn back to the girl, sitting on the black stallion. He is fidgety. Her eyes are wide in terror as he prances, snorting and pawing the ground. Suddenly, he rears and screams. It is an eerie sound, almost human with a demonic undertone. The girl screams as well as she falls from his back. He bolts from the courtyard, and I dart to catch the girl. She must not be harmed before the sacrifice. I set her lightly on her feet and loose her bonds.

Her clear, icy eyes seem to probe the depths of my own bloody orbs. “Why have you brought me here?”

I am pleasant with her. No need to frighten her more than is absolutely necessary, else she might hurt herself. “With your blood, I can have the power I seek.”

“Then why do you not simply cut my arm and take a vial of the blood? You can do that; just let me go to my father!” She holds out her white forearm, the blue veins showing clearly against her alabaster skin, her eyes pleading.

I gently push her hand back to her side and lean closer, until her face is mere inches from mine. “I cannot take a single vial of blood. The sacrifice demands all of your blood.”

A fury ignites in her eyes as she backs away. “No! I will not be an instrument of your dark god! Lux terrae, orationem meam audi! Adiuve...”*

“NO!” I screech. Her words brand themselves like light upon my vision. I cannot let her finish! I throw myself at her and tackle her to the ground. As we fall, I roll so that it is not she who strikes the ground, but my own back. I put my hand over her mouth. She bites it. I speak quickly. “Lige lucem in loco hoc!”**

She is bound by ropes of darkness. Her mouth is covered by one strong strand. Her clear eyes shimmer with defiance. I smile back mockingly, then twist my hand in a strange movement. She is lifted to a high tower with a flat roof. This is the tower whence the sacrifice will take place. I begin to mount the stairs. The time is almost here. Soon I shall be invincible.

*Light of the world, hear my prayer! Help...
**Bind the light in this place!