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Chapter One

My clothes were in rags; I didn't wear any shoes. The light blue haired, light purple eyed boy sat close to me, shivering from the lack of protection. The room was dark, the only light was from the trap door above our heads. We weren't allowed out of the room for all the years of his young life. He had never seen the sunshine or experienced the feel of wet grass on his bare feet. Yet, he was intelligent enough to imagine these strange objects that I often described to him.

“Daddy,” he said, quietly. “Do you think she'll really do it this time?”

“I don't think she will,” I responded, quietly. I began to cough, again.

“Feeling any better?” he asked, looking up at me.

“No, not really.”

“You're ill, daddy.”

“That's a silly thing to say, Torin. Elves don't get sick,” I said, starting to cough, again.

“You're a half-elf, daddy.” That's right, I thought. Maybe the human genes were more predominant than I thought. Then again, I had never become sick before in my life.

“I'll be okay,” I assured. He looked at me, with worried eyes. The trapdoor creaked over, allowing very little light into the room. A rope ladder followed, then she came down it. Her black hair blended with the darkness of the room, her eyes seemed to glow an eerie purple. She pulled out a dagger from a sheath.

“Don't try anything funny,” she growled. “Especially you,” she pointed the dagger at Torin. His eyes grew wide, and he tried to hide behind me. “Come here,” she commanded, pointing at me. I obeyed, climbing to my feet and slowly walking over to her. She had ropes in her hands. She tied my arms together, tightly, in front of me. Torin watched, quietly and nervously. She pulled me, with the rope, to the other side of the room. “Maggot,” she said, glaring at Torin. “Come here.” He nodded, quickly coming over. “Good,” she said. “Sit.” Torin sat, obediently. She had another rope, which she tied around my neck, firmly, then pulled the ropes through a loop hole embedded in the ground. She knotted the ropes in the hole, so I couldn't budge from the spot.

“What are you doing?” Torin asked, nervously. I could hear his voice, but I couldn't see him or her.

“Shut up!” She snapped. I could feel her tying a rope to each of my ankles, and the end of the rope elsewhere. I struggled to move, but I couldn't. All I could do was wait for what was to happen. My mind ran with all sorts of thoughts, scaring me even more. Instead of doing anything to me, she threw Torin right in front of me. She brought out a whip from her belt. Torin turned around, his eyes wider than I've ever seen them. She began beating him; he yelped at every hit. I could feel the short stings of pain that he was experiencing. Somehow, we were connected the same way Valndi and I had were; maybe because we're related or something. The yelping suddenly died, and he became very still. She continued beating him.

“Torin?” I asked, staring at him. His face was turned to me; his eyes slowly opened.

“Da. . . ddy,” he whispered, closing his eyes. He looked like he was in so much pain.

“Stop it!” I screamed, angrily. She looked at me, pausing.

“You want some?” she asked.

“If that will make you stop hitting him, then yes,” I said, firmly. She smirked, throwing the whip down.

“I'm finished,” she said, taking the dagger back out. “Everything went according to plan, my lord.” Before I could say anything, she embedded the dagger in her breast. Her eyes became incredibly wide. “What?” she said, in a soft voice. She looked down at the dagger in her, blood staining her clothes; then at the small child. “What's going on?”

“Lothwen?” I asked, quietly. She looked at me, with even more surprise.

“Salyti?” she asked, weakly falling to her knees, then onto the floor. “I did this, didn't I?”

“Who was controlling you?”

“I don't remember,” she said, trying to turn over. Her hand grabbed the dagger and she pulled it out, slowly. “Salyti, I'm sorry,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “After the fire, this man found me and he possessed me. I hadn't been free since that time. I'm so sorry,” she made an attempt to throw the dagger over to me. It slid over to my shoulder.

“Lothwen, I didn't know.”

“No one did,” she whispered. “Be careful; he's after you, Sa–” she began choking and her breathing became harder. “Hurry. . . Torin needs help. . .” I nodded, working the bloody dagger over to my tied hands. I quickly discarded the idea, and focused my mind on the dagger. It slowly moved, and then it lifted in the air, enabling me to cut the ropes with my mind. Quickly, I finished the rest of the ropes with my freed hands and went over to my son.

“Torin?” I asked, putting my hand on his shoulder. He slowly opened his eyes, again. “How do you think you're doing?” He didn't respond, just stared at me, blankly. “Torin? Torin?” I asked, beginning to panic. Quickly, I picked him up in my arms and closed my eyes. When I opened them, I was outside of the castle gates, the bright sun blinding me. My eyes quickly adjusted; I climbed to my feet and to the iron gate. Several guards were standing around the gate.

“Halt!” One of them ordered. I kept going; Yamato had said I had an open invitation anytime to the castle.

“Halt!” Another ordered. I ignored them; if I had to get through them, I would deal with them then.

“I said to halt!” the first one ordered, grabbing a strange contraption I had seen before, on Earth. I think Valndi called it a gun.

“Don't make us shoot,” another yelled. All of the had their guns out. A few shots went off; I could see the specks flying towards me. Quickly, I dodged all the specks and ran pass the guards.

“Yamato!” I yelled, as loud as I could. Seeing the red brown haired king's head pop out of a window, I smiled. He hasn't changed at all, I thought. “Open the gates! It's Salyti!”