Her hair used to be long and soft and a dazzling shade of white, but that time was so long ago she had forgotten it. Her imprisonment seemed everlasting.

She had cut her hair short and tried to keep her eyes a normal shade of blue to blend in with the surrounding humans. But things went wrong, like they always did.

It was her luck that she had been the only girl in the bar that night. It had been her luck that a young man, drunker than she thought possible, would try her patience. He tried to buy her drinks, to sweet talk her, and when she had gotten fed up with him, she had walked out.

He had followed her.

It was in the back alley when he tried to have his way with her that she fought back. Unsheathing her knife she slit his throat. Some would later call it the work of a professional. She would take it as a compliment. He had to die though. He had seen her eyes, he had seen the change in them.

It was not until she had fled the town that she learned the identity of the man she had murdered. Tomas of Riak, the young and prominent General of the Lasca Continental Army, and childhood friend of the self-proclaimed Emperor Lloyd of Kartia.

With this knowledge she had searched for her mother’s people. The ones she knew she could trust. They had turned her away. They could harbor her kind no longer, not with what she had done hanging over her. The Forest Clans refused to take her in, and she knew why. It was all politics. The Elders would never allow one of her kind into their Clan.

From the Forest she had fled to find her father, a man she had never known. She was unsuccessful. The Emperor and his men caught her at the southern tip of the Ita Desert, trying to board a ship that would bring her to the Forbidden Isles.

She had been charged with the assassination of the commanding general, an act of treason punishable by death, and yet, she lived. After a year in prison and having been relocated multiple times, she was still alive.

“Kelly.”

The ragged, mud soaked elf looked up. Her hair was dark from a lack of sun, and had been mudded into dreadlocks. She looked nothing like an elf. Her pointed ears were hidden from view, and her complexion was faded. Her eyes were a constant grey.

She did her best not to cringe as the guard butchered her name for what seemed like the millionth time. Not that she would correct him. If they knew her real name she would be in a lot more trouble than she was in now. Southerners always had the hardest time pronouncing Elvish names. In fact, the only they were good at, that involved Elves, was their persecution, genocide, and enslavement of the ones they could get their hands on.

She heard the swishing of the billowing cloak before she saw it and held back the urge to vomit. Lloyd of Kartia. Or Emperor Lloyd of Lasca as he liked to call himself. The new ruler on the continent, and a pain in her backside.

Lasca was a large nation filled with many different types of People. High ranking officials of each Race meet routinely throughout the year to discuss problems and whatnot in an organization known as the Committee. Then Lloyd of Kartia became spokesman on behalf of the Men. He fed his Race lies about the other Races enticing them to suspicion and fear until they took up arms against the other Races.

Most of the Races had no problems going into hiding, they lived on the fringes of Lasca and could recede into nothingness. The Forest Elves were not so lucky. The two largest forests that they made their home in were in the center of Lasca. They relied on their magic and the mother earth to keep them safe. Anyone who ventured outside the protected cities put his own life at risk, risk of death, or worse, enslavement.

Forest Elves are the most peaceful Race that exists so their rebellions against slavery are minimal, if they occur at all. The uprisings that do happen are caused by exiled Forest Elves who refused to take the oppression. These elite few are part of an organization known as the Coilleach Gang. They are known throughout history as the ones who put the Men back in their place whenever they decide that they are better than the other Races. It is from the Coilleach Gang that the other Races take their lead.

At the time of Tomas of Riak’s murder an attack from the Coilleach Gang had been long overdue. It was only natural that Lloyd suspect they were behind such an attack. He sent his best men after his friend’s killer and had returned successful, dragging behind them an unruly blonde Elven girl.

She had put up quite a fight when they had first captured her. Of the men he had sent after her, too few of them had returned. Her time in captivity had tamed her, to an extent. She paced the length and width of her cell and if she was disturbed, she would lash out. Other times she just sat and stared, her hair obscuring her sharp features and smoky eyes.

Lloyd looked her over as he approached, she was malnourished from her cell life, but she was still well muscled and scrappy with a good tall build. She was beautiful, despite her appearance, though that was not what wholly fascinated him, though there was something about Elven women…She gave off a sense of power? Strength? Security? All of them radiated from her in dizzying doses. Surely she could not have killed Tomas. But she had no problems admitting to it. He visited her almost daily to question her or just to look at her. Whenever he questioned her the answers were the same. She never disclosed her name. She would always describe how the murder had been committed including every gruesome detail that she could to put him on edge. She always denied his murder being affiliated with any of the known groups.

Today would no doubt be like the rest he mused as he sashayed into her cell. Murderer though she claimed to be, he could not kill her. Not yet. Not when there were so many other things that could be done with her. “What is your name?” He asked in an oily smooth Southern accent.

The girl sat reclined on the far wall, her head tilted to look at him better. She was not chained, though she probably should have been. He was not afraid, and neither was she. “It’s not Kelly.” She spat, trying to mimic his accent.

“Who hired you?”

“I needed no money to do what my heart felt was right.”

Llyod tried not to let the words affect him. “Then why did you kill him?” He asked his voice dangerously low.

“He was a little too pushy for my taste. He picked the wrong girl to mess with.”

“Recount the events.”

The girl sighed, this had to be the millionth time. “I stopped in at a tavern to get a nice meal and stock up before moving out. Your friend tried his luck with me. I had a schedule that did not include a Man’s lust, and could not afford distractions such as his, so I ignored him. When I finished my meal I headed out. He followed me. He attacked me on my way to retrieve my horse. I put up a good fight but he wouldn’t back down, so I ended it.”

“The work of a professional.” Lloyd commented.

“Well thanks, when I get out of here I’ll make a note to switch careers.”

“What is it that you do?”

“I deal with animals---all sorts.”

“Who do you work for?”

“I’m self employed. It’s a bit of a family business.” It was mostly true.

“I see.” He paused. “Do you want to tell me your name yet.”

The girl feigned thinking about it and then sighed, “Nah.”

“Why do the guards call you Kelly then?”

She shrugged. “Maybe he felt I needed a name.”

Lloyd turned on his heel and left. Once he was out of sight, the Elf sank against the cold stone and let out a ragged breath. She just wanted to go home. If she even had one anymore. It had been over a year since her mother had been killed. She had left the Gang to her three closest friends while she hunted down the murderer. Who knew where they were now if they were alive at all?