by Lynn Landes
“I am no one’s pet!” she chokes out. Hanging in the air she does not fight, “Kill me, please,” she pleads willing him to destroy her and be done with it. “Free me from this hell!”
The frailty of her neck, pounding of her heart, and the scent of her skin reaches him. This is no demon! “Who are you?” he snarls dropping her. Lilliana lands heavily on her feet and coughs, rubbing her throat she backs away from him.
“I am Lilliana of the Elves, Drow,” she snarls at him.
“I apologize, Lilliana. You are a prisoner of Micah’s as well? She spoke of a singer who would bring forth a new warrior. Are you that which she spoke of?”
“Once I sang, but no more.” Her power is growing weak, so she sits on a nearby rock and closes her eyes against the stain of darkness she feels closing in on her. “I am no one now. A forgotten relic that will fade to legend.” Lifting her stunning face to the vision of the sun, her red hair falls back as she soaks in the rays and prays for a miracle once more.
Dazed by her beauty and the power of this elf, Syrran is sure now she is the true Dragon Singer.
“How many of you exist?” He asks, stepping towards her.
“I am the last, and the only,” her voice is tinged with sadness, but she does not look at him. Instead, she enjoys the last moments of freedom the mirage provides.
“No, you may be the oldest, but I have seen another. It is why she holds me here,” Syrran argues.
Lilliana stands slowly and faces him head on, piercing him with her cobalt eyes. “That’s not possible, Drow,” she sneers at him, “I’m the only…”
“You were the only,” he snaps interrupting her. Lilliana watches as he begins to pace, “There is a human child who rivals you in power. I was sent to capture her and deliver her to Micah. I helped her escape.”
“No…” she whispers, “Is it possible? Have I been here so long that another was sent?” Horror fills her mind. “What year is it?” Lilliana demands.
“You’ve been here for a long time, Lilliana. Long enough that the Elven Queen sent me to see if you still lived and claim the child.”
“The Elven Queen? They’re all dead! You lie!” Her anger flares and the room dims for a second before she clamps down on her emotions.
“I’m sorry Dragon Singer, the kingdom you knew all but died in the wars after your disappearance. There is a new King and Queen in power now,” he informs her.
Blue eyes fills with a storm of emotion. “I see.” Lilliana turns away for a moment to try to process this but it is too much. She stamps it down for now and thinks. “A child with untapped potential and no training!” Her eyes snap to his, when did he get so close to her?
“I was sent to retrieve her, but when I arrived, she was under attack. How can a human child wield such power, Lilliana?” The power of his stare unsettles her. Fully healed now, he is magnificent in his prime. White hair blows about his polished obsidian shoulders.
“Who sent you and why would a Drow care for the misery of others? What’s in it for you?” She demands, ignoring his questions.
His hands twitch with a need to touch her. Her long red hair is dancing in the wind, teasing him, and Syrran wonders if the fire burning in her soul has been snuffed out.
Seeing his intention in his eyes, Lilliana attempts to back away but she is blocked by the river and rocks.
“You speak as though you’ve experience with my kind. What could you know of us? Perhaps you have been too long without a kind touch,” he snarls and pulls her into his arms.
Lilliana gasps and her hands grasp his waist as his mouth takes hers in a searing kiss. Lilliana tastes the mead mixed with the man and she drinks greedily. His hand goes to the back of her neck and his grip softens.
The kiss changes from hot, to needy and his tongue seeks hers over and over. Syrran tastes her sweetness and she washes away all thoughts of torture. Her hands travel from his waist to his scarred chest and she shoves him away from her.
Lilliana’s lips are swollen and her eyes are lit with a flame of outrage, but her cheeks are flushed with passion. She glares at him and releases the vision of her garden. As it fades he runs towards her yelling her name, but he is too late.
Back in the hole, she has called home for longer than she cares to remember, Lilianna wonders who he is and all that he has told her. Trembling with desire she touches her swollen lips. Can he be trusted? Is it possible? “You have been way too long without a lover.” She chuckles to herself with a dark laugh.
Noise from outside her door and excited voices alert her. Lilianna hears the sound of running feet and she struggles to stand. The vision cost her and the last of her magic is gone. Now she will be unable to feed her spirit and she doesn’t know how long she will live after that. Death no longer frightens her, only the thought of enduring endlessly here.
Unable to see in the dark, she walks towards the sounds, stopping when her hand touches a door. Hidden in the fold of her skirt is a shard of flint that she has been saving. It is time to leave this hell behind. “One more time, Lilliana, you can do it,” she mumbles to herself. Her attempts to escape have cost her over the years. The last time they took her wings, but if his words are true, she must find this child!
Syrran snarls when the vision fades, taking the beautiful elf with it. Once again hanging like a fish on a line he is startled when he realizes his wounds are healed. The scars remain, but he is at full strength again. Even the bite mark is gone as though it never existed!
“Who are you Lilliana?” Her kiss was pure and beautiful. He can still taste and feel her. It felt as though she washed through his soul-cleansing it of Micah’s evil mark. He must help her.
Two guards approach from the dim passageway, dangling keys outside his cell. “Ready to play, Mr. Drow?”
“Play hell! I’m gonna eat him!” The second guard laughs and Syrran cusses when they enter his cell.
Hanging from the ceiling with his silver hair shielding his face they do not see his wicked smile. These two nasty beasts have been here before. They have no clue he has been revived. He is ready this time!
Before they can say anything, a soft voice calls out. “Help, I’m bleeding!” It is not the sound of the voice that calls to them, but the scent of fresh blood wafting from the next cell!
They rush from the room, fighting each other to reach her first. Swords are drawn and Syrran watches as they fight to pass at the door to his cell. The bigger demon chops an arm of the other. It runs screaming into the darkness, no longer a worry. The weak never survive long in this hell hole and his blood will beckon to other creatures he’d rather not think about. The guard turns towards her voice with a toothy smile.
Chapter 5
Lilliana waits for the monster to enter her chamber. Terror fills her soul for she knows this will be her last chance to escape. When he opens the windowless granite door the metallic scent of her blood mixed with her fear causes him to drool and snicker with excitement.
“Come on out, Lilly girl. Give us a taste.” He’s a six foot tall Orc holding a large sword in one hand and a burning torch in the other.
Lilliana hides in the corner waiting for him. She has ripped strips off her long ragged smock along with the only blanket she has and braided them into a rope with a slip knot. It takes a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the light filtering in from the hallway and the torch he’s holding.
“I’m bleeding,” she says, lifting her arm to distract him from the rope. His yellow eyes follow the ruby blood running down her pale arm and he licks his lips.
“I can help with that, pretty elf.” He lowers his sword assuming she is defenseless against him, but Lilliana is never defenseless.
She steps back, whimpering as he advances on her fixated by the wound. “Yes, let’s play. I like it when you cry and beg.” The sword scrapes the ground as he stalks towards her. He’s unprepared when she leaps aside dodging a swipe from his clawed hand.
The strike doesn’t come from the front, but
his feet. Lilliana lands and jerks the makeshift slip knot rope pulling it tight around his ankles. He falls to the ground, tossing the torch in one direction and the sword in the other.
Lightning fast, she follows the sound of the metal hitting the ground and snatches up the sword. He is cursing and crawling towards her.
“I’m gonna make it burn now, pretty elfy!” He spits at her and grabs at her legs, only to have her leap again, sliding through his grasp. He roars in rage and jerks his head around, looking for her.
Lilliana quickly steps back into the torch light with the rusty blackened sword raised over her head. Thrusting the blade down through his chest and jerking it free, she expects him to go down.
He looks down at the gaping hole and laughs. “I’m a demon, fool!” he roars, spittle flying.
“Right, ok” she leans down and using the torch lights his hairy, hoofed feet on fire. They ignite instantly, screaming as the flames lick up his legs. When she jumps past him he reaches for her but she is too quick.
Rushing from the room, she hears a familiar voice scream her name, “Lilliana!” The Drow from her vision! She runs towards the sound of his voice in the torch-lit hallway. A door is cracked open and she finds him hanging from the ceiling.
“Quickly, strike the chains! You will never escape without me!” he demands.
“It seems to me, Drow that I did manage to escape without you.” She stares with a smirk at his naked form once more. Lilliana tries to ignore the beauty of his muscular form, now fully healed he is magnificent.
“Not hardly, Elf. These caverns are a maze of tunnels leading to things you do not want to see. Free me!” he demands. A roar from the hall startles her into action.
Terrified they will capture her, she swings the heavy sword and sparks fly as the chain snaps on his leg. The second chain is broken as quickly.
The half burned demon from her cell stumbles inside. Yelling and cursing incoherently. The lower half of his body still smokes from the flames of its greasy hair burning off. His rage filled red eyes find Lilliana, “You elf bitch! I’m gonna kill you good and slow now!”
“Lilliana, to me!” Syrran yells and she doesn’t hesitate. Running behind him the creature follows and Syrran swings out, kicking the enraged orc. It crashes into the wall with a crunch and slides down to the ground in a heap, unconscious.
Lilliana watches aware that she is trading one evil for another, but hoping he will be enough of a distraction that she can escape. Turning to leave, his voice stops her.
“Lilliana, your King, and Queen sent me to free you. You will never escape without me!”
The orc is groaning on the floor and she knows he speaks truth. Without another thought she leaps into the air, red hair flowing, blue eyes flashing and cuts the chains that hold Syrran captive.
“You should not underestimate me, Drow!” Lilliana snaps pointing the large sword at him.
He falls lightly to his feet and whips the chain dangling from his right arm out, wrapping it around the sword and jerks it from her hand.
“Thank you for the warning. Follow me and leave the torch.” He spins the heavy sword and severs the head of the demon on the floor.
“That is how you kill a demon, Lilliana.”
With his full strength returned, Syrran is superbly fast and a deadly opponent. Fear has her spinning with the torch in hand and racing towards the door. Before she takes two steps the torch is extinguished and she is cast back into inky, black, darkness.
“We do not have time for this, you will have to trust me if you wish to survive,” his voice urges and when his hand touches her she grasps it tightly and the room flares to life.
“I can see!” she gasps staring up into his amber eyes.
“As long as we stay in contact, I can share my sight with you.” He pulls her along through the doorway and into the dim torch lit passage.
“Tell me your name, Drow,” she pleads stumbling along with her hand held tightly in his.
“I am Syrran, Dragon Singer.” He ignores her startled inhale and pulls her down another hall towards a small door.
“You know who I am?”
“It is as I said. I was sent to retrieve you.” He continues in the cold, damp halls.
“Where are we going?” She questions with a whisper.
“We need weapons if we are going to survive. I can’t very well run around naked in the bowels of this hell.” He kicks a door open and shoves her inside.
“I would help, but I used the last of my magic healing you.”
“Thank you. Your kindness will not be forgotten.”
Lilliana keeps a tight hold on his hand and finds a room full of all the weaponry they will need. He tries to walk away but she will not drop his hand.
“Lilliana?” Syrran whispers. The sound of her name spoken from his lips sends a tremor through her body. His eyes flash as though he can read her mind.
“No more darkness, Syrran. I can’t do it again,” she murmurs hiding her shame from him.
“I only need a minute. I promise not to leave you,” he replies gruffly. Drow have no problem seeing in the darkness. This time, when he pulls away, he does so gently and talks to her as he works. Lilliana closes her eyes against the absolute blackness, waiting for his touch to return her to the light.
He chooses a pair of leather pants and pulls them on and pairs it with a black leather shirt and studded metallic gauntlets for each arm. Black boots follow, and he chooses two long swords and a dagger for his boot. The clothing adjusts to fit his form as he puts it on. The enchantments worked into the material and leather allows them to fit whoever wears it.
“How long have you been her prisoner, Lilliana?”
“Years, decades… I have no clue. I lost track of time here in this hell, but I remember… how she killed them all…” her voice fades away and he hears the pain in her soul.
His hand touches her face softly causing her to jerk in shock until the room brightens. For a moment all the pain of the past is forgotten as his heat floods her cold skin and she savors the feel of it. Staring into eyes the color of melted gold, Lilliana wonders if he is going to be her death or an answer to her prayers.
“Can you use a weapon?” he asks.
Lillian rips her eyes from his and looks around, taking stock. “I am proficient with a crossbow and throwing knives.”
His hand trails down her face, shoulder, and arm, to her hand. Goosebumps erupt following the path of his touch and Syrran smiles pulling her towards a table, so she can choose. With one hand in constant contact with his, body Lilliana selects knives, a crossbow, and quiver, along with a short sword.
“These will do nicely. Where did you get the clothing? I can’t run in this damn smock.” Looking down he notices for the first time, the ripped and tattered rag she is wearing.
He leads her to another corner and quickly grabs pants, boots and a shirt for her. They are black leather to match his. She drops the weapons on a shelf.
“Perfect!” She quickly releases his hand and the room snaps back to darkness. When he touches her shoulders she sighs with relief. “Thank you, Syrran. I may have misjudged you earlier. I have only known Drow to be…evil.” Quickly, she pulls on the pants under her dress along with the boots before jerking the torn rag over her head and throws it across the room. The pants form to her body and she tries not to respond to his touch as she works at the shirt turning her naked back to him.
Syrran watches and his mouth goes dry when she pulls her dress off. Lilliana is perfection, ivory skin, and beautiful lean muscles. Her full, pink tipped breasts are perfection. Before she can turn away he realizes she is scarred. Ribbons of scars crisscross her in a grid pattern. Burns and slices! He growls in his throat and runs his fingertips over them. Chills erupt at the gentleness of his touch. Two large rippled scars are white from age, no doubt where her wings used to be.
She startles and turns covering her shame with a cotton shirt and leather vest. “I don’t need your pity!”
Stunned by the vehemence in her voice he pulls her against his war-hardened body and she feels the evidence of his arousal. “If we had time, Lilliana, I would show you what I’m truly feeling, but we must go.”
Lilliana jerks free and grabs a belt to carry the bolts for her crossbow and straps it around her waist. She looks around and finds scabbards for the sword and knives as well. “Don’t flatter yourself, Syrran. I am no young maiden who will fall for your beauty! The only thing I am lusting for right now is my freedom. Now which way?” she hisses.
“Ahh, Lilliana don’t tempt me to take what we both need!” His eyes drop to her lips once more and he is tempted by her. Disturbed by the feelings he is having, he grumbles and pulls her along once more. As a dark elf, Syrran is uncomfortable holding such a feminine hand. Drow are not gentle creatures, they live for the here and now, serving only themselves. He can feel the fragile bones beneath his and he wonders how it is that she has survived this ordeal. The strength of her spirit humbles him.
They move in silence through the caverns, but instead of heading up they seem to be moving deeper inside the mountain. The air grows humid and begins to smell like rotten eggs. Lilliana squeezes his hand and stays close to the dark warrior as he leads her to… to what end? What if she chose wrong? What if this is a trap? Drow are selfish, sadistic, evil, sexist, power hungry, elves! Her breathing begins to increase. Panic starts to set in and she is thinking about running from him when he grabs her and pins her to a granite wall behind a large boulder.
“Shhh,” Syrran’s eyes glow golden and she feels a scream building. He whispers in her ear, “Cormlle naa Tanya tel’taa,” ‘Your heart is that of the lion, Lilliana.’
Hearing her native language in his voice calms her soul and she buries her face in his neck and hides, savoring the feel and scent of him. Tears threaten and she clutches at his waist, waiting for the sound of whatever threat he perceived. How is it possible that he is so kind to her? Hiding in the darkness she finds that she does not care about the why, she simply takes what she needs from him. ‘Who is the selfish one now, Lilliana?’ She wonders.
