brutal."
She lowered her gaze, and her form seemed to dim somewhat. It was hard to tell in the misty Realm. "I never did see his face. He attacked me from behind. I yanked at his clothes and tried to fight him off, but he was far too strong."
The sound of her bitter tears was all that remained, long after her form departed.
Every barbarian would pay. Male, female, child. The entire race would be blighted out of existence. Soon, the elves would be extinct as well, and no more of that vile union of human and elf would ever walk the face of the earth again.
So Lukor swore.
Ivy picked at her fingernails. Her mother had rattled off the names of many of the guards. Although most of them still lived, Ivy had never thought of any of them as a good potential ruler of the barbarian throne. Indeed, any barbarian, including her, probably would never make a good and decent ruler. Too emotional, for one, too reckless and foolhardy and eager for battle. Even now, when she was trying so hard to keep her people from war, her ears ached with want to hear the cries of the fallen, her nose to smell spilled blood, her hand to wield a blade against a foe.
"I'm surprised you have not yet mentioned Angar," Ivy eventually broke in.
Her mother's face turned ashen until Ivy could no longer see it.
"Mother, wait!" Ivy dashed forward, but her mother's form was gone.
A sudden cold breeze from behind had Ivy slowly turning around to see an elf. With long pointed ears, the tips above his head, silver eyes, and a regal air about him, the elf held out his palms. "Ivy, the princess of the barbarians."
"Yes, I am she."
"Barbarian-Princess for not much longer."
"For I will be amongst those here soon?" Or her father? For her to become barbaroness meant he had first died.
"The time for the barbarians will soon come to an end."
As she feared. Those children. She would do anything for them, to give them a safe and happy future. If it 'twere possible for barbarians to experience such an existence.
"Are you a soothteller?" Could she believe his words? Or had he been living within the mist so long he no longer knew what he was saying? Although he did know her by name...
"The time for the barbarians will soon come to an end," he repeated. "And a new race will be spawned in its stead."
A new race? Shoving her curiosity aside, she demanded, "Surely there is something that can be done to save the barbarians. After all, you elves have lasted for so long despite your far fewer numbers."
"True, but we are not driven by emotions, but by reason and the light."
"So, what makes us barbarians will be our undoing."
"Ah, a reasonable statement. I feared none of your race even knew what reason was. Too much of your human side clouds your judgment."
Perhaps her human side accounted for her burning need to save her people.
"Tell me, elf," she demanded, "if a barbarian lives in seclusion and never gives into Bloodlust, would she or he live as long as your race?"
Some elves lived for centuries. That is, if they did not die in battle or chose to sleep eternally. Those elves were said to voluntarily pass on to the Spirit Realm, to join their brethren before them.
"A barbarian cannot live in seclusion. Solitude is not in your nature."
"But if they avoided a death by blade?" she persisted.
He tilted his head to the side. "Theoretically, it might be possible. The oldest a barbarian has reached is forty-three. The eldest a human — one hundred and twenty. The eldest an elf — three hundred and thirty-three. A goliath—"
"Much longer than barbarians, I get the point." Ivy glanced away. When her gaze returned to the elf, he was gone.
"A new race will be spawned in its stead," his invisible body said.
Not if she had any say in the matter. If there was one thing Ivy knew, it was to never aggravate a barbarian. Especially not her.
Ivy took only one step forward when something cold touched her. Even more frigid than the air surrounding her. Her skin burned at
She lowered her gaze, and her form seemed to dim somewhat. It was hard to tell in the misty Realm. "I never did see his face. He attacked me from behind. I yanked at his clothes and tried to fight him off, but he was far too strong."
The sound of her bitter tears was all that remained, long after her form departed.
Every barbarian would pay. Male, female, child. The entire race would be blighted out of existence. Soon, the elves would be extinct as well, and no more of that vile union of human and elf would ever walk the face of the earth again.
So Lukor swore.
Ivy picked at her fingernails. Her mother had rattled off the names of many of the guards. Although most of them still lived, Ivy had never thought of any of them as a good potential ruler of the barbarian throne. Indeed, any barbarian, including her, probably would never make a good and decent ruler. Too emotional, for one, too reckless and foolhardy and eager for battle. Even now, when she was trying so hard to keep her people from war, her ears ached with want to hear the cries of the fallen, her nose to smell spilled blood, her hand to wield a blade against a foe.
"I'm surprised you have not yet mentioned Angar," Ivy eventually broke in.
Her mother's face turned ashen until Ivy could no longer see it.
"Mother, wait!" Ivy dashed forward, but her mother's form was gone.
A sudden cold breeze from behind had Ivy slowly turning around to see an elf. With long pointed ears, the tips above his head, silver eyes, and a regal air about him, the elf held out his palms. "Ivy, the princess of the barbarians."
"Yes, I am she."
"Barbarian-Princess for not much longer."
"For I will be amongst those here soon?" Or her father? For her to become barbaroness meant he had first died.
"The time for the barbarians will soon come to an end."
As she feared. Those children. She would do anything for them, to give them a safe and happy future. If it 'twere possible for barbarians to experience such an existence.
"Are you a soothteller?" Could she believe his words? Or had he been living within the mist so long he no longer knew what he was saying? Although he did know her by name...
"The time for the barbarians will soon come to an end," he repeated. "And a new race will be spawned in its stead."
A new race? Shoving her curiosity aside, she demanded, "Surely there is something that can be done to save the barbarians. After all, you elves have lasted for so long despite your far fewer numbers."
"True, but we are not driven by emotions, but by reason and the light."
"So, what makes us barbarians will be our undoing."
"Ah, a reasonable statement. I feared none of your race even knew what reason was. Too much of your human side clouds your judgment."
Perhaps her human side accounted for her burning need to save her people.
"Tell me, elf," she demanded, "if a barbarian lives in seclusion and never gives into Bloodlust, would she or he live as long as your race?"
Some elves lived for centuries. That is, if they did not die in battle or chose to sleep eternally. Those elves were said to voluntarily pass on to the Spirit Realm, to join their brethren before them.
"A barbarian cannot live in seclusion. Solitude is not in your nature."
"But if they avoided a death by blade?" she persisted.
He tilted his head to the side. "Theoretically, it might be possible. The oldest a barbarian has reached is forty-three. The eldest a human — one hundred and twenty. The eldest an elf — three hundred and thirty-three. A goliath—"
"Much longer than barbarians, I get the point." Ivy glanced away. When her gaze returned to the elf, he was gone.
"A new race will be spawned in its stead," his invisible body said.
Not if she had any say in the matter. If there was one thing Ivy knew, it was to never aggravate a barbarian. Especially not her.
Ivy took only one step forward when something cold touched her. Even more frigid than the air surrounding her. Her skin burned at
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