The entrance to the warren was far easier to find than I had imagined. In my head I had pictured some sort of Middle Earth Mines of Moria set up with magical doors and tentacle beasts lurking everywhere. A simple rather large, but plain cave opening in the side of a cliff face had not played into my mental picture at all. There weren’t even any statues of fearsome Elven gods glowering down like silent sentinels of doom on any who dared enter their domain. A few baskets and some pots but otherwise nothing to distinguish it from any other damp hole in the side of a dirt wall. I sighed. It was, in a word, disappointing.
While outside the morning sun had begun to beat down, pushing away the chill autumn dawn like so much dust before a Roomba, inside was cool and damp. Water trickled in rivulets down the walls and pooled along the sides of the cave. My vision easily picked out the rough-hewn walls despite the darkness. Moss grew thick in clumps and the occasional tree root had pressed through the walls in an attempt to reclaim the cave. Suddenly, I stopped dead, the gentle drip of water into the dark pools on the floor of the cave the only sound disturbing the silence.
Did the Countess like me? I glared into the darkness, my vision dancing along the walls and floor. Did she want to have sex with me? No. Certainly not. But…maybe. I started walking again, my footfalls silent on the stone. I bet she was a domme. Yeah. Totally into the BDSM thing. Did I want the countess to tie me down and smack my ass until it was red and then make me do immoral and unclean things? Maaaybe… I did have a box of sex toys at home we could use. My favorite was the pink dildo because it had “pleasure knobs” affixed at strategic locations. I’d paid extra for the experience, but it had been totally worth it. I sighed in frustration. I missed my box of toys.
I wonder if the countess would use them on me if I was in my own world. A shiver ran down my spine at the thought. Maybe I could use them on her! I didn’t much fancy myself a full-time sub, but I bet I could be a switch. Top on even days or something? A relationship based on bodily fluids and equality. I pictured the countess, lying on my bed in the apartment, her naked skin glistening with sweat and desire in the lights from the strip mall down the street. Our lips would meet in a frantic kiss. I’d run my fingers down her body, over her luscious breasts and firm belly, lower, seeking her warmth. Her mouth would open, and she’d whisper in a husky voice filled with lust “What, actually, are you doing?” I giggled slightly, the sound echoing off the stone walls. Yeah, right, like any of that would ever happen. Well, except the hostility. That part seemed more than likely.
Still, if she wasn’t so infuriating, hateful, and sadistic she would totally be my type. I bet she’d look amazing in a bikini. Or, for that matter, out of a bikini. She plainly ha a banging body, I decided. Nice boobs, probably an amazing butt, luscious hips, a pretty face with glorious lips. But her personality was just God awful. Not to mention she’d tortured and killed me. That definitely didn’t raise her any in my estimation. Still, I wouldn’t turn down the chance to get a little carnal payback were the opportunity to arise. And she did call me by my real name. I felt my heart skip a beat as I remembered the words “be careful, Minji Song.” Not only had she used my real name, but she was worried for me! I’d still stab her in the kidney if I got the chance. Probably. Maybe. But for some reason her concern made me feel better than I had since this whole shit storm had begun raging around me like a typhoon of…well…shit, I supposed.
I stopped dead in my tracks again. What if she was being sarcastic? Be careful? What if she was actually wishing hateful crap on me secretly. I played the words over in my head, analyzing her tone. Gah! She was inscrutable most of the time, so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility she’d just been messing with me. Telling me to be careful while silently mocking me in her head. That seemed more like her. Yeah. I bet she was chuckling to herself in the back of her stupid carriage right now at tricking me and sending me into some hellhole to get eaten over and over by monsters.
That bitch! To hell with her. I’m not letting her domme me after all. Not after this afront! I’d still top her, but to hell with playing the submissive. I am a proud…er…half elf, I guess, at the moment. I don’t need to put up with her crap! I’ll go and give her stupid package thing to this mole man but not because she asked me to! I’ll do it so I can get home to my box of toys. Not only that! I decided fiercely. When I get home to my toys, I won’t even fantasize about her more than once or twice! That’ll teach her! I chuckled, shaking my head. What the hell was wrong with me?
“Fuck me,” I muttered, staring into the darkness. The path split at this point, branching off in three separate directions, each looking identical to the other. I sighed and opened the map Carrisyn had given me. It looked as if the proper path was the one on the right, but she’d not marked the entrance, so I had no idea which side of the map was up, down, left, or right. I turned the map and growled in frustration. Where the hell was I?
An idea sprang up in my head as if given by divine providence. I would let my innate Elven senses guide me. Surely that was a thing which existed. I seemed to recall reading about that sort of thing in a manga once and it seemed to make too much sense to ignore the possibility. Elves had been around for hundreds of thousands of years. They were long-lived so they must have developed heightened ability.
I thought for a second, trying to decide how that sort of thing should work before closing my eyes and lowering my head. I inhaled deeply, allowing my senses to reach out. The cool stone around me, the damp, moss-scented air, the drip of water all surrounded me. Enveloping me. For a second, I thought I heard a dull, distant scrape like something scraping on stone but heard nothing more, so I focused on honing my razor-sharp Elven senses.
Everything around me appeared, crystal clear like a high definition 8K television resolution image of the cave around me. I only had to find my center and let my feelings flow like water. I was one with the universe. I could easily take down a planet-sized space station at this juncture. Confidently I allowed my instincts to lead me, my senses reaching into the darkness like a light guiding me in the direction I needed to go. Confidently I strode forward.
“Ow! Fuck!” I yelped, slamming face-first into the stone. I staggered backward a step and rubbed my nose gingerly. Well, I thought, that was stupid. It was weird, though. I really did almost feel something. Like I could see the world around me. I mean, I still slammed my face into a wall, but maybe I’d taken my first step on the way to becoming an Elven Seer or something! I opened my eyes and my breath caught in my throat.
Lining the walls on either side of the passage I’d chosen with my eyes closed, stone statues stood at silent attention. Some were humanoid, clad in carved armor and wearing helmets and carrying various weapons. Some were monstrous and threatening, creatures I couldn’t identify with twisted features and fearsome claws and teeth. I stepped back a pace and froze again as the stone eyes of the statues seemed to turn toward me. No, I decided, these were just like cave gargoyles or something, like at Notre Dame but underground. I stepped to the side and, sure enough, their eyes followed me. Oh, I thought. What the fuck is this shit?
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I imagined this was some of those conscripts the countess had been warning me about, but they were far creepier than I’d imagined. Not to mention there were far more. Staring down as far as I could see with my enhanced vision and the flickering torchlight intermittently spaced along the walls there were at least fifty of the things. While their facial expressions didn’t change, they most assuredly did not look pleased to see me. Or they were just that ugly.
Was this the right way, though? The map was useless, or I was at reading it, but it seemed to me that angry statues would be guarding something pretty important. Maybe even some musty elven king. Taking a deep breath and preparing to dodge or run at the first sign of doom lasers or whatever else these constructs were supposed to do to protect the Elves in the warrens I moved forward.
Contrary to what I’d been told, however, the line of constructs, while seeming to pay attention to my movement through the tunnel, showed no signs of hostility. No giant robot missile attacks or magic beams of mutilation met me as I walked between them. If anything, the constructs seemed more intrigued by my presence than ready to kill me. It was, of course, impossible to tell given their facial expressions never changed and it was most likely some fantasy my paranoia had bred in my brain, but they seemed to have anticipated my coming and were now curious as to what my presence meant.
As I walked, I noticed a light, distant at first, but gradually growing steadier and brighter in the distance. It wasn’t torch light, even I could tell, and I was certainly no expert in the difference. As I grew closer and the light filled the end of the tunnel, I could tell it was sunlight, but filtered through heavy clouds and, possibly, trees. I stepped out of the dark hole I’d been traveling through and found myself in a wooded area so large I couldn’t see the other end. Trees crouched close to the entrance, but a path had been built of stone. Leading toward what I assumed was the center of the clearing. Sheer cliff walls stretched away both north and south from the tunnel entrance, the tops shrouded in mist.
It was, I decided, a natural oasis in the heart of a mountain. Nothing at all like the holes in the ground I’d been led to believe the warrens were. I couldn’t see how large the area was and I was awful at judging these sorts of things, but I could very easily imagine hundreds of Elves being able to live here quite comfortably and never having to go into the tunnels. In fact, two of the Elves presumably living in the area were standing directly in front of me on either side of the path leading away from the tunnel with rather nasty looking bows aimed directly at me.
“Hi!” I greeted, raising my hand and trying to keep a friendly smile on my face. “My name’s –“
“We know who and what you are, Old Blood,” one of the Elves, a rather cute girl with short dark hair interrupted. “We also know why you’re here.”
“Ah,” my smile faded, and an awkward silence descended. It had become every awkward dinner I’d ever had with my homophobic uncle and whichever wife he had found that week and I shuffled my feet uncomfortably. Of course, I reasoned, Uncle Han-gyeol and aunt whomever it was, had never pointed very dangerous looking weapons at me. “Soooo…”
“Come with us, Old Blood, the Ri will see you,” The male elf muttered, obviously displeased this Ri had agreed to see me.
“My name’s Ashvallen,” I scowled at him, well aware this was neither the time nor the place to be on a first name basis with these people but irritated by this ‘Old Blood’ they kept calling me.
“Who cares?” The cute elf shrugged, gesturing toward the path with the tip of the bow, arrow still pointed in my direction. “It won’t matter soon anyway.” Well, I sighed, nothing ominous about that.
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