Chapter 3

Standing between Grace and Erislethe, Lacryma watched as the winged woman leaned over the stone ledge under the window overlooking the Ashvale valley and surveyed the sweeping landscape below with an expression she couldn’t quite place - not quite anger, not quite sadness. Erislethe watched the horsemen ride towards them with her naked eye, when even with the aid of Grace’s binoculars, it had taken her a moment for Lacryma to grasp the identity of the riders.

She had seen those green cloaks on several occasions before, and each time had been like something out of a nightmare.

She only knew them by the name that her father had called them once before: the Fluchjaeger. He had said that they were non-elven men from provinces surrounding the Acacian borders who had been taken from their homes as children, either purchased from their families or by force, and trained to hunt down and exterminate the enemies of the Losalfr. They were chosen because they did not see their prey as human, they would not hesitate to strike them down and would never stop until their job was done.      

“I have nothing left to offer but I will give you anything,” Lacryma said in a pleading voice, and Erislethe’s gaze shifted to her. “Please, help us. If you are really Drajken, you could break those men as though they were twigs.”

There was a heavy silence before Erislethe turned her eyes back to the horizon and replied. “Do you speak for all of your people?”

Lacryma began to answer but her voice caught in her throat and her chin fell. She knew there was no way she could tell her the truth, even if she would learn it for herself if she came to their aid.

“The Fluchjaeger have been hunting us ever since I can remember,” Lacryma said, looking down at her hands. “We thought, maybe in this valley we could hide. We heard that the Losalfr dared not come here and risk war with the Empire. We’ve… I’ve been running my entire life.”

“And if your pursuers were vanquished,” Erislethe said. “What then? Would you continue running?”

Lacryma once again opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t summon any words.

“Do you really think that the Losalfr would stop there?” The woman continued, and with a single crooked finger under Lacryma’s chin she lifted the girl’s head to meet her fiery gaze. “Would you be content to keep things as they are? Will you simply continue running until there is nowhere left to run?”

Lacryma felt the heat rise to her cheeks; Erislethe’s face was slowly growing closer to hers until she could feel the warmth of her breath.

“I, I can only speak for myself...” Lacryma finally spoke, her voice quivering slightly. “But I’ve tired of running.”

Lacryma felt a hand on her shoulder and looked back to see Grace looking between her and Erislethe with a look of concern in her eyes. Feeling guilty that she had forgotten the one who had accompanied her, she smiled, trying to let her know that everything was alright. At first she had thought maybe she had been in league with the Fluchjaeger, but as far as she knew the Losalfr only chose men to form their ranks. Besides that, when she had looked into Grace’s eyes, she had seen kindness, and no sign that she had ever before seen the sort of horrors as she.

And when Erislethe had told them who she was, and that this was her realm Lacryma knew looking into the red eyes that she was telling the truth. She could tell that there was something else that she hiding from them but that much she was certain of. She was also certain that Erislethe was one of the Drajken she had heard of in stories, and if the wings on her back and the horns on her head were not proof enough, the power she could see burning behind her eyes was.

“You said your name was Lacryma…? You said that you would give me anything, did you?” The corners of Erislethe’s mouth turned upward into a smile. “I will protect your people with all of my power but the path I am about to take will surely make me an enemy of many, if I strike down yours would you stand at my side?”

“Stand at your side?”

“Yes.” Erislethe said, placing a hand on the side of Lacryma’s face. “I need you to stay with me.”   

In response to this unexpected declaration, Lacryma could only stand in wide-eyed silence as she repeated those words she had never heard before even once in her life.

“You… need me?”

Grace stood with with her arms crossed as she watched the exchange between Lacryma and Erislethe, feeling uncomfortably like an outsider eavesdropping on a conversation, even though she couldn’t understand a single word that was said. On top of this, she couldn’t decide which made her feel the most uneasy, how close Erislethe’s face was getting to Lacryma’s or how little Lacryma seemed to mind the woman’s touch.

At last, Erislethe stopped speaking the elven language, placed both her hands on Lacryma’s shoulders, and nodded.

Feeling restless, Grace cleared her throat. “Is… ah, everything alright over there?”

“Indeed,” Erislethe said, turning her attention to Grace. “The lady Lacryma and myself hath reached an accord. Her enemies art now mine enemies. Time is of the essence, those blackguards shalt cross paths with the Dokalfr, who has’t little in the way to defend themselves. That blade thee wear at thy side, is it not mere decoration?”      

“No,” Grace answered, trying not to lose her composure under the intense scrutiny of Erislethe’s crimson gaze.

“And doth thou know how to use it?”

“I…” Grace faltered, uncertain of just how much should she tell this woman about herself. She still knew next to nothing about Erislethe herself apart from the fact that she had claimed sovereignty over this land. “I’ve trained with it, yes.”

“Under normal circumstances I wouldst not ask such a thing, but I hath found myself at the moment with a dearth of allies. I knoweth this is not thy battle, but wouldst that thou aid me in this I shalt find some way to reward thee, so I asketh of thee to form a temporary compact.”

Grace felt her head spin. Too many things were happening at once, she understood that if they did not act now innocent people would probably die, but what could the three of them do alone? What would it mean to her if she agreed to Erisleth’s terms? What did she mean by a compact? Grace’s gaze drifted from Erislethe’s burning eyes to Lacryma’s, fearful, anxious, seeming to beg her for help. With that Grace swallowed back her reservations and looked at Erislethe.

“I’ll help you.”

“Very well, then.” She put one arm around Lacryma’s waist and then extended the other to Grace. “Giveth me thy hand, speaketh thy name, and declare thy will.”

Grace reached out, hesitated for a moment then placed her hand onto Erislethe’s open palm. “I am Grace Lyonwright, if it’s something within my power I will help you… help Lacryma.” she then closed her eyes, bracing for whatever manner of sorcery came next. A few moments passed and she cracked one eye open.

“What now?”

With a fierce grin, Erislethe pulled Grace close close to her side and spread her wings.

“Speaketh not, lest thee bite thine own tongue.”

“Wha-?”

Then, climbing up onto the window ledge, Erislethe jumped off and took flight into the blue.