Fyrehart

Eight creatures fight for the power to control Newearth.

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11. Chapter Eleven

Note: It's only a little chapter.

 

 Tornei made her way to the edge of the forest. It was probably nothing. Dalya being extreme again. As Tornei was walking, Bowen the elf came around the corner. Tornei took the opportunity to stop him. 'My daughter said you were talking to someone.'

Bowen looked at her. 'Yes. They were riders. Asking where King Conwyn was, but since you're here, I don't see any harm in you going to collect the message.' the elf left then.

Not sure whether or not to believe the elf, Tornei carried on walking to the forest.

Maybe he's right. Maybe it was just a rider that happened to have a white horse.

Tornei wished she had brought her bow with her. She always felt safer with her bow.

She entered the forest. 'Hello...?' she asked, hesitantly. Suddenly she felt a pain shoot through her gut. She fell onto her knees and looked down to see a short sword sticking out of her, blood pouring everywhere. She then felt someone yank her head back by her hair.

'Best way to wound a wolf is to stab them in their gut. They die slowly that way.' With a pit of doubt, Tornei recognised that the voice belonged to Allyn, the elf-prince. He had gone through with his word.

The bastard. she thought, as pain rippled through her.

As he- and she was guessing Dolan- picked her up and threw her onto the wagon- with the sword still in her- she really wished she'd brought her bow with her. But most of all, she wished Con would jump out of a bush- in his wolf form- and mauled these elves to death, but in her heart, she knew that was never to happen.

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