The Rescue

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Dark elf Marek races to save his son from the wizard clan's fowl experiments.

This was a flash fiction I wrote as background for a character I played in a dice based game. (the son, not Marek)

Submitted: December 20, 2014

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Submitted: December 20, 2014



“Illianna… He’s our son!” Marek screamed. The grey skinned elf threw the golden goblet across the room. The collision spilled the dark red wine, splashing against the ancient tapestry. The red stains dripped like blood over the depicted battle.

Marek paced, his hard leather boots muffled by the elegant carpet that lay in Illiana’s room, located at the top of their clan’s tower. With various empty rooms in between, they hid in a veil of privacy, but walls tend to have ears no matter how much effort you put into preventing it.

“He’s touched by our goddess. He’s blighted by the wilds. He’s should have been put down. Thrown into the river.” Illiana's stone face faltered, but Marek saw.  Our union was never meant to be!” Illiana said. Her pink eyes covered with strands of spider silk thin white hair. “Now that he’s been discovered by the wizards, they have him in their deepest cell and are poking and prodding him to their twisted amusement. No one knows the source of the boy’s power! What can I say? Shall I destroy the house of Di’marr? The head priestess and matriarch of our world has lain with the Captain of her guards and bore child whose wild talent killed fifty of our people.”

Illianna stood up from the cushioned chair and grasp Marek’s hands and held them to her chest. She felt so tiny and frail. Marek wished to protect her till the end of time. “You, you with no family, no house. You who have worked to become my hand, my protector… would throw that away to claim a child who will destroy everything?”

“He’s our son.” Marek whispered. He tried to teach her so much. their ways must change. His hope for their future grew when she dropped the silver dagger poised over the sleeping infant.

Marek had stolen the child away, and placed it with Darvok, his brother. His wife had a child that night as well. After paying him for his silence, he murdered his brother and wife, and set fire to their home. He knew they would hold the child over him and Illianna should the need arise.

Marek saved the children from the fire, claimed them as nephews, and gave them stations in the house of Di’marr and watched them grow into fine young men, until his son’s episode. The district had been torn asunder. Dark elves lain twisted and contorted, their faces trapped a silent scream. Buildings destroyed, livestock turned inside out, no magic known could create this devastation.

His son passed out from the ordeal and his nephew was gone. His own family alerted the wizards. Now they must sit and decide what to do. If they intervene, their entire world will collapse and he feared it would cause a civil war with the already unstable house of cards the clans have formed.

He looked down at Illiana; as the young girl he protected, the headstrong young woman she grew into, and the confident priestess he had fallen in love with. Try as she might to hide her thoughts, he could read every thought. Her stone face shown slight cracks and trembles.

“If you go… I’ll never see you again.” Illiana whispered. Her small hands trembled inside his. Marek nodded “But… he’s our son”

Marek embraced the head priestess. He wanted to carry her warmth and love with him. The silence spoke her order. He had leapt from the window, leaving the world and the only love he had ever known behind.

Activating a charm he had sewn into his hunting gloves, his fall slowed and he landed with a cat’s grace. He walked with purpose down the familiar streets of the underground city. Giant stalactites and stone pillars housed the homes of the dark elves.. His gaze fixed on one stone column that kept the entire cave from collapsing in on itself… the wizard’s tower.

Marek arrived at the entrance walked in. The guards nodded to him and stood at attention as he entered the front gates. An unrecognized wizard greeted him.

“Oh… captain! What can I assist you with today?” The wizard sniveled, he didn’t hide his animosity towards the visit.

“I came to see the boy.” Marek ordered.

“I see… but I’m afraid your authority is quite limited here, lapdog. The child is the key to bring us closer to the Goddess. Since she bestows her powers only to women, We’re forced to toil with such trivial skills just so we can keep up!” spat the wizard. “You will not see him!”

Marek exploded in a flurry of movements. Three paralyzing darts landed in the necks of the guards he just greeted, and they slumped to the floor. Marek grabbed the wizard by his arm and twisted it behind him, and launched two more daggers with his free hand. The projectiles hit their mark and buried themselves into the two adjacent tapestries, a red stain grew at the point of impact.

“You’ll pay for this! I swear you will! Your house will fall! We will burn it all down!” screamed the wizard.

“I have no house, there’s nothing left to burn” Marek whispered into the wizard’s ear. Terror and pain filled his eyes as Marek broke one of the wizard’s fingers. “Now you can’t cast anything on me. If you mumble, I will cut your your tongue. Now, take me to the boy.”

The wizard led Marek down various corridors and passages. Marek considered breaking another finger to hurry up the trek when the hall they walked down opened up to a large chamber. Tied to an altar Marek spied a frail youth, naked and covered in cuts and welts in the shape of sigils. The smelt of magic and death filled his nostrils.. Marek saw blood stained trails that lead to piles of bodies in the corner. The wizard cackled at the sight.

“That boy is going to destroy us all… What is he to you?”

“He’s my son.” Marek said, and snapped the wizard’s neck.


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