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Krolaun and I were sitting alone when both our lives at the Inn changed forever. I rose, going outside for a moment, needing to go for a walk. The elf professed weariness, so I smiled, letting him remain behind.Once I was out-of-sight of the Inn, I dropped my pretended joviality. I prowled the night, my keen nose catching wind of a long-hated enemy. It was faint, but unmistakable.
I ranged through the night-darkened forest, trying to find that nightmare from my past. My cat-like green eyes scrutinized the shadows, searching frantically. Finally, I was forced to give up. I trudged back to the Inn, exiting the fringe of the forest.
Brutally impaled on a stake before the inn, was the head of Niam, sub-commander of Sharidia. I gasped, gaping at the grotesque sight. From the shadows, Krolaun emerged, his eyes glowing a strange blue. As he looked at me, his eyes narrowed--but he wasn't looking at me, he was looking over my shoulder.
"Niam. . ." a familiar voice reverberated behind me, "Who did this?"
Krolaun threw up a hand, and the next thing I knew, I was standing in a room of stone. Behind me were shelves of books, a fire, and refreshments. I pounded on the door in frustration. How dare he send me away!? I raked my claws angrily on the thick oak door.
"Krolaun!"
* * * I was seemingly trapped in that room forever. I paced and ranted angrily at the granite walls. Alternately, I cursed and cried. I couldn't bear the thought of what Sharidia would do while I was trapped here.
I had pounded on the door of the room until my hands were swollen and aching. My throat stung from all the shouting I had done. Every muscle in me ached from the frenzied tension I had worked myself into. I pounded on the door one last time, "Let me out. . ."
The next thing I knew, the cool night air brushed against my skin, right before the blast of heat. I looked over my right shoulder. . .
The inn was in flames.
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© 1999 E. Angeli Mansfield
