7. Aldric

7

ALDRIC

S tanding in the courtyard, I survey the faces of my kin, and anger burns in my veins. These are the warriors of legend, the ones who should be ready to fight for our survival. Yet here they stand, apathetic and indifferent. The Council's decree was clear; the dark elves are coming, and we must be prepared. But they act as if this is another trivial matter to be dismissed.

My fists clench, nails biting into my palms. I lock eyes with Raziel, hoping to find some spark of determination in him. He's watching me intently, his expression unreadable. Almost like he's sizing me up.

"Listen up!" My voice echoes off the stone walls of the courtyard. "The dark elves have attacked one of our own bases. They're not going to stop until every last one of us is crushed beneath them if they can help it."

Silence follows my words. I scan their faces, looking for any sign of resolve. Nothing.

"This isn't just about survival; it's about honor!" My gaze sweeps across the crowd again, seeking a reaction, any reaction.

Raziel steps forward slightly, his wings shifting but he says nothing. His silence stings more than any blade.

"We need warriors!" I shout. "We need to protect our people!"

A few Vrakken exchange glances but then turn away. One by one, they begin to leave the courtyard, their apathy hanging in the air like a thick fog.

I step toward Raziel, frustration boiling over. "Why won't they fight?"

He meets my gaze finally, his eyes dark and reflective like deep pools. "Because they don't think it won't affect them," he says simply.

"They took out a base!"

Raziel's lips twitch into a bitter smile. "But not this one." He shakes his head before clapping me on the shoulder. "It was hard for me to get the vrakken to care, too." He gestures around us. "But I got there. Look at us. Half the coven is above ground now. We will get there."

The weight of his words presses down on me, but it doesn't extinguish my anger. If anything, it fuels it further.

"We don't have time," I growl. "It's the one thing we can't afford."

"They need a reason," Raziel counters softly.

"A reason?" I repeat, incredulous. "Isn't survival reason enough?"

He shakes his head slowly. "They need more. We've survived before and it drove most of us insane or miserable." He sighs. "They don't want to go back to it. So they'll avoid repeating the war as much as they can — until they are forced not to."

"But we can't wait?—"

Raziel squeezes my shoulder. "I'm not saying wait. We will get there." And then he turns on his heel, walking to the blonde woman that I think must be his mate — I'd heard the famed Elder was mated to a little human — and tugs her along with him.

I turn back to the dispersing crowd and feel an overwhelming sense of futility wash over me. If we can't even rally ourselves to fight, how can we hope to stand against the dark elves?

I leave the courtyard, each step heavy with frustration. The apathy of the other vrakken weighs on me, a constant reminder of our dire situation. I find a quiet corner of the base, away from the disinterested eyes and indifferent faces. My body aches from the recent battles, but my mind is too restless for rest.

Leaning against a cool stone wall, I close my eyes, trying to block out the overwhelming sense of futility. I know I need to find a room and get settled, but right now, all I want is a moment of peace. Just one moment to gather my thoughts.

"Hey," a voice cuts through my solitude.

I open my eyes to see the beautiful human from before — Elowen, a gorgeous name that suits her perfectly — standing before me, her fiery red hair like a beacon in the dim light. Her forest green eyes are intense, filled with determination.

"I want to fight," she declares, her voice steady and unwavering.

I shake my head, feeling the weight of her words press down on me. "No."

Her eyes narrow. "Why not?"

"Because it's too dangerous," I reply, barely able to keep the frustration out of my voice. "I meant it. You should learn self defense. But you can't stand against the dark elves."

"Who are you to decide that?" she challenges, stepping closer.

"I'm a warrior," I snap back. "I've seen what they're capable of."

"And so have I!" Her voice rises, echoing off the stone walls. "They took everything from me. My family...my home." She takes another step forward, her face inches from mine. "I won't stand by and do nothing."

For a moment, I'm taken aback by her — her fiery spirit that matches her hair, the fierce determination in her eyes. There's an urge inside me to reach out, to taste that fire for myself. Fuck, just one bite. Though, I don't know if I could stop…

I slam that thought into the back of my mind and I shove it away, hard.

"This isn't about revenge," I say coldly. "It's about survival."

"And fighting is how we survive!" she retorts.

I shake my head again. "No." My tone is final.

Her face twists in anger and disappointment, but she doesn't back down. Instead, she glares at me with those piercing green eyes before turning on her heel and storming off.

As she leaves, I can't help but feel a pang of regret. Not just because I've denied her the chance to fight but because I've let my own frustrations cloud my judgment.

I lean back against the wall, closing my eyes once more. The base is quiet around me, but inside, I'm anything but calm.

The weight of frustration clings to me as I push through the underground tunnels, searching for solace. I decide to hunt, needing to feed and clear my mind. The familiar darkness wraps around me, a comforting shroud as I move silently through the rocky passages.

It doesn't take long to find my prey. A dripir snuffles through the dirt, oblivious to my presence. I strike quickly, sinking my fangs into its neck and drinking deeply. The animal's blood is a poor substitute for human blood, but it's enough to dull the gnawing hunger inside me.

With my thirst sated, I return to the base. The need to speak with Raziel burns within me, so I seek out a scout I know from my years in the tunnels.

"Where's Raziel?" I ask him, my voice low but urgent.

The scout nods toward the back of the base. "He's in the library." He tells me how to navigate back there and I clap him on the back in thanks.

I make my way there, finding Raziel amidst shelves of ancient tomes and scrolls. He's poring over a thick volume, his brow furrowed in concentration. When he notices me, he closes the book and looks up.

"Aldric," he greets me with a nod. "What brings you here?"

"We need to talk," I say bluntly.

Raziel gestures for me to sit, but I remain standing, too restless to settle.

"We need new training rotations," Raziel begins without preamble. "Everyone needs to be prepared, and we can't rely on old routines."

I scoff. "No one will even show up."

Raziel's gaze is steady, unyielding. "Patience," he advises. "We must see potential allies everywhere, even among humans."

"Humans?" I nearly laugh at the absurdity. "They are fragile."

"And yet they survive," Raziel counters calmly. "Selene is proof of that."

I grit my teeth, struggling with my frustration. "You expect them to fight like us? They can't."

"They don't have to fight like us," Raziel says evenly. "They need to fight alongside us."

His words linger in the air between us, a challenge and a promise all at once.

"I'll consider it," I finally say.

"Good," Raziel replies, his eyes piercing through me as if searching for something deeper.

The thought of relying on humans, those fragile creatures, feels like a desperate grasp at straws. Yet, some have proven herself valuable.

The thought pushes my mind to Elowen—fierce, determined, and so very human.

Her image lingers in my mind, her fiery hair and intense green eyes challenging me even now. She's different from the others. There's a fire in her that I can't ignore, but it makes me uneasy. I don't want her thrown into the fray, but why? Why does the thought of her in danger twist my insides?

Raziel watches me silently, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the storm raging inside me.

"We can set up new rotations tonight," I mutter again, knowing that most vrakken come out at night despite the sun glamour protecting the base. "I can take care of the training schedule. I'll even include a section for the humans."

"Good," Raziel says, standing up from his chair. "Now let me show you around the base. Get you settled into a room."

I nod, following him out of the library. As we walk through the winding tunnels, I can't help but notice the subtle changes since I was last here. The walls seem to pulse with a faint magical energy, veins of raw magic glittering in the stone.

"We've made some improvements," Raziel comments as if reading my thoughts. "The wildsponts are more active here than ever."

I grunt in acknowledgment, my mind still preoccupied with thoughts of Elowen and our uncertain future.

Raziel leads me through various chambers—the armory stocked with weapons and armor, training rooms where a few dedicated vrakken hone their skills despite the apathy of others, and finally to a quiet corridor lined with individual rooms.

"This will be yours," Raziel says, opening a door to a small but comfortable room. "It's not much, but it's private."

I step inside, taking in the simplicity of the space—a bed, a table, and a single chair. It feels like a world away from the chaos above ground.

"Thank you," I say, turning to face Raziel.

He nods once before placing a hand on my shoulder. "We'll get through this, Aldric. One way or another."

I watch as he leaves me alone with my thoughts. The weight of responsibility presses down on me once more. But now, mingled with that weight is something else—something unexpected.

Elowen's face flashes in my mind again. Maybe she isn't as fragile as I first thought. Maybe there's more strength in humans than I've given them credit for.

As I sit down on the edge of the bed, I resolve to keep an open mind about our potential allies. Even if it goes against every instinct I have as a warrior.