7. Mazituz

SEVEN

Istep back from the dark elf's body, his blood oozing out of him and onto the ground. I sneer at the disgusting, vile creature.

Such a waste of space on this planet. A disgrace to every other being. A nuisance. I await the day when we are all free of them. When they inevitably engage themselves in a war with a species that they cannot win against.

A sound from my side distracts me from my moment of hatred, and I turn to see the girl staring at the two elves on the ground. Her short blonde hair frames her small, pale face in a way that compliments her greatly. I cannot deny her beauty, even if she is very clearly not in a good physical state right now.

She looks so fragile, so delicate. More so than the humans I usually come across. Her body trembles, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. Her slight hands clutch at the ground as if to anchor herself to something, anything.

I feel a curiosity toward her like I must know more, which is new to me. I've never been curious about a human before. Mostly I just avoid them. In fact, I avoid most beings. So why is walking away the last thing I want to do?

I take a step closer, my shadow looming over her. But as I do, she recoils. I notice some sort of metal trapping her hands, wrapped around her wrists. Hardening my claws, I slice through the metal, freeing her hands from the binding in my attempt to help. She does not look thankful and instead winces.

Sensing her fear, I pause for a moment, trying to think logically. She has probably never come across one of my kind before, and I imagine she is quite terrified, especially after watching me kill that elf. But she did not want to go with the elf, that much I know for sure. She was trying to escape, and I do not blame her. Who knows what horrors this girl has experienced?

Without moving, I watch her wide, expressive eyes as they survey me and the area around us, but mostly me, although she never actually makes eye contact. The glow from my stones reflects in her eyes, causing them to glimmer. The soft gray color draws me in in such a way that I do not understand, and I can't just stand here like this any longer.

I slowly, tentatively, extend a tentacle toward her, pausing before it can fully reach her. My own hesitance surprises me as this is not the way of my kind. Her eyes look away from me as my tentacle hovers in front of her, and I'm not sure what to make of this act.

Still, I wait, for a reason unbeknownst to me.

Finally, her gaze finds mine again, but this time she doesn't look away. This time, our eyes truly meet, and I see her. I see how scared she is. I see how strong she is despite that. How tired she is. And I realize I must do something about it.

Despite being two beings from different worlds, as we stare each other down, it's like a silent communication transpires, a fleeting connection in the vast loneliness surrounding us.

I will not leave her here to be taken by another elf. She will come with me, and she will be mine. I see no other way, no other option but this. And it feels right. But even so, I must get answers from her.

I drop my tentacle before clearing my throat and opening my mouth to speak.

"How did you get here?" I ask.

She startles, her eyes widening as she looks around us once more as if searching for a way to flee. What she doesn't see yet, what she doesn't understand, is that I'm not going to let that happen. She isn't going anywhere. Not without me.

I wait for an answer that doesn't come, but I refuse to give up.

"What is your name?"

She glances at me again, a panicked look entering her eyes. After I just killed that elf to save her, she is scared of me? I shake my head, trying to see this situation from her point of view.

"I am not going to hurt you," I state.

She doesn't look convinced, but she finally opens her mouth to speak before closing it again. My heart sinks. This is going nowhere. But before I can talk again, her soft voice fills the air, bouncing off the walls like music.

"You can talk?"

This is not what I expected her to say. Does she really know that little about my kind? Am I really that foreign to her? I can't help but find it slightly amusing.

"Of course. Now will you tell me your name?" A long pause follows.

"Camille," she finally says, still hesitant.

"Camille," I repeat, enjoying the way the name feels rolling off of my tongue. "How did you get here?"

She looks away again, refusing to answer.

"Why were you with that dark elf?" I try. "Why did he hurt you?"

She opens and closes her mouth again, and I begin to feel frustrated. This situation is completely foreign to me, and I have no idea what to do next. I don't want to push her too hard when she is obviously distressed, but I also still need answers.

"What are you?" she asks me, confirming my earlier thoughts.

"I'm a Narovu," I tell her, not giving her any more than that. If she wants to know more, she will have to ask.

"What is that?" she asks.

"Why am I to answer your questions when you haven't answered mine?"

"What's your name?" she asks, ignoring me. "I told you mine."

"You may call me Mazituz."

She looks down at her hands, fiddling with her fingers. She's nervous.

"Why are you so scared?"

Nothing. I huff a big sigh, my frustration slowly increasing. How am I supposed to take care of her if she refuses to speak to me?

"Why did you kill those elves?" she whispers.

"Were they not hurting you?"

"Yes, but… I don't even know you. Why would you help me?"

"I don't know," I speak truthfully. "Would you rather I have left you with them when you so clearly didn't want to go wherever they were trying to take you?"

"I –" she starts, but stops herself, looking away and pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth. I look away from this movement, eyes flaring.

"Where were they taking you?" I ask.

"I don't know."

"You're lying," I state. I'm not sure how, but I can just tell.

She looks back up at me, and her eyes appear to be searching mine. I try to look as least threatening as possible, but there really isn't much I can do but stand here.

"They were selling me," she says, unflinching.

"To whom?"

"Another elf."

I grunt, anger rising within me. I knew of the elves doing things like this, but to actually come across a victim of this crime? It makes me want to hunt the rest of these tunnels and tear them all apart limb by limb.

I glance at the dead elves, wishing I had made their death just a little more cruel. Wishing I had made them suffer more.

I step closer to her, wanting to know more.

"No!" she shouts, scrambling across the floor to get away from me. "Don't come any closer! I'll scream," she warns.

"And what, alert the rest of the elves to your location? You think they aren't searching for you at this very moment? You think they won't come running and take you back?"

This silences her, and a stray tear escapes one of her eyes, sliding down her cheek slowly. I resist the urge to reach down and wipe it away, and I'm once again struck by my own thoughts. These are not things I normally feel or think.

I must try a new approach since my current one is clearly not working.

"If you want, I can take you back to them," I offer, knowing full well that is the last thing she wants.

"Please don't," she whispers, more tears filling her eyes.

"I won't," I assure her. "They won't touch you again."

This is not how I expected this interaction to go when I first responded to her shrieks. I certainly didn't expect to be sticking around after killing the elves. But there's no going back now.

"Leave me alone," she chokes out over the tears that are now free-flowing down her face.

"Is that really what you want?"

I pretend like she has a choice here when she really doesn't. There is no way I'm going to let her out of my sight.

She doesn't answer, instead wiping her tears and trying to stand. She fails on her first try, falling after only making it halfway. I lend her a tentacle, but she recoils again.

"No!" she shouts.

I retract it, watching her struggle. The tension becomes palpable as I stand there, letting her clutch the wall in an effort to use it as support so she can stand. To my surprise, it works, and she stands on shaky legs in front of me.

But it doesn't last long, and she falls again, taking deep breaths as she grips the floor. It's obvious that she's too injured to stand on her own.

"Let me help you."

"No," she spits out almost immediately.

The defiance in her voice is enough to surprise me, and it saddens me that she has clearly never known kindness. Perhaps she has been tricked in a similar situation before. Perhaps someone else was not as honest as me, with worse intentions, and she fell for it. It would explain her utter distrust in me.

This will be no easy feat.