A Choice

Two guards lay unconscious at the foot of a winding stair case as a hooded figure rushed up them. The figure moved light footedly up, taking two steps at a time. She was in a rush. She had to beat the king outside, lest she lose her chance. As she climbed higher memories of the most foolish and dangerous things she had done began to cross her mind...

"I am deeply sorry for your loss," He said apologetically as he walked toward her. She wore a long dark green cloak to cover her gear. She thanked him for his sympathy and told him her story. She embodied all that he hated and aspired to be, a perfect killer. Here she was daring to stand alone and lie to him…

That had been a very sickening time for her. She hated sympathy, it made one weak. She had stood before what she believed to be the embodiment of evil and lie dead face to him. That had be a most foolish thing she had done. That was not the only thing she had done…

"That won't work!" called the voice of the future king. She was tired and injured, but she had to keep fighting. She took up her blade and began to fight. She had to make sure that the prince lived or all she had worked for would be lost. With all her might she thrust it into the heart of the basilisk. She felt a sudden surge of pain in her side where the beast had stuck her. She summoned what strength she had left and fled. Only just escaped the fires of kings hate, but now she was at the mercy of basilisk's bane…

It had been foolish on her part. To face down a basilisk alone was suicide, yet here she was. She had to do it or the next king of Camelot would not be alive. It was said in the legends of her people that the man who held the blade of the courageous would unite the lands of Emberstone and bring forth the golden age. It he was the man of the legend she could not allow him to die if she could help it. There was no way he could have killed the beast without magic. She placed her hand on her side. The touch triggered a memory; pain came flooding back to her…

She braced herself on the ruff stone of the cave. She looked down at her bandaged side again. The cloth was become the grotesque black color of her blood. She was sweating all over. Her light dress was soaked. The salty liquid dripped from her brow to the ruff rock below her feet. She stayed like that for a few moments, before making her way end of the tunnel. The tunnel opened up into a large cavern. There was a small platform in the cave. She leaned on the wall and slid down it scared her back, but she was able to feel. Oh the joy she felt as she felt the rock scratch her back. Over time the venom had taken her senses from her one by one. First she lost the sense of smell, then went touch. At dinner one night, she noticed she could taste nothing. Her hearing was staring to go. The worst was that she realized she was losing her emotions. She noted that she was not feeling happiness or joy, just hate and sorrow. "Only a matter of time" she thought taking a breather. She unwrapped her side and looked at it. The gash bled a black slug like substance. Her blood had been silver, but the venom had turned it into tar. Now here she was, a perfect kill, slowly becoming numb, waiting for the end…

She shuttered at memory of all that pain. She figured that she was the only living creature to have ever survived a basilisk's venom. She was nearing the top of the stairs she focused on what she was doing. She opened the door and looked around. "Good no guards," She sighed as she stepped out onto the castle barbican. She knelt behind a battlement and readied herself. She removed her cloak reviling a quiver of arrows. Each arrow was dipped in basilisk venom so as to kill whether is hit its mark or not, it was highly unlikely she'd miss. She heard a knight shouting at someone. She looked to the side of the battlement to see who was getting yelled at. It was the physician, the man that had saved her life. The first time they had formally exchanged words to each other passed through her mind…

The sound of footsteps echoed against the stone in the great cavern. The sound had woken the warrior instinct in her. She put out her light and moved herself into a position so when the person came through the entrance she'd have the jump on them. A light walked through the tunnel onto the entrance. She could not see who it was; just that is was a man. She made her move. She came up behind him and held her knife to his throat, and whispered her threat to cut his throat if he screamed. She heard him muter something that was old, words that were of the old language. She knew what was coming next, she ducked. He turned and let loose a ball of light from his hands at her. He missed. She took a battle stance ready for his next attack. He was about to unleash more of his magic when recognition washed across his face. To her he was the court physician.

"Who are you?" He thought it over for a moment then asked, "What are you?"

"Have you no manners," she mocked, "how rude of thing to ask of a woman."

"You are not a woman are you?" He was still ready to strike at a moment's notice.

"I am a woman, but not of you race-," She began but the pain in her side now took priority. She knelt to the ground gripped in pain.

"What's the matter?" He asked as he dropped his guard. But all she could do was cry out in pain. Something snapped in her head. Her eyes flashed from blue to purple to blood red. Her canine teeth became fang like. She looked at him with a blood lust. She took up her blade and rushed him…

She shuttered at the 'membrance of all that rage and hate. She returned to her gear. She pulled out the arrow that would hopefully be the king's demises and save her people. For the last seventeen years her people had been fighting an unspoken war with this king. He hunted her kind because of their powers. His quests for power and to destroy magic went far beyond his kingdom's boards. He didn't just go after her race but others as well. He hunted the fairies of Folio, the Dragons of Ardogn and all who held magic and power in their blood. But that was the past and she was here to hopefully end this conflict. With one arrow she just might be able to not only save countless lives but the life of the man who had helped her heal…

She was lying on a cot in a strange room when she woke. The room was a mess and the walls were lined with shelves. Some shelves had books on them, others were filled with jars. She tried to sit up, but found that a foolish move. Her chest was wrapped in bandages. She didn't doubt that she had a few broken ribs. They would be fully healed in a matter of hours. As she tried to stand a hand stopped her.

"Lie down you need rest," The voice was that of the man that she had attacked.

"You have no right to tell me what I need!" She shouted. She tried to stand but it hurt too much.

"Told you," He smiled. He had the most amazing eyes they were a deep blue.

"What do you want?" She hissed her teeth still fang like.

"Well I was hope that you would tell me who and what you are, and why your blood is a purple tar?" He turned to his test tube filled with her blood.

"Pa, why do you care? I doesn't matter I be dead within the month," She stood up but still winced in pain and sat down.

"I care because I'm curious and also it's not normal for someone to be able to walk around after having three of their ribs broken."

"I see no point in you knowing, I'm not even of you race," She stood.

"I'm a creature of knowledge and curiosity. It is part of my profession to learn new thing, such as why a young woman has, tar like blood, callused hands, and a mastery of magical knowledge."

"Observant are we now?" She made her way to the table he was at, "Well what do you think I am?" She gave him a look that dared him to guess wrong.

"It would not be a farfetched guess to guess that you grew up in the southern highlands, because of you ascent." She nodded. "If that is true it then it is a fair thing to guess that you a Southern Elf."

"I can see that you are clever human." She commented. "There is no harm in telling you, I guess I'll be dead with the month, and a death your retched king's fire would be more than welcome."

"Why?"

"A few weeks ago a basilisk attacked the castle," The man nodded as if to continue, "I attacked and kill the beast to save your prince. I was struck in the side before killing it. The bite is slowly killing me." He looked at her in awe. He walked over to and to see her wound, before removing the wrappings. She winced all though out it.

"Oh sorry," He looked at carefully. It was a shallow gash that had turned a nasty purple color. He rewrapped the mess in a clean bandage. "It must feel horrible."

"It doesn't matter, the pain just reminds me that I am still alive, I'll be dead soon anyway."

"What is the venom done to you?" He noticed that her eyes held little emotion. All that was reflected was pain.

"The basilisk's poison is slowly killing me. With every day that passes I slow become number to the world around me. I can no longer smell, feel, or taste the world. I am slowly losing the ability to see and hear it too. Soon before I die I will be only a soul in a dark painful prison." She turned and started to walk to the door.

"Let me help you," He pleaded.

"No one can help me," She limped thru the door and left…

It was when she told him that she was no long able to communicate with the world that for some reason he started work on an antidote. As time progressed she slowly became less and less. He kept her in the physician's quarters. When he talked to her he gave her something to focus her remaining senses on. He did make an antidote to the venom so here she was waiting to return the favor by killing his king. The prince came out first. She waited; patience was one of her strong suits. She knew that if she wanted to catch her quarry she'd have to wait. She notched her arrow and drew back her bow. The bow became a more prominent cresset moon. The arrow tip glittered as the moonlight touched it. Her mind raced back to when she and the physician she called friend were exchanging stories and secrets…

"What is this head made of?" He ran his finger across the edges. "Ouch."

"It's made of what my people call Meteor Stone. It is a pale white in the sun but at night it becomes clear and almost invisible when it's not in motion. When its shot is looks just like a shooting star." She wrapped his finger is a strip of cloth she had torn from her dress.

"What's this one made of?"He held up another arrow.

"Not so fast, it's my turn to ask you a question," She kicked him in the head as she started to climb up the tree she was sitting in. "What brought you here to Camelot?"

"Well, I came here for work and was hoped I'd find place to accept my powers," He called up the tree.

"Well you showed up in the wrong place."

"I could say the same about you."

"Oh," She was hanging down for on the branch upside down looking at his face, "how so? I'd like to think that I came to the right place, because if I wasn't here-"

"Then I would be still stuck in the castle." He grinned.

"Ah too true, too true." She said wistfully and started to climb again.

"Do think of me as a friend?"…

Looking back yes she did consider him a friend. He had healed her, made her feel happy again. Before she had became friends with him she had felt like she was trapped in a golden cage. Now she had someone to show her that she was wrong. He showed her they wonderful things that were part of Asloa. She also felt horrible deceiving him. Leaving without a good bye and making him wonder what had become of her, but it had to have been done; that's what she kept telling herself. She wanted him to have only good memories of her to hold onto. She pushed that all away, the royal guard had come into the courtyard. The king was coming soon.

A finely decorated white mare was being walked up to the stairs. The horse wore a grand and formal cloth. The horse was fit a king, not the tyrant this land called "King". The king stepped out of the door into the open. He wore the breast plate of a suit of armor and crimson cape with royal crest sown on. The crown of the kingdom sat atop his head nestled in his black hair.

"Great people of Camelot, for twenty years we have had a time of peace and prosperity. This has been achieved by my purging magic from this land. I, King Uther, now intend to help purge other lands of this great evil and expand the realm of Camelot. Tonight I will be riding out leading the armies of Camelot to cursed land of Folio to destroy the sprites that have plagued our land." A cheer went up as the king walked down the stairs to his horse.

Her anger boiled at his words. She took aim. She was going to wait for him to be in the middle of the crowed for all to sfee his death. "Say good bye, you monster," She said as she was about to let her arrow fly, but stopped. Movement of the corner of her eye caught her attention. A cloaked figure was making their way through the crowed to the prince and the physician. The figure held a knife. Now she had a choice to make. She had to choose whether to kill the man what was hunting her race and let the prince and her friend die, or save them and, let the tyrant live. Save one life or save hundreds of thousands lives. It was now or never, she made her choice.

She let the arrow loose. The arrow cut through the night sky like what it was named for. Her aim was true; the arrow met its mark. Cries and shouts could be heard. She suddenly felt a great pain in her lower abdomen. She lifted her hand and saw the silver of her blood glowing in the light. She turned to flee, but guards caught her. Orienla's sight began blur and she began to lose conciseness. She heard a cry, they sound as if they were in pain. She was able to hear was that she was to be killed on the spot. She turned to face the deep blue eyes that now looked at her with pain and a hate. "I'm sorry…Merlin," All when dark.