Emi

~ Part one ~

~ Structure, as in the world the Elf Emi lives in, is from my FanFic "Admiration of Redemption." A few years after the completion of the series. For more details of my FanFic's and Disclaimer, please visit my profile. ~

I stood there, in the middle of the clearing, feeling enthralled to enter the cave which I'd newly found. I'm the Elven equivalent of a teenager; according to my old Village to the north; settled at the start of the reign of Draumr the Hljödhr and Beorn the Edoc'sil era.

My auburn hair, cowls my face in a pixi cut, with blonde streaks, and a white jerkin clothing my chest. Leather chaps, with diamond studs at intervals of which would be hard to aim between during a fight. I had, once again dawned my chain mail, which runs past my waist.

You see, I'm an Adventurer; I attack what I wish, travel where I wish, and do whatever I wish. Newly outcasted by my Village, my home, I had that night stolen the chain mail and the sword that's strapped to my side this very moment, and had fled into the night before being shunned even more.

I had brought with me meager rations, a warm riding cloak, a few changes of clothes, some spare fabric and thread as well as a needle; for patching, a hunting bow, of course a quiver filled with arrows, and a hunting knife. Both beautifully crafted, the bow was one of the sturdiest I'd ever sung out of a tree, and I take pride from the item. Then, to get experience for a Guild entry, I had crafted the knife, my very first, which had turned out a masterful blade; as was said by the Smithy, that was.

The knife could no longer be my main defense, and the bow only came in handy only once I've sighted the enemy, and not the other way around.

I had fought over what type of weapon to steal, from my Aunts armory.

The maul? I knew I was strong enough to swing the thing, yet was I fast enough to regain my guard in time. The spear, as well as the bow, lost its helpfulness at range; and the mace just told me "this is what you use to crack armor, pick something else." And the halberd was never very trustful in my strong hands. I had decided on the sword, of amazing craftsmanship; it seemed as if it was made for me; I didn't care much for my Aunt, she could craft a new one as far as I was concerned. I can hear the Village voices calling after me even now, shouting my name, Emi, as I rode away to meet some new path.

This morning, once I'd awoke, I stretched my soar muscles; I had felt as if I had run the most in the course of my entire life the night previous. I had been pushing myself slightly, but when I imagined a Groths wings beating, I had surged forward, with just slightly more speed.

I eventually ended up at the base of an Elm tree, and exhausted, not caring, was swept into a deep slumber, snuggling into my warm cloak.

Then, when I was awake enough to notice my stomach was churning; and after searching my pack for my cooking stone, and after blasting the stone, flung strips of venison onto the stone. I'd recently tired of my Elven customs of vegetarianism and given into the hunger for meat; I'm not a forager by anyone's measures.

My heart surged once I heard the bubbling, and deciding the rest of my raw venison steaks would go bad soon, decided it best to salt the raw meat and preserve it now instead of risking a parasite. I silently praised my Mother, not my biological one, my nature Mother; the one who let my path mix with that of a human Hunter, who had taught me of the skill of meat preservation, and was kind enough to share with me some of his spices. Taking out my spices was the simplest part, it took a long time to salt meat, and it took me even more without a proper cooking range; or so I was told.

After cutting them into smaller strips, and seasoning them, and devouring the first batch of my meat, I again blasted the stone with an intense heat; and once again the process continued.

And it continued well into the day. And through all of this, I felt a tugging at my gut, which I had thought was a stomach issue; for running so far and then pumping it with protein I wasn't even used to getting from meat. Instead, it was the Cave opening, calling me, beckoning me to follow my destiny.

And here I stood, now at the least; an hour had passed since the end of my cooking, the smell of the meat still hung in the air; and a scorched smell accompanied it. I had blasted the stone once more; to clean off the smell as well as all other bacteria covering the stone, I didn't need a bear to suddenly appear to steal my food. I had noticed the Cave opening as I knelt down to fill my pack once more, in the noontime light.

I now knew what the tug at my gut was; fear. I was surprisingly scared, for running into a cave. This one felt stranger then the rest, I had heard the inhabitants in the other caverns; this one I could hear hardly anything but the sound of the wind washing against the stone walls. I knew I wanted to go in, but it just felt so strange; fear.

I had hardly felt it my entire life; of course there were the childhood horrors, but those seemed to demolish after the start of adolescence. I had felt it once, before I started my guild job; a smithy, and a darned good one at that. And once again on my first date- wait, no; that was more of hesitant feeling, or a nervous feeling, rather then fear.

Now, I wanted to prove myself; I'd show my Village who a Hero was, and loosening my sheath for an easier draw; entered the dark cavern.

The vision of a humans would've lasted them about ten feet, and then would've been engulfed in a unending oblivion; but that of an Elves served indefinitely, our almost supervision on these occasions, were helpful, consuming the slightest ray of light and transforming it into vision.

I waited, for a moment, for my vision to clear and not grow any fuzzier. After checking once more my chain mail and chaps, I walked; straight into a wall; alright, maybe I should wait just a little longer. And I did, and after regaining my pride and vision, I found myself within a single room; small for a cave, it ran ahead to my right.

Going forward, now at a cautious rate, I walked through the entrench to farther within the cave, to saw an empty basin beneath. My route hugged the side of the cavern, and halfway down stopped and descending to the main rock floor; it was my only option; it was that or leave now. I noticed a hole in the wall, at the far side of the cavern, and had just stepped once more when I smelled it.

A reek odor, a stench of death and rotted flesh mixed with the smell of pond scum, and somehow enhanced by magic, filled my nostrils. Then I saw it, an Ogre; fully grown; A bull Ogre, just my luck, I thought.

The Ogre hadn't heard me, or detected me in some other way; and so, the only sensible thing, or at least to me, was to attack it. Inching downward, I started to make out details; which I'd rather not have seen.

Tall, eight feet easy; gray skinned, cracking in places, like a crater spreading, covered his back, torso, and legs. Unlike their children, an adult Ogre lost a tinge of blue every few years, this was an old beasty. His maw was stained, likely red, but I couldn't detect the color; I'd need more light to detect color, and magic if I wished to head deeper into the cave; my eyes were loosing light as it was. His ears, where inward, as in you didn't see them; you'd mistake them for small holes. His skin looked rather oily- slimy, actually, he was hunched forward and covered with green moss and mold; besides that, he was starkly naked. He made my skin crawl, and made me freeze when I saw something, my gaze fell upon a maul, a giant maul; with an impressive head; Can't let him reach it, otherwise I'm done. Maybe it isn't primitive, if it trained itself to use the maul . . .

He was facing the direction of the cavern's next entry way, which now seamed to glow slightly, now I saw a handful of bones; human bones, along with a handful of horse and elk carcasses, not to mention the dung heaps.

It was incessantly cold in the cave; I was surprised at the Ogre, with no source of heat, still lingered in the cave. Normally they were smart enough to know that blankets gave one heat, and normally took them from horses before sinking their jagged jaws into their flesh, that or when they searched through packs; which they were led by their small sense of smell.

Unsheathing my blade at the top of the cavern may have been helpful, but I hadn't thought of this; and so, when I drew my blade, to behead the creature, the hiss of cold steel against the sheath, however well oiled it was, gave away my position.

I was abruptly thrown back, and didn't even see it happen; I just was suddenly ten feet away, lying on my back.

The Ogre, was incredibly fast, and before I could predict, he came; maul in hand . . . Jumping up, thankful for all my years of training and nimbleness, but it wouldn't do me and good without my blade, which was flung a few feet behind me, dropped when I was flung backward.

Flinging myself to the sword, at the same moment the Ogre brought down a heavy swing where I'd been the moment previous. The hilt once again in my hand, no time for saying sorry for our brief separation, I weaved in and out of the Ogre's wild swings; cutting at his hide when the opportunity showed itself.

This gives me an advantage, I thought, just have to weave in and out and be fast, very fast.

I thought this right as the Ogre, mindlessly, back handed me in the chest, something my chain mail, not even a cuirass, was made to withstand; and the pain was something I'd never could've prepared myself to accept. My launch was halted by the force of a wall, and I faintly heard my bones crack; most likely a rib, and I barely registered the bone sticking out from my knee, which had sprouted and ripped the flesh from its brief encounter with the wall. I had less then a minute till I was dead, from either my injuries or the Ogre, and in a mad frenzy, my instinct patched into the feed.

"Waíse heill!" be healed! I yelled, and instantly my bone knitted itself together, the skin over it flowing together in a horrific scene; the ribs, were reset, and my bruises receded. "Reisa sverd! thrysta . . ." raise sword! thrust, my sword, commanded by the magic, raised and impaled itself into the Ogres heart, and non to soon.

The Ogres body, tumbled down, blood flowing from its lips, along with half a dozen cuts and the killing strike, the sword still impaled in his chest; as well as the erupting bowels. That's something they don't tell you about in the Academy, they piss when they die, I thought, fleetingly.

Its body, landed on top of me, and a heavy force of 430 pounds rammed down on my form, crushing me beneath his body, all thoughts of the Academy eliminated from my mind. This, along with the slight headache from the magic, made me release a sharp breath, and with the remaining air which was depleting from my longs, I cried one more word; "Reisa," raise, and his body tumbled sideways.

Slipping out from under half of him was still a mighty feat, and half exhausted, from moving 430 pounds, adrenaline now abandoning my veins, leaved me feeling tired and drained. The maul he wielded was dropped where he stopped, about four and a half feet away. Realization hit me, almost as hard as the Ogres body; I had just been about to die, and saved myself.

No longer did I need a Village behind to back, I had just slain an Ogre, who had slain . . . three humans by the look of it. No longer did I need to prove myself; a burden had been lifted. No longer did I need to provide on others, I had proved that on my journey, however unorthodox my views. I could fend for myself, I could rule the world if I wished . . . Okay, maybe not rule the world, but all the rest was true.

Soaked, by . . . excrement, glad no one else was here to witness that small detail; but than again, it was a spoil of war, I just wished it smelled better and didn't feel so humiliating, I reached for my sword from the dead Ogre, wrenching it out.

Continue to part two . . .