Chapter 4

More of it for all ye admiring minions. One short chapter and one long chapter... because I'm lazy.

Wishela looked around in awe as she was carried to the king. The walls of the caves were covered in rich tapestries and torches. How come this king person is so rich?, she wondered. She reached the kings room and sat in wonder while she was tied to a torch holder. She gazed around her, turning her head slowly, as to make sure she took everything in.

"Child!" The King barked at the little elf. Wishela's face whipped around to the sound, anger boiling in her. She understood all of a sudden. This man was definitely the evil man her parents spoke of and the one who had sent those lizard people to kill them, this was the man. She stared him straight in the eyes. She remembered her mother's words, we are elves, we are far better than these lizards that rule us

"Don't you dare call me a child! I am probably far older than your years, you lizard" She spat out the last word, new courage found within her.

"Why you impudent little fool! You will soon learn you place among Larmonians, for you are now a prisoner, and we hold the key to your life!"

"Well, then it seems you hold no power over me then, for I would much rather die and join my parents than let a big toad like you rule my every move." Dartolia glared at the little elf.

"You will pay for your petty name calling, runt! And we'll see if a little hunger loosens your tongue hmm? Take her away!"

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Far from the woodlands came a ringing, merry sound:

When a world wakes to spring

The last of the mighty Elfin clans

Let all that are good sing

"Here they come! Hurrah! We are saved!

Don't they make a sight?"

No more shall we be enslaved

For all Elves shall unite!

The sun seemed to agree, as it bounced of the West River that had, down the river, broke free of the icy bonds of the woodlands. Lilacs joined in the merriment as they danced with the breeze. Spring blanketed the meadows. Green apples and their nut friends hung from ever branch to be seen.

Arle was returning from yet another raid on the Larmonian camp stationed in the Hills of Lions. His added nutrients and hidden packages bulged from his jiggling stomach as he skipped along through the blossoming meadows toward the glade where he and his mother lived. He skipped while singing to the invigoration of springtime.

Tweet, Tweet, the bird sings

Oh wise one, you know best

Stay in your tree and take a rest

Far from where you grew

Tweet, Tweet

The exhilaration of spring seemed too much for the young elf. He babbled and generally tripped over himself in his lightheaded glee. He cartwheeled and somersaulted, showing off his Elfin agility to no one in particular. Lightheadedness and cartwheels were not a good mix, and he finally tripped over himself and sprawled out on the ground.

The two Larmonians who had heard his singing took their chance, he didn't notice them until it was too late, and they stood over him smiling at their prize.

Arle couldn't even be saddened in this weather, and he smiled up at them, ignoring his overly large stomach.

"Hello there! Fine day, ain't it? Nothing like that woodlands to the east, eh?" The smaller Larmonian kicked him to silence.

"You're not amusing, you fat little elf"

"You don't say? Most find me hysterical! The other day-" Once again he was kicked to silence, this time by the bigger Larmonian.

"Eh, you watch where you're putting your feet!" Sneering the Larmonian kicked again, only to find himself flat on the ground, Arle had grabbed his foot and tripped him.

Growling, the smaller Larmonian hissed and scowled at him, drawing his sword "Get up, elf, Dartolia wants you" Admitting surrender, Arle rose and was taken to the Larmonian king.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Only a small bit of sunlight reached the dark dungeon cell where Wishela was thrown. It was an elf's worst nightmare, no light, no air, no animals, just wet, cold darkness. A lone lark's death cry could be heard echoing about the walls every now and then, most creatures around the Larmonian camp had been killed or had fled.

Wishela sat, she always sat, that's all she could do, sit. She thought, and every time she sat and thought, there was less to think about, she had already conquered the topics of, Can I get out? Why are the Lamonians so strong? Is there any chance of escaping? Does anyone notice I'm gone? And, What's the meaning of life?, which was the one she was working on now. All other prisoners were too far away to speak with or had gone insane, and calling out amused the guards. She felt alone and completely forgotten, sitting all by herself in an elvish hell.

"Get! C'mon keep your pointy ears headed straight and don't you even think about singing! Ouch! The little rouge bit me!"

"Well you should'a kept your filthy hands off me" Arle had lost some of his springtime glee down in the dungeons.

"You impudent little brat! I'll show you filthy! -OUCH! Ishi what was that for?"

"Keep your hands off the elf, we were told he wasn't to be hurt" Completely entranced in her thought topic, Wishela had failed to notice the group shuffling down the hallway towards her.

"Leggo you little brat! Ishi, can't we just knock the little fiend out?"

"NO!" Drawn by the shouting, Wishela watched silently from her cell door, there was a clicking in the lock, and as Wishela stepped back she was bowled over by a flying lump. They toppled and hit the floor hard as the cell door slammed. Wishela shot out from under the lump, groping for a weapon until she remember there was nothing. The lump crawled into the sunlight so Wishela saw it was an Elfin boy, not much older than herself.

Squinting through the shadows, the boy recognized one of his own kind and smiled broadly. Wishela, who had grown rather pessimistic, stared blankly into the smiling face.

Oh, the luck a lad could hold

All locked up such a lass!

Oh my joy I can't withhold!

Too bad we can't get out... alas

At this point, Arle couldn't take the blank face any longer and he charged into the darkness and began twirling he cellmate around in his own sort of dance. Simultaneously, Wishela found that she couldn't take this buoyant elf any more and she cracked up.

"There we go! A smile, not to be patronizing and all that, but that sullen face of yours doesn't really add to the scenery in this retched little hell, don't ya think?"

"Well who's been looking at me for the past, I don't know, month or two?"

"A month or two? Wow, and you're not insane? This cold, dark, wet, dark, stony, dark cell pit, ugh... I don't think I'd last a week."

"Thanks, it's good to know"

"Don't worry, we'll escape, just wait and see- what's your name again?"

"Wishela, what's yours?"

"I'm Arle, but, aren't you Melou and Tisme's daughter?"

"Yes... how'd you know?"

"Karmina told me that their little girl was captured, but I didn't know that you hadn't been murdered or something, no one did, that's why we didn't come and get you."

"We?" Wishela was hopeful, we meant plural, plural meant an organized group, which meant another rebellion.

"My mother and I"

"Oh..." Wishela sighed, another rebellion would never take hold, the creatures around the Larmonian camp and beyond are too afraid at this point. "What'd they throw you in here for?"

"Being alive I s'pose, they just caught me is all, spring gets to my head ya know."

"Spring? SPRING? Did spring finally come to the woodlands?"

"Probably not, my mother and I are from the meadow glade."

"Tell me all about it! We're going to be here for a longtime."

"Nonsense, I can get us out and we always have this!"

"Have what?" Wishela was hoping it was a magical rock or something that gave off light, the pair sat down and he showed her what really was his bulging belly.

"I've got cheese, nuts, ham, fruit, wine and some of these lovely biscuit things." He turned to lay out the biscuit things to find half of the food he had just put down gone already. "What do they feed you?"

"Nothing, and mum never gave me this stuff, we always had a lean stew, or broth or some new gravy she made to cover the rotten taste of things."

"Joy..." Wishela composed herself.

"Did you say you could get us out of here?"

"Why of course!" Arle puffed up his chest, "Arle can get anywhere!" Wishela's face had returned to its utter blankness.

"Didn't your mother teach you to be modest?"

"Um..."

"Well, can you get us out of this cruel nightmare?"

"Sure, lemme look around" Wishela sat back and watched as the elfin boy got down on his hands and knees and retraced her steps from earlier that month, he felt every brick, every stone and tried the door and the window, just had she had done. When she couldn't take putting the boy through anymore world, she let her laughter spill out.

"Arle, there's no way out, no lose stone, no flimsy metal pole, I've tried everything already."

"Well, then there's only one was out!" He said firmly. Wishela raised an eyebrow. "The door!"

"Sit back in the sun Arle, I think the dark, damp air is going to your head."

"No, No! I'm fine, you shouldn't be so pessimistic, you can always go out through the door, and all we need is for someone to open it!" Wishela stared blankly at him. "And for one of these idiot guards to open the door, they need to have a reason, right?" The idea slowly was dawning on Wishela.

"So we make em' a distraction, right? Make them need to open the door for some reason."

"Aye!" The two new friends sat next to each other, smug at their own brains and they began to think.

That's all for now. If you like and want s'more, lemme know I'm not just wasting my time and throw me a review . It's always been good motivation for me to get up off my (censored, because nothing's happened yet to make this rated PG-13) and actually do something, like post more chapters!