"King Gahliendo," a servant mumbled humbly, his bald, carved head bowed low, his eyes shadowed. The great red king turned from his mirror, his red hair waving fluidly, like bloody silk.
"What?" the elf asked, his smooth brow furrowed with worry and agitation.
"It's a girl," the servant said mildly.
The king blew through the breezeway, scattering servants, court-goers, and nurses as he went. The servant followed him closely, holding a jar full of some brownish liquid. The halls were silent in the old castle, filled with a somber sort of air. The king raged like a thunderstorm down the halls finally stopping short at a large red door.
"Your Highness," the servant said, "Allow me." He opened the door for the king, balancing the jar in the crook of his elbow. The king brushed past, into the room, which stank of alcohol and birth. The bed in the center was surrounded by nurses, their red faces covered with white cloth.
The kelpie was in the bed, her hair slick with sweat and her hollow eyes fixed on the lump of cloth she was holding. She looked up when the king entered, a snarl on her face. "It's a girl," she spat. The king nodded, his mouth a thin line. The line across his nose was pushed up with disgust at the word 'girl'. He stepped closer, to inspect the child.
It was paler than the elves were, a sort of tan color that was actually pleasant. The little bit of
hair was strawberry blonde, the color of wine in the springtime. She squirmed under the king's cold stare and the kelpie's cold talons. The king glared for a moment, watching the child. Then, just as he was about to turn around and wave the child away, she opened her eyes. Brilliant violet orbs that caught the king as a net a butterfly catches.
"The Warmonger," Gahliendo said breathlessly. The kelpie woman looked from her child to the king, her hollow eyes suddenly fierce. She set the child in her lap, cradling its head between her knees.
"No! It can't be," she said reverently, touching the child's cheek.
"It is. Radequdais, the warmonger. Haste, Oraz!" the king said. The bald servant came forth with the jar, setting the glass on the bed and lifting the child from her mother's leg-cradle. The king took the jar and opened it, taking from it a long, lumped piece of something. A wolf's heartstrings.
The kelpie was suddenly ravenous. "Feed them to her," she hissed, saliva dripping from her gnarled yellow teeth. The gold collar around her throat stretched as she strained toward the child. Gahliendo followed the beast's instructions, dangling the organs into the child's mouth. She engulfed them eagerly, this being the first time she had ever eaten.
"Child, you are the prophecy! Grow strong and sound of mind, and lead our people into the light! Become the warmonger, the destroyer of Man! Radequdais, take these sinews, from the chest of the pied she-wolf, and still them in your soul! Hound of Hell, change the world!" Oraz, the shriveled servant, bellowed as the child ate. She cooed lightly, her purple gems catching the ancient grey light. Her red gums were split with the first of her teeth, long pointed canines. The girl smiled and giggled at the king and her mother.
King Gahliendo, with little Radequdais in his arms, left the small room. He waved a hand at Oraz. As the king walked down the corridor, the shrill screams of a horse being spitted through filled the halls. The kelpie was dead, it was a useless animal anyway. Gahliendo handed the child off to a red-faced, solemn nurse.
"Take her to the basement of the Grand Central Terminal in New York. There will be a troll waiting. Give the child to her, tell her the child's name, and then leave. Don't look back or you will be killed. Do you understand?" Gahliendo growled.
The nurse nodded, coddling the child close to her bosom. She swirled away, her red hair flapping in her wake. The king watched the nurse go with mild disdain. The seer had been wrong, the kelpie had produced no male heir. Only a monster. How completely tragic. And how completely perfect. The thought of killing off humans and the other tribes made the king smile a cold, toothy grin. How completely evil.
"Hush, little Dais." Said the nurse. She was crouched outside the castle, her back on the cold stone. The girl was stirring in her cloths, preparing to begin a good long cry. The nurse held the child close, patting her back and cooing lightly to her, begging her to keep quiet. "They're coming soon, I promise. No much longer, little Dais, not much longer."
Just as the nurse finished, the sound of hooves rang through the little valley. Through the evening mist came four horses of the purest white. Aboard three were tall men, with impossible white skin and long grooves across the bridges of their noses. Their ears were pointed and their eyes were a deep yellow, almost sickly looking.
"Brother! I was afraid you wouldn't come!" the nurse exclaimed. The biggest elf, who was aboard the biggest stallion, said nothing to his sister, only held out his hand for the baby. The nurse grimaced, but handed the child off. "Take her west, away from here, passed the city. Find her a human to live with. Let her grow up away from all of this, so that she will know no war. She will be strong, but she will know life and she will know humans. I pray this will change the course of the prophecy. Oh, and call her Radais."
The big elf nodded, cradled the child close to his chest, and then turned the stallion. He galloped alone, leaving the nurse and the other two elves behind.
"Pray, daughter, that she never meets the king Gahliendo," said one of the men. He was elderly and bearded, with wise eyes.
The nurse wiped her face with her sleeve, revealing chalk-white skin beneath the deep red powder. "Yes, Father. Pray and hope that the demon protects her."
I found some spelling and gramatical errors and am fixing them. ^-^