As the game of Capture the Flag goes on, Athenril creeps around in dark corners, searching for the captives… (Hold on to your hats and or your pants, if you're wearing any, ladies and gents, this chapter will be a long one)

Athenril squinted through the darkness, trying to locate a door or a hallway she had missed. After circling the interior of the warehouse three times, you think she would have found another door, but no.

The rotten stench of death caressed her nose as she rounded a corner and saw a hidden pressure plate. She wanted to be cautious and not step on it, (for fear that hundreds of blood-stained spikes would come shooting up from the floor and make her an elf-kabob) but curiosity was shrieking to run straight at it and hope for the best. In the end, she decided to throw something on the pressure plate and see what happened. So, she took an old book that was in her pack and chucked it at the stone slab. There was a soft thud as the book hit the ground and roused up little clouds of dirt and dust. A wooden door swung open with the sound of hinges that needed to be greased. The smell of death, despair, and a soft wailing grew even stronger. Athenril tiptoed to the little slab and cautiously picked up the book. A shrill alarm rang through the warehouse.

Athenril wrinkled her nose in an effort not to shout a string of profanity as the thought "Shit, a release trap!" crossed her mind. Having nowhere else to go, she somersaulted into the doorway that had just opened and eased the door shut as silently as possible. What she saw in the room sickened her.

Dozens of rotting corpses stacked in a corner as if they were simply trash to be burned later. Elves, crammed into cramped wooden cages as if they were no better than rabbits or chickens, most of them so covered in dirt you couldn't tell if they were a boy or a girl. And Maker, the smell!

"Slaves." The word burned her throat and she fought the bile threatening to come up. The sound of frightened yelps came to her ears as they noticed she was there. An elf child with a terrible black eye whimpered out a pitiful plea of

"Please don't hurt us, Serah." Athenril spat on the ground and her disgust turned to boiling anger at the humans who did this. She knelt to a little elf girl, and trying not to sound harsh or sharp, asked

"Where are the human scum that did this to you?" The girl whimpered.

"I don't know." Athenril rummaged through her pack and pulled a small box made of lyrium and ebony out. Lockpicks of all sizes and varieties were neatly arranged in rows. She whipped out a silver one and neatly inserted it in the lock. A satisfying click rang out only moments later and Athenril pulled open the cage door. Trusting the elves not to run away and alert the enemy, she went to work on the other cages.

Athenril peered around in the little crowd of elves, trying to find that little girl again. She felt the oddest connection with her. Athenril felt something tugging at her pants and looked down. There was the little elf girl! Athenril picked her up and held her in the crook of her arm.

"What's your name, da'len?" The little girl peered at her, and then sniffled and sneezed.

"Mavrani Elshaddin. Mavs to my friends."

"Do you like being called 'Mavs'?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Mavs just sounds so... weird."

"No. I don't."

What do you want me to call you then, da'len?"

"My sisters call me Ely." Athenril sighed. Did this child even know what she wanted to be her name?

"But do you like being called Ely?"

"Why do you ask?" Athenril squeezed her eyes shut. Why couldn't the damn child just tell her what she wanted to be called?

"I want to know what you want me to call you."

"Umm..." The big-eyed child placed her index finger and her chin and her brow furrowed, as if she were deep in thought. "I think I want to be called..." Suddenly, like a flash of lightning, another elf appeared in front of Athenril, and she pulled Mavrani away from her arms.

"You leave my sister alone!"

"Leelee!" Mavrani threw her arms around the older elf's neck.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise she was your sister." Athenril's mouth twitched as Mavrani poked her sister in the eye. Luckily, she had it closed.

"Leelee, that's the nice lady who let me out!" The toddler wriggled around to face Athenril. "I want lady to hold me!" Leelee gasped and immediatly bent her knees in a deep bow, Mavrani still in her arms.

"I am so sorry, Messere, I did not realise it was you who freed us! If I had known, I would have-"

"Look, it's okay, really. Mistakes happen. You can better serve me by answering a few questions I have than apoligizing, though." The elf stood up straight and cocked her head slightly at Athenril.

"Okay, ask away."

"What is your name? Surely no parent would burden their child with such a bland name as 'Leelee'."

"My name is Leanthryeas. Ely can't pronounce it so therefore, I am called Leelee. Or just El."

"So you're El and your sister is Ely? Isn't that a little hard to keep straight?"

"Oh, you get it right after awhile. You could call me Lea. I prefer El."

"Can any of you fight?"

"Fight? As in with a sword? Well, a few of us, but I'm not sure we'll be up to it."

"What do you mean by 'us' and 'we'? Surely a girl as young as yourself wouldn't be a warrior yet!"

"No; a girl my age wouldn't be a warrior, I suppose. I'm a rouge. And I will fight by your side if you require me to.

"Can you fight right now, or will you be a burden?

"Not only can I fight right now, but I will. And I promise you, I will be no burden."

"Then let's go, El; grab your weapons and we will be off. It's time that we see where your talk ends and your skill begins, hmmm?"

Damnit, that ending! I'm terrible at writing closes. :(