A New World

by Brendan O'Neill

  Outside, the night carried a forbidding cold. It took me about ten minutes to reach the Lounge. The damned building was all the way across the compound and the busiest by far. Two burly men stood guard outside the doors, something like bouncers at a club. But they didn’t pay me any mind as I pulled open the door and walked inside. In fact, they didn’t pay any of the patrons any mind. I was confused by their lack of interest until I got an eyeful of the interior.

  The air was thick with the smell of sweat, unwashed bodies, and tobacco smoke. A thin wooden partition separated a packed area of waiting men from the rest of the building. Occasionally the cheap door in the center of that partition would open and a grinning man would walk out and one of the waiting men would take his place inside. It wasn’t the men packed in the tiny room laughing and boasting of their prowess or the two more guards by the cheap door that raised the hackles on my neck. It was the sobbing of a woman from behind the partition that sparked my anger. I followed one of the waiting patrons to the cheap door, but the guards stopped me from going through.

  “Wait your turn,” the huge guard said holding up a meaty hand.

  “I just wanted to browse,” I said forcing a smile. “See my options.”

  “You arrive with the supply run this afternoon?” he asked. When I nodded idiotically, he looked to his partner and received only a shrug. “Yeah, alright,” he said resignedly. “Just a quick peak and not a sound.”

  He opened the cheap door and escorted me through. The walls of blankets that formed a hallway did nothing to hide the sound of flesh slapping against flesh that came from behind those blankets, or the smell of sex that permeated the air. My escort stood next to the door as I tip-toed through the hallway peeking past the different blankets.

  The blankets formed ten different rooms, each with a different female elf inside. Each woman was tied naked to a bed in different stages of assault from one of the local males. The victims were chained by the wrist to their beds with just enough length in the chain that their assailant could move them into whatever position suited him best. Most of the brutalized women wore either blank expressions on their faces or looks of resignation. I caught one woman’s eyes as I peeked through, but she looked right through me with a blank, empty gaze.

  Sobs led me to the far right chamber of blankets. The ‘fresh meat’ the guard had been referring to lay face down on a bed in that chamber. She sobbed into her arms as a wire-thin man grunted loudly while sodomizing her. On the chair at the corner of the chamber rested a perfectly folded blood-red robe.

  I looked back at the evil man with undisguised contempt and hatred. Already I was fantasizing about killing him in countless ways. But another glance at the elf sobbing under her uniquely radiant auburn hair reminded me that I didn’t have the luxury of fantasy. The women were my priority. I pushed the blanket closed, feeling my stomach begin to lurch heavily at the women’s plight. It took several moments of concentration before I was back in control.

  The guard grab my shoulder just as I’d regained control and led me back beyond the cheap door. Just like before, the waiting area was packed; it was standing room only. Except for two seats. In spite of the sheer density of bodies in the room, there was a seat open on either side of a woman. While I’d been in back, a woman in red robes had showed up to wait on her compatriot. I wasn’t about to question my luck.

  She was short with greasy brown hair and her eyes never left the floor in front of her. Her once scarlet robes were faded, wrinkled, and stained at the hemline. There was a distinct aura of discomfort that exuded from any man that got to close to her and the earlier conversations and boasting had stopped. The men were silent as death, avoiding looking at the woman as she sat quietly her hands crossed in her lap.

  I steeled myself as I sat down next to the red mage. I could feel the eyes of the other men on me, but I wasn’t sure what they were thinking. Were they worried I was about to get myself fried or were they amused by it?

  “I’m surprised you have to wait,” I said to the quiet woman. “I would think you spell casters could move straight to the front of the line.”

  “Senior-Brother Parnassus would be upset if I interrupted his recreation,” she said just audibly enough to be heard over the laughing men. “Now that I’ve completed my duties, I’m to wait here on his convenience.”

  “I’m guessing that Senior-Brother Parnassus is your other red-robed colleague?”

  She gave me a silent nod.

  “Ah,” I said. “And what do you do for recreation?”

  “I have little time for recreation,” she said. “I’m only an acolyte in the sacred Brotherhood. Most of my time is spent in practice and study.” I could hear a sense of relief when she said ‘practice and study’. I didn’t know if her studies were an escape from what I’m guessing was a domineering Senior-Brother or a true lust for knowledge, but either way it was an opening. A hopeful plan started to form in my head.

  “And what would you say if I told you I had an unprecedented artifact?” I asked.

  Her head actually turned toward me. I could see a flicker of interest on her face. Whether it be the study of an artifact, or the chance to get out from under her oppressor, I offered her something she desperately needed: hope.

  “And what could one of the unenlightened have that the Academy does not?” she asked. Her words were hard, but there was still a hopefulness in her voice.

  “I could show you,” I said. “If you think you can master it.”

  A small smile played across her lips. “Alright,” she said. “Show it to me.”

  “Here? Around all them?” I balked pointing at the surrounding men. “Somewhere a bit more private might be better.”

  A look of distrust shrouded her face. I didn’t blame her. A woman would have to be desperate to trust a strange man “somewhere a bit more private”. Of course, in her position, desperate was a given. My only hope lay in the possibility the woman was desperate enough to agree.

  The woman studied me for long seconds before coming to a conclusion. “Come with me,” she said as she rose. I followed her out into the early-season biting cold. She didn’t say a word as we walked and I was comfortable with the silence. Following a mage in a superstitious environment like this compound drew enough attention. Speech would be like sending up a flare. Every passing eye followed us suspiciously as she led me to the mages’ tower.

  She turned on me almost the instant the door closed. “So where is this artifact?” Her tone told me if I didn’t produce I’d regret it. So I produced.

  My hand slid slowly behind me to draw out the pistol from the small of my back. Its chamber was loaded and hammer back. My plan had substantial risk, but it was all I could come up with.

  “What is it?” she asked in amazement. Her previous doubts had vanished the moment she saw the alien metal design.

  “I don’t know,” I lied. “My father shared it with me on his deathbed. He died before he could tell me anything about it, only that it’s been hidden with our family for generations and restored as best as was able. Is it worth some kind of reward?”

  She didn’t seem to notice the question. In fact, she was so involved in her new treasure she only barely noticed me. “It’s got a strange smell,” she said absently, talking more to herself than me.

  The small woman turned the weapon in her hands, her curiosity overwhelming her good sense. I reached out and touched the metal with a finger as she turned the pistol over and over in absolute infatuation.

  “It’s beautiful isn’t it?” I stated. “It’s bold, stark lines, the cold hard metal. It’s a treasure unlike any other in this world.” I continued to run my finger about its metal frame, getting her used to me touching it. “Imagine the prestige if you were to take something like this back to the Academy,” I said.

  The woman’s eyes were shining with a combination of intense curiosity and desperate hope. From the way she handled my weapon, she obviously wasn’t an engineer like Shieldwall. She was comp
letely oblivious to its use or design. I didn’t have long to wait before she made the same mistake everyone does when they’re handling their first firearm.

  “It appears to be a simple mechanical devi…”

  She didn’t get the chance to finish her words. When she turned it to look down the barrel, my finger was already on the gentle curve of pistol’s trigger guard. It only had to move the smallest distance to give the trigger a light tap. The pistol erupted with an angry crack and the poor girl’s brains exploded onto the ceiling. My longshot payed off.

  Part of me felt bad for the girl as I look at her sprawled form on the floor. I didn’t even know her name and yet it was my fault her warm blood was pooling on the cold stone under her ruined head. To this day I have little doubt that she was as much a victim in her own way as any of the elves enslaved in that Lounge. But there were two points I couldn’t ignore. If the elves had told me the truth about red mages then she had the power to stop this. And the only way I was getting home was through elvin help. That meant making sacrifices.

  As I picked my weapon up off the floor, I estimated the time to be about thirty minutes since I saw the yellow mage drink from the bottle of wine. If the he hadn’t checked out by now, he would soon. And whether human mages could sense disturbances from the deaths of other mages as the elf wizards could or not, it didn’t matter. The sound of the gunshot would have that skinny fucker pelting back here pretty quick.

  Back when I came up with this plan, I’d hoped the woman would take me back to their tower. When people want to feel safe they go home, so I’d expected her to bring me here. And three steps back put me against the wall next to the front door. With the hinges less than a foot from my right shoulder, I had less than a minute to wait before the door suddenly flew open. I heard only three fast footfalls before silence.

  “What the blazes??!!” came a breathy male voice. Shock and terror choked his words into a whisper.

  I transferred my pistol into my left hand and moved just far enough from behind the door that I could see the back of a tall thin man in red robes. His hands reached up and pulled the hood of his robe down as he stared at the dead woman on the floor. I raised my left and held it less than an inch from the back of the man’s buzz cut head. For a split second silence reigned. Then it was shattered by the crack of my pistol. The man’s dead body fell over that of the young woman.

  I pushed the door closed and locked it. With one last look at the carnage in the lowest floor of the tower I marched upstairs. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the girl anymore. After a couple minute’s searching, I found the red mages room on the third floor. Inside were two clean red robes.

  I put one of his robes on and found my way to the roof. At first, the compound looked tranquil. Nothing to worry the inhabitants. But on second glance, I notice the watch braziers along the south wall were out. Looking very carefully I could see a swarm of shadows crawling over that wall. Next the west braziers suddenly went out, followed by the north and east braziers almost simultaneously.

  Minutes later screams rose from the all over the compound. Men and women ran out of buildings trying to understand the reason for the emergency. It didn’t take long before waves of elves swept over them. Soon the compound’s entire populace was in a panic. Several men shouted up to me from the base of the tower thinking I was the mage. They begged me to use my magic to destroy the elves. I just watched as they died where they stood, arrows from the darkness. A few lucky souls were able to retreat as the elves rushed in. Small desperate pockets of resistance formed in several places, but they didn’t last. In less than fifteen minutes the entire compound was overrun.

  The Retribution

  I knew the elves would be here soon and took off the red robes as I descended to the ground floor. No point in taking stupid chances. insistent pounding and agitated shouting started while I was still on the second floor. I opened the door of the mages tower to stern elf faces.

  Three Rangers awaited outside. Two brushed past me to search the tower as the third led me to an open common area in the south of the compound. There the elf king stood with his army, surrounding the remaining crowd of cowed and broken humans. Resting against the west wall were about three dozen human bodies, most wearing guard uniforms. The elves overran the defenders so quickly that relatively few humans died.

  Two great bonfires lit up the south common area almost like it was daytime. They’d been built from the stores of the wood processing building and paneling from various structures. Between them, the prisoners had been collected. The survivors were separated into two groups, men and guards in one section and non-combatant women with the children in the other. A skinny, balding man with a miserable comb over groveled on his knees in front of the king for mercy. The king ignored him like he wasn’t there as he waved me over, a friendly smile on his face. His son and the scar-faced elf ranger stood to his right. She didn’t smile at me, but it was the first time she didn’t glower at me. A heavily armored dwarf stood just to the kings left, along with ten more dwarves nearby. While I couldn’t see the face of the dwarf near the king, no one but Shieldwall would have the influence to stand that close.

  “My friend!” the elf king bellowed at me. “I’m so glad you weren’t harmed!” He actually embraced me. It wasn’t friendship. Nobody does an about face that fast. He was putting on a show for the captives. Letting them know he has humans loyal to him.

  “Did you find anything… upsetting during your time here?” the king asked me. His eyes flitted over my left shoulder. I look to see several elvin women staggering away from the direction of the Lounge, each covered with a long cloak. Most were dazed, staggering with jerky automated movements like they were robots. A few cried hysterically, needing to be restrained when they saw their former captors.

  “Yeah,” I said as we watched the sad procession of brutalized women. “I found what you mean.”

  “You claim they’re not your people,” he said quietly. “Now it’s time for you to prove it.” The elf king turned and raised his hands to the crowd. “Gathered friends, honored guests, and human invaders. Our forest once reached into the Dragontooth Mountains. There…” he pointed to the gate in the south wall, “a hickory tree once stood. A hickory that I remember playing in when I was a child. All around were succulent huckleberries and playful deer. But then they came.” The king pointed at the cowering humans. “They cut our forests, slaughtered our animals, and burned our berry bushes. Worse than that they hunted us in our own land like game! They killed our men for sport. And our women soon learned it’s better to die than to be taken alive.”

  Guilty eyes turned to the gate most of the elven women had just left through. Two stayed behind to see how punishment would be meted out, one of which had uniquely radiant auburn hair. “But there are those who claim to be different from the others. Those humans who understand barbarity will not be tolerated in any form! One such human stands before you here.” His left hand swept toward me in an overly grandiose fashion. “This man helped us to retake our land. He helped us to free our people.”

  The elf king paused and his eyes shifted to me, a dark glint in his eyes. After watching me for a couple seconds his attention turned back to the crowd “This man who helped us free our people will now help us again. He will be the one to pass judgement on these violating terrorists!”

  Every eye shifted to me in shock and I stared hard at the king. He was testing me again. He couldn’t accept the thought of a human who was different from the rest. The elf was determined to show that I was a pretender.

  Unfortunately for him, there were two points he failed to consider. One: I was desperate to get home and needed the elves to do so. And two: I had a distinct hatred of people who would do this to women and there was no code of laws here to protect them.

  I walked forward to the bald man. He was on his knees and crying into the hard packed ground. “I assume you’re the leader?”

  No response except sobs from him.

&nbs
p; “So I should be speaking to someone else then?” I asked politely if almost bored.

  “Yes, yes, yes!” he shrieked. “I’m Governor Salazar, and I would like to negotiate terms!”

  “Terms? What terms would those be?”

  “All civilized peoples understand lords, generals, and important officials are exempt from any and all dungeons and tortures. They must be ransomed back. It’s a privilege of rank.”

  “So whatever punishment I decide will be appropriate for them you feel you should be spared of?” I asked as I looked down on the foul man. Despite the chill of the night, we were both sweating. Him from fear and me from rage.

  “Absolutely. That is the way of things.” He was just starting to relax when my personality suddenly changed.

  “And what of the elf women?” I growled, pointing at the burning lounge. All pretense of politeness was gone. My eyes burned with rage and my face was livid. “Do civilized people do that? It was on your authority that it was built, and only you had the authority to shut it down.”

  Salazar babbled a few incomprehensible words before he finally got the words out. “The mages forced me! I couldn’t say no.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yes, yes!” Salazar sobbed at my feet. He clutched at my legs like a scared child would clutch at the legs of a parent.

  “And how often did you patronize the establishment?” I growled. “How many elf tears soaked your skin?” All I received in response was a strangled cry of desperation.

  I stared at the man, my stomach heaving with rage. I wanted to throttle the shit out of him right there. But no. A better idea came to me.

  “Governor Salazar, you’ve moved me,” I said. “We won’t execute you.” Cries of dismay and dark looks covered the face of every elf but one. The elf king wore the smallest smile of victory, thinking my actions would prove my weakness. There was a certain smugness in him as he raised his hand to silence the angry elves.