Page 8 of Awakening the Dark Throne
The crowds in the streets began to scatter and part as they all whispered and gawked at an oncoming convoy. I turned to see a group of light alfar riding on horseback through the town in the distance. The youngest of my family, Nil, wrapped her arms around my waist and hugged me so tight I gasped for breath.
“I love you, Gen. Please don’t go,” she said.
I knelt and took her face in my hands. “I will come back for you…for all of you,” I said, looking up at my family one last time. I kissed Nil on the head and then hugged the rest of them, not knowing if this was the end. I turned from their teary faces and inhaled a deep breath before stepping off into the direct path of my only hope of finding Lily.
Chapter 4
The convoy of light alfar consisted of six males on horseback with a wagon trailing behind them. There was no mistaking an alfar, regardless of whether they were light or dark. They were magnificent creatures with flawless skin and striking features. They held themselves with grace and elegance as if their bodies had never seen a day’s work. Male or female, their bodies were tall and trim.
An alfar’s hair was always straight, not a wave in sight. If you were an alfar from the light court, you would have white, grey, or blonde hair. The dark alfar were distinguished by their black-as-night hair. The six males that approached were all striking in appearance. No emotion showed on their faces, yet their presence demanded attention.
Their bodies were lean with muscle showing through the thin linen shirts that adorned their pale skin. Each wore shades of brown leather pants with swords and daggers attached to a belt at their waist. Knee-high boots padded down the cobblestone street, barely making a sound.
The people of our small town scurried past the group, trying not to catch their attention. The alfar leader stopped by the older man with the three young girls. The man smiled joyously as he presented the girls to the alfar.
One alfar dismounted and headed towards them. They beamed with excitement. He checked them over, circling as if he was assessing farm animals. He touched their faces, checked their hands, and looked into their eyes for any signs of sickness. He appeared to be satisfied with their physical health. He took them by the arms and led them to the back of the wagon without a word. The alfar leader tossed the older man a pouch of coins in exchange for his new batch of slaves.
The alfar didn’t have to pay him anything. They could take whomever they wished and there would be nothing any of us could do about it. The money was a way of easing the tension between the races and proving to the humans they weren’t beasts like the dark alfar. No matter what price the alfar paid for you, a slave was still a slave.
The older man bowed to the passing convoy as they slowly continued forward. I clenched my fists, moving directly into the path of one of the riders. The horse halted to a stop as I stood firm, not letting it pass. The male who led the convoy turned his focus towards me from on top of his horse.
The alfar male had long blonde hair pulled back into a half ponytail with small braids intertwined throughout. He had piercing blue eyes and a face that looked as if it was made of pure marble. He was stunning and elegant. Everything I wasn’t. He looked down at me, his expression seemed to be emotionless.
“Move,” he said firmly.
I swallowed as I felt my body begin to tremble. “I wish to work for the light alfar,” I said, with all the courage I could muster.
He looked me up and down, then smirked. “When was the last time you bathed? You smell worse than my steed.” He straightened in the saddle.
“I will take whatever job you offer. Please, just give me a chance to prove myself. You can keep the two shillings. I will come willing and freely,” I begged.
“You aren’t worth two shillings by the look of you,” he said, before turning back to signal to the one who had assessed the other girls. Horse hooves clicked softly as the leader approached. His beautiful moonlight white hair trailed down his neck past his shoulders. His eyes were yellow as the sun and his face had a slight golden tint to it. Built like a soldier, his muscles bulged through his white linen shirt.
The blue-eyed male bent down to whisper to the white-haired one, quietly enough that I couldn’t make out what he was saying. The yellow-eyed alfar turned his head slowly towards me, taking note of my dirty clothes and frail form. He dismounted and approached. I trembled at his size but forced myself to stay rooted in place. He took my chin between his cold fingers and turned my face from side to side as he evaluated me.
“Open,” he said, pulling my chin down. I bared my teeth as he checked for any rot or decay. I closed my mouth as we stood in silence. “Your eyes,” he said with interest.
“They’re a common trait on my father's side,” I responded. Not actually a lie. I figured I had his eyes since my mothers were a pale brown, from what I could remember. The white-haired alfar let go of my chin and straightened in front of me.
“What talents do you have?”
“I can clean, cook, sew, tend to the fields. Whatever you need, I can do it,” I said.
His eyebrow arched and his stone-cold face cracked into a small smirk, as if he could see through my blatant lie. He took two silver shillings from his pocket and placed them in my hand. I looked down at the small coins that represented the value of my life.
“I told the other male I would come for free,” I stuttered.
He folded my fingers around the coins and held my hand for a brief moment. I had never been this close to an alfar before. His skin was cold, yet smooth as silk. He gestured toward my family across the street. “Give it to them, then get into the wagon,” he said, before turning back to mount his horse.
I ran across the street and gave Jordan the two shillings. He took my wrist before I could run back. I turned to see his face wracked with guilt and fear.
“Good luck,” Jordan whispered.
I nodded and then headed back to the wagon. The horses took off before I took a seat across from the three young girls dressed in white. They giggled and smiled at one another, not bothering to look my way.
We made five more stops, picking up other young workers from different towns and settlements before we made our way to the protective border. I peeked my head out of the wooden wagon to see the border markers coming into view. Two alfar trailed the wagon, while the other four took the lead, fanning out along the path.
There were ten of us in the wagon. The alfar had collected three additional girls like the ones from my town. They were clean and dressed in a similar fashion to one another. The other three were young men under the age of twenty. They were taken from their families against their wills. They looked nervous and afraid, unsure of what their futures held. One of the finely dressed young girls reached across the wagon and took a young boy's hand.
