Chapter I: How the Other Half Lives

        Faerín stood on the tips of her toes to catch a gust of wind across her cheek, smiling as it coaxed a sigh from content lips and blew past her shoulder.  I have not been outside in weeks!  Soft steps took her towards the spring in the nearby woodland, walking over rolling hills that looked like waves of watery grass in the strong midday winds.  I missed this so much.  Why am I always assigned to cleaning Kírli’s section of the mansion?  She is the messiest elf I have ever had the dishonor of cleaning up after.
        “Faerín!”
        She groaned and turned around only to watch Raanmir run into her, limbs flailing everywhere.
        “What are you doing here, Raan?” A quick shove solved their tangled problems, both children sending the other deathly glowers.  
        “Evenne needs us to help cook supper tonight and sent me to fetch you.  Do not give me that look!” He pushed her over, black hair rushing to block her scowl while arms locked in angry support.   
        “Why are we needed?  Our assignment for this cycle is cleaning after the Lord’s children, not cooking!  Why do we have to clean up after them anyways? The eldest is two cycles younger than us and capable of taking care of his own messes!”
        “Look, I hate picking up after Lord Tavarín and his stuck-up offspring too, but we are not in any position to say no,” both looked down at the metal collars locked around the other’s neck, frowning at the crest of Lord Tavarín’s family etched into it bitterly.  “Slaves do not have the right, remember?”
        Faerín rolled her eyes and stood up, “Like they would ever let us forget it?”  She took her brother’s hand and pulled him off the ground.  “Let us go and get this over with as fast as possible—I want to come back here later to wash off,” she shook her soiled excuse for a shirt.  “I have not seen a bath in weeks!”
        “I have noticed,” Raanmir laughed and blocked a hard blow aimed for his shoulder.  “What?” He tried to look innocently towards his sister.  “I was just replying to your statement.”
        “If you say so,” Faerín smiled and gave his head a playful push.
        The two identical twins walked with inhuman grace through the open field, tattered and worn clothing clinging loosely around both of them.  
        “Do you think Evenne is our real mother?”
        Raanmir shrugged, “Probably not.”
        “Why do you think she takes care of us so diligently then?” Faerín mindlessly pulled at her collar, green-gold eyes wandering, lost in thought.  “It is almost like she feels obligated to watch over us.”
        “I have noticed that as well,” Raanmir shrugged again, “but it is not like that changes anything.  Knowing who our parents are will not change the fact that we are slaves to and, as such, are bound to Lord Tavarín’s tyrannical ways for life.”
        “You do not have to remind me, Raan,” she jerked her fingers off the collar, hopeless fury erupting.  “I know all the rules set for bastards like us better than I know what I look like when I am clean.”
        “I admit I do not know what to say to that,” Raanmir took her hand and kissed it.  “Will that make do?”
        “It will,” Faerín embraced him warmly, kissing his right temple before letting go.
        The day was hot and sticky, the water in the air a palpable and oppressive force.  Dew attached itself to their battered and tired shoes, some of the droplets lucky enough to find their way to sweaty, warm skin.
        “Remember when Evenne took us out here the first time?”
        Faerín snorted.  “You almost killed yourself by provoking Lady Merithral's horse.  I have never laughed so much in my life.”
        “Evenne was scared out of her mind,” he laughed.  “We must have been about… five cycles old then,” he chuckled, “eight cycles have flown by without us even realizing it, huh?”
        Faerín nodded and extended her arm, letting the dew collect in her palm as they walked before dislodging it with a simple tilt of her hand.  “Do you think our parents wanted to keep us?”
        “Why do you keep asking this?” Raanmir’s angular, very elfish face pulled itself into a sudden frown.  “They do not matter.  That rain of thought will only bring you misery.  Besides, we have one another,” he took her hand again, “and that is enough for me.  No more talk of our parents for a while, please.  It is… disconcerting to say the least.”
        “I am sorry, Raan,” Faerín put an arm around her brother, slightly pointed ear brushing against his.  “Do you think there is to be a great feast tonight?  Evenne never pulls us out of our assigned duties unless she needs extra help and a feast would require all the slaves and servants to prepare it!”
        Raanmir laughed and shook his head.  “You are always full of wild ideas, Fae, though I think you are right about this one.  Still, do you ever get tired of imagining the impossible and unlikely?”
        “Never!”  She ran ahead with a giddy smile plastered against her lips, long legs striding up the hill before them.  “You cannot make me stop dreaming, Raan!”
        “I do no ever want you to, Fae,” his words floated towards her with the breeze along with his smile.
        She stopped and caught the secret desire, turning to look at her pale, solemn brother.  “I wish I could stay that I never will, but I know better than that,” those words of truth made both their faces immobile and silent, unable to keep up their delusions of happiness and ignorance.  
        The two of them reached the top of the hill.  A large manor stood out in the small valley, its large, very human design unappealing to the two half-elves. “And to think,” Faerín scoffed and began walking towards their unwanted home after Raanmir, “this is the home of a grand and noble elf.”
        “You should see the pictures of the Highlord’s mansions.  Yes,” he laughed at Faerín’s gaping mouth, “as in he has more than one.  He actually has one for each mistress—or so they say.”
        “When I grow up, I will only have one husband and no lovers.”
        “Or, if I have my way, you will remain celibate until your suitor manages to win me over,” he tousled her black, beautiful hair.  
        “Which will be never,” Raanmir tumbled to the ground with a playful shove.  “You would never let another male touch me, Raan.”
        “Not unless I knew he would never hurt you,” he pulled her down next to him, resting his forehead against hers.  “You are all I have in this world, Fae.  I do no intend to lose you to the whim of a hormonal male.”  
        The two locked eyes as Faerín kissed him on the brow, seeing how vulnerable her brother—who always seemed so tough and protective—really was.  He needs me just as much as I need him, Raanmir stood up with a grunt and gave her a helping hand.  I will not let him down.
        “Shall we go find out why Evenne needs our help?”
        Faerín nodded and giggled, punching Raanmir.  “You are it!” her strides were powerful and true, knowing her brother would not be far behind.
        They raced one another past the mounted guard near the large moat surrounding the manor.  So many slaves have died in these waters, Raanmir stared at the murky depths, shivering at the memory of the countless would-be escapees that had been caught trying to ford the moat only to further Tavarín’s favorite pastime—executing human slaves.  I hate that elf so much.  Why does he despise humans so? Unable to find an answer, Raanmir ran after Faerín across the bridge and into the courtyard of the behemoth Lord Tavarín called his “humble abode”.
        “Hurry up, why are you being so slow?” Faerín noted his thoughtful, blank stare and shook him by the shoulder.  “Look, I know things seem so pointless but do not give up on me.  Please, Raan I cannot survive this nightmarish place without your support and love.”
        “I… know,” a loud sigh escaped his lips.  “I am just tired of being treated like I am less than everyone else not because I am human—but because of the elfish blood in our veins,” Faerín shied away a little as his anger grew.  “It is not like we could control our parents’ actions!  If I could, I would go back in time and stop them from creating us!” Raanmir panted, breathing heavily in a blinding onslaught of hurt and rage.    
        “Is something wrong, slave?” A very cold yet sweet voice asked.
        The two children looked up only to stare back at the ground in a sudden bow.  “My Lady, we did not see you.  What can we do to be of service to you?”
        “You, girl,” the tall, blonde elf motioned for Faerín to follow her.  “You will dress me tonight since my maid is sick.  As for you,” she handed a letter to Raanmir.  “Give this to the cook, Evenne.  I trust you know who she is?”
        “Yes, Lady Merithral.  She was kind enough to raise my sister and me since we were infants.”
        Something about that statement made the Lady flinch, but neither child had the courage to speak of it and only exchanged knowing, very confused glances.
Rumor has it that Evenne used to be her maid.  I wonder why she gave her up.
        “Come, child,” the Lady demanded, picking up her skirt and walking across the courtyard, Faerín staying far behind her in reverence and fear.  
        Be safe, Fae, Raanmir ran off towards the kitchen, clutching the note tight in his pocket.  

        “Hurry, slave,” Lady Merithral sighed impatiently.  “The dinner starts in less than an hour, child.  Have you never dressed a noble before?”
        “N-no,” Faerín lost the small thread that she had been trying to wind through Merithral’s flawless hair.  “No, I have not ever had the…fortune to.” Stupid stuck up woman, she screeched as the fine needle pricked her skin, blood sailing onto the noblewoman’s dress.  “I-I am so sorry madam, let me get you another dress.”
        “Leave it,” the woman took hold of Faerín’s hand.  “No one will notice a small drop of blood, especially not tonight.  Tavarín will, doubtlessly, be drunk by the end of the evening.”
        So he does hit her.  The rumors were true after all, Faerín could not help but feel bad for the Lady.  
        “What is your name?” The Lady scrutinized her carefully.  “You do not look human.”
        Faerín almost laughed but caught herself before her bitterness was revealed.  “My name is Faerín, my Lady and, unfortunately, I am half human, half elf.”
        “How is that unfortunate?” The Lady began to dress herself, putting on an emerald, satin robe with intricate, gold stitching that perfectly matched her eyes.
        “I do not belong to either race, my Lady.  I am your slave as a human, but as an elf, I am… nothing,” and never will be.
        “Tell me who your parents are.”
        “I wish I knew, Lady,” Faerín placed a golden, very modest tiara on Merithral’s head.  “May I ask the relevance of that question?”
        “No, you may not.  You are still my slave, and as such cannot ask questi—
        “I know, my Lady.  I am very aware of the slave protocols.”
        Merithral slapped Faerín so hard it whipped her fair head back, black hair trying to cover the shame that crossed her face.  “You will not talk to me that way, do you understand?  Who do you think you are?”
        “I am Faerín, daughter of Man and Wood.”
        Silence ensued as the Lady gave her slave a hard look.  “You are indeed fortunate tonight, young Faerín,” she shoved the girl out of her room.  “I do not punish any of my slaves younger than twelve cycles.”
        “Then I regret to inform my Lady that I am nearly fourteen cycles old.”    
        “Leave my sight immediately!” The elf roared, voice cracking slightly.  
        “By my Lady’s command,” Faerín darted off towards the kitchen, pausing a moment to listen to the loud sobs coming from Merithral’s room.  What a strange woman….            

        “Crying, you say?” Evenne pursed her lips.  “That is most unusual indeed.”
        “She just started sobbing and told me to get out!  I mean, I know I got a little blood on her robe but she said to leave it and… and I do not understand why I feel so bad for her, Evenne!”
        “Go help your brother cook those herbs into the meat,” she playfully swatted at Faerín.  “Quickly!  The guests are arriving soon.”
        “Guests?”
        “Oh, yes.  There is to be a great feast tonight!” Evenne chuckled as the half-elf’s eyes lit up.
        “That means…?”
        “Yes, child,” she pushed her towards the large pot Raanmir was stirring.  “You can have as much of the leftovers as your poor stomach can handle.”
        Evenne watched as the girl bounded over to her brother, waiting until both were preoccupied to open the letter.  No…!
        “Kids?”
        “Yes, Evenne?” The both looked back at her.
        “We need to talk after the banquet, okay?”  She came up and hugged both of them.  “If I am not here when you come back from serving the guests, go to Lady Merithral, okay?”
        “But, why?”  What’s going on?  Raanmir searched Evenne’s eyes and found only sadness.  
        “You will see, my dear ones.  Now, let us set the banquet hall,” she pointed towards the fine china cabinet.  “Please hurry, there is not much time left before the banquet starts.”
        “As you wish, Evenne,” Raanmir snatched his sister away before she could ask any questions.
        “Hey!  What are you doing?  Evenne is acting strange and I want to know why,” she yanked her arm free, giving him a pouting face.  “Why did you do that?”
        “Because Evenne has too much on her plate right now.  Asking questions will only further the load on her mind and I love her too much to do that.  Do you not agree?”
        One look at the haggard old maid and Faerín nodded.  “Fine, but I want your promise that we will find out what is going on.  I feel deception is common here.”
        Grunting his agreement, Raanmir handed her a handful of elaborate, blue flowers swirling across very beautiful china.  
        Nearly dropping it, she waddled out the large swinging door and into the banquet hall.  The large room looked like it had sprung to life out of a painting.  The ceiling told of ancient myths, elves of skill and strength, and legends of the Wood as large, polished columns comprised of the finest marble in the land jutted up to support the great masterpiece, making Faerín feel small and insignificant under its mighty gaze. I wonder what life would have been like if I had been a full-blooded elf eating in this hallowed place?
        “Slave!”
        Faerín jumped and sent the china crashing to the marble floor, heart panicking as shards landed around her feet.  
        A hard hand sent her careening to the ground as Lord Tavarín’s hard-tipped boot kicked her in the stomach.  “You fool!  That was our finest china!  Do you know how much it cost to get that imported here?  That china was worth more than your life!” He continued kicking, ignoring the blood that spilled out of her mouth.             
        “Please… my Lord—”
        “Silence!” The blow picked her off the ground and tossed her towards the kitchen doors, limp and unconscious.  
        “My Lord!” Evenne screamed as she rushed out of the kitchen, Raanmir running from behind her to Faerín.  
        “If you value your hands do not touch her, boy,” the nobleman kicked pieces of shattered china towards them as Evenne ran up to him and fell to her knees, porcelain shards cracking loudly under her weight.
        “Please, my Lord, have mercy on the child.  It was I who told her to take them out here, so I will take her punishment,” she placed her head on Tavarín’s bloody boot and kissed it, “if you show the girl grace.”
        “Grace?  Grace, Evenne?” He put his foot on her shoulder and shoved, groans reverberating around the hall.  “I have showed these bastards grace since they were brought into this world!  How much mercy do you and your mistress—oh yes, I know you serve her wishes still—ask of me?  These children are not mine and yet she expects me to show them mercy?” He bellowed loudly, wild eyes flashing as he scoffed.  “No, I will show no more mercy.”

Next Part _{coming soon} | The Prologue