“Well little one, can you understand me?”
Alberto didn’t reach outwardly. He didn’t know if elves could hear little heartbeats, but his had been going crazy since she had picked him up, so perhaps it didn’t matter. He stared forward, gazing at her soft lips.
“Someone already told me that you’ve been telling the other humans what I’m saying in elven, if you don’t answer me, there’s going to be consequences.”
He briefly wondered who it might have been, then decided it didn’t matter. Cithrel stood back up to her impressive height, looking down inquisitively at the little human in the table, before very slowly reaching out with her finger.
“If you don’t want me to crush you, just tell me to stop in elven.”
Alberto watched her pointer finger approaching. It was an odd thing with the elves. In the brief moments of lucidity where he was alone with other humans, he hated them. Despised them. Fantasied about becoming a plague, a force of nature that could kill them by the thousands. But all that evaporated as soon as Cithrel entered the room. Replaced by fear.
“Almost out of time, little one.”
And awe.
Her dainty finger was almost level with him now, he quickly daring into action, kissing it, licking it, feverishly showing his unquestionable servility to the beautiful pillar that slowly continued further. He was forced onto his back as it kept going, until it effortlessly crushed his arm into an unrecognizable mess.
“Aaaah! Gods! Oh gods!” He tried to pick himself up using the arm that was no longer existent, 31 years of having an arm had built up some habits that were hard to break. He collapsed on his face into the bloody mess, hyperventilating as tried to understand what was going on.
“You better tell me, your head is next.” Cithrel cooed, gently nudging him back onto his back, and positioning the pad of her finger against his face. In spite of himself, in spite of not being able to process what was happening, he began to kiss the deadly appendage. There was a moment of silence, and then…
“Hmhm…hahaha. Oh you’re coming along nicely.” Cithrel’s warm laughter rang out around him, and with a snap of her fingers, his arm slowly began pulling itself back together, until it was as good as new. Her finger pulled away from his face.
“Now little one,” he began to relax a bit as she switched to common. “That was a punishment for lying to your little friends about understanding elven. It’s not proper to spread rumors. But I’ll forgive you, you’ve become quite good at understanding your place. Do you understand?”
“Yes, yes, thank you! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” His words weren’t just pathetic pleas for mercy. The idea that he was causing trouble, spreading rumors, making things harder for Cithrel, it seemed wrong. She had given him forgiveness so quickly, making him feel even worse for having deceived her, but he knew he had to keep his secret.
“Now, let’s get you back to the others.” Nonchalantly plucking him up from the table and carrying him back into the room with the others. She sit him down inside the barrier, the cage doors magically swung open again.
Cithrel’s sing song voice addressed the room. “Alright everyone, I know this little one has been spreading rumors about understanding elven, and how there’s going to be troops coming here to take the humans away or some such nonsense. Now little one, can you tell them the truth?”
Alberto nervously looked at his compatriots as they filed out of the cage and stared attentively at him. “Um…I…” he began to scratch his hair, noticing with a kind of grim amusement that he was doing it with the arm that he had briefly been without.
“Go ahead, it’s important to own up to our mistakes.” Cithrel said soothingly.
“I lied…I can’t speak elven…I just wanted everyone to feel better…” The expressions on the humans remained subdued, were they surprised? Did they believe him? It was hard to say.
“Now that’s better, I think this has taken up enough of your education, let’s get back to work!” Cithrel patronizingly clapped her hands together slightly and sat down on her chair, stretching out her legs. She no longer had to take her sandals off, her “students” would figure that out. Soon tiny hands were working diligently on unfastening leather straps, and working together to pull the heft of her dainty shoe. When it finally fell off her foot, she let out a soft sigh, stretching out her toes as she felt the pleasing sensation of tiny humans crawling up and kneading her feet. She glanced down at the group, singling out Alberto.
“Not you, my little liar. You won’t get to touch my feet this morning, go clean the stains from my sandals with your tongue.” Alberto’s face burned with shame as he crawled away, climbing onto the flat expanse of her leather sandal, and began lick at the slight sweat stains on the sole like he was some kind of insect.
Overall, he had gotten out of this pretty lightly.
-
Cithrel had just left for the day. Everyone began to prepare for sleep. They hadn’t been fed since they arrived, but it seemed as if Cithrel’s feet were coated in some kind of thin film, maybe it was a special bath that kept them alive. Alberto was dreading talking to Lucrezia that night, but was surprised when private Dante approached him instead. The young man looked like he had something on his mind.
“Um…sir, were you really lying about understanding elven?” He wasn’t making eye contact, as if he was afraid of Alberto.
“I’ve told a lot of lies Dante. You don’t need to call me sir, we’re all just pets here.”
For a moment neither man said anything.
“Sir, you looked out for me when I first joined…there was a lot I didn’t know. I never knew my dad…so I just wanted to let you know…”
“Dante, things aren’t the same. Half of us died on that battle field. Died when we were shrunk. There’s only two choices left for any of us. We die completely, or live as that remaining half, as an animal. It’s dangerous to believe anything else.”
“…which is the right choice?”
Alberto’s expression softened a bit. “That’s up to you. Some would say it’s better to die with honor. I certainly don’t expect much good to come out of what’s left of my life. But if I die now, it’s guaranteed nothing more will come of my life.”
Dante continued to look at the ground, it seemed like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t.
“It’s fine Dante, it’s not your fault you told her I said could understand elven.”
The young man’s blue eyes widened in shock. “I, how did you know?”
“You’re an honest guy. It’s obvious. Just look out for yourself now, okay? Don’t feel guilty about breaking, we’re all broken here. Now get some rest, she’ll be back soon tomorrow.”
Dante nodded slightly, and sheepishly walked away.
-
The days actually got easier. Cithrel gradually stopped punishing them at all as they took to their work of caring for her feet whenever she walked by. They quickly learned how to help her put on jewelry, the best places to knead their little hands into her soles, dealing with being stepped on while under a protection charm and how to strap or unstrap her sandals. She acted so proud of them, almost like a mother. Well, she was an elf, she was probably older than any of their mothers. They gradually talked less and less to one another. The periods of sleep got shorter, Cithrel seemed to always be nearby. In some ways it was a blessing really. They were always hungry, when Cithrel walked in they found themselves drooling uncontrollably, waiting for her to take off her sandals, so they could finally consume something. She was the only beautiful thing left for them. They were in a drab stone room, they themselves were increasingly lean, increasingly hairy. She was like an angel descending into the den of the unclean. Finally, it was time for their graduation.
They stood in a line on the table, patiently waiting their turn. Alberto waited with baited breath, he was next.
“Alright, next!”
Alberto practically sprung forward. He stood in front of the towering elf, watching as she held out the little metal twig as she had with the others.
“Repeat after me little one, I shall serve Elsira till my dying day.”
It seemed less an oath of loyalty and more a statement of fact.
“I shall serve Elsira till my dying day.” Cithrel’s eyes lit up as he spoke, the same way they had lit up for the nine people that had gone before him.
“Excellent! You are now officially a human of the Priscille trading company!” She pressed the little twig against his chest, muttering an incantation. The tip grew white hot, and Alberto clenched his mouth shut as the seal of the Priscille trademark was burned into his chest. She pulled the brand away and smiled gently.
“T-thank you.” Alberto forced out, and stumbled to the back of the line.
The branding ceremony was followed by Cithrel placing a large plate of fresh cut fruit on the ground, then placing the humans down around it. They cautiously looked up to her, and she nodded her approval. Alberto had never tasted anything so good, even the simple bits of apple and fig were awakening tastes he had forgotten existed. He greedily stuffed his mouth with fruit until no more would fit, then struggled to swallow. The entire group made short work of the plate, ravenously consuming it. After they had finished, Cithrel cleared her throat.
“Now that you’ve all graduated, you will get the honor of serving Priscille trading company customers. They are powerful elves who deserve your utmost attention and respect, as with all elves. I’m so proud of you all, I just know you’ll do well. But please, don’t do your best just because you want to make me proud, do it for yourselves! You see, whatever function you attend, that will be your only chance! If you aren’t taken by a customer, I’m afraid you’ll be thrown out after the festivities are over. So please, don’t let our time together be a waste, show them how amazing humans can be!” Despite the gravity of her words, Cithrel spoke optimistically. For the former mercenaries who had been under her care that week, the fact she believed in them gave them hope, hope they would survive this next ordeal. Each of them had their reasons.
Lucrezia stubbornly refused to give up hope that someone would save her.
Marte wanted to live for himself, regardless of what that would take.
Dante wanted to live out his choice.
And Alberto…
-
As a child, Alberto had dealt with his father, an addict who frequently took out his frustrations on Alberto. His mother was no help, a meek, compliant woman who seemed more of a maid than a matron. The physical abuse was one thing, but his father would constantly berate him, call him worthless. His father would constantly make up slights, explain to the young boy how he was worthless, damned to the deepest layer of hell. That everything he had done was unforgivable. And as a little boy, he had believed it.
His outlook began to change when he was granted a scholarship by the governor’s office and permitted to study in the University, he had begun to feel like he had worth, like he was going to change the future. He removed himself from that childhood outlook of misery in that burnt out slum.
Unforgivable.
Thinking back on everything that had happened, Alberto realized that it had all been fate. Going to university was simply a means of improving his standing for his future military post, and of teaching him elven, the language that would be of chief importance for whatever remained of his life. Joining the military was the means of getting this amazing chance at serving not just an elf, but an elf that even other elves thought was truly important. Even thinking about it now, he was filled with anticipation, with lust for that unknown higher being.
Unforgivable.
There was just one thing that bothered Alberto. It was what the elven soldier had said to him and the other captives that first night. That she realized that she should not be mad at them, because they hadn’t understood what they had done. It was terrible to remember, that he had helped plan an ambush for the elves. He had fired arrows into the smoke, hoping to kill more elves. Maybe he had killed one, by his own hand.
Unforgivable.
Cithrel knew it as well, knew that he had fought against them, knew that elves had died. But she had forgiven them as well. She forgave him again for spreading rumors, and making her work harder to educate them. She had taught him the error of his ways. She had given him this opportunity to serve masters beyond peer. He now had the chance to be at the feet of the closest thing to a god he was ever likely to encounter. He found himself tearing up at the thought of it, the idea that such a thing was within his grasp. In spite of his worthlessness, his corruption, he wanted to live, to serve at the feet of his betters. That should have been enough, that should have been the most he could hope for. But, Alberto had one other wish, a terrible wish, the one thing that bothered him.
Unforgivable.
It was a wish that he would never speak aloud. A wish that no creature should have. But he was corrupted, he was sinful. It was a wish that he could not accomplish on his own, a wish that could only happen by luck. He wondered if it was really fate that had brought him here, had let him understand how exquisite elves were. Their lives were immortal, their words were song, their beauty beyond compare. He could be forgiven for fighting against them, he had not known, he could be forgiven for his former ignorance. Now the elves had taught him. Now he knew his wish.
To be responsible for the death of an elf, knowing full well the weight of that sin.
To end that beautiful immortal spark. To cause grief in the halls of these divine creatures. It was the one, singular selfish desire that burned within the husk of the man that he had once been. It was not for revenge. It was not for anger. He held no anger towards the elves, they were in the right, they always had been. He simply wanted to truly become what he was always meant to be.
Unforgivable.
Unforgivable.
Unforgivable.