Chapter Text
I knock on the door. Someone rustles around inside before opening it. I stare into the face of my enemy before saying, “help,” and collapsing into his arms. I open my eyes and look around. I'm in a small room with a bookshelf on the right and a chair right beside the bed. I sit up and immediately feel a pain in my side. I look down and lift up the bottom of my bloodstained shirt. There is a bandage wrapped around my abdomen concealing how bad the wound is. I stand up and open the door. As I walk into the kitchen I see my enemy making something over the fire. I stand there for a minute before he turns around. “Oh you're awake. I was wondering when I could finally be rid of you.”
“If you wanted me gone, why did you help me in the first place?”
“Just because I don't like you doesn't mean I'm going to turn away someone in need. Now are you going to leave or do you need help with that too?”
“I think I can manage,” I say, heading towards the door. Before I can make it my vision goes blurry and I trip over my feet. I stay on my stomach for a second before rolling onto my back. My enemy walks over and stands over me. “Hm, I guess you'll have to stay longer.” He reaches out a hand.
“I'm just as happy about it as you are,” I say, grabbing his hand. He pulls me up and heads back over to the stove. “You want some food? I imagine you don't have any energy after losing all that blood, especially since you almost just fainted.”
“I did not almost faint. But food would be nice, thank you.”
He grabs two bowls and fills them up with soup. He sets the bowls down on the table and gestures for me to sit. I look in the bowl. Inside there is a purple liquid with bits of vegetables floating. “What is this?” I say, trying not to scrunch my nose at the dirt smell.
“You're, what, almost 250 years old and you've never had coenfidh soup?”
“Coen-what soup?”
“Coenfidh, it's a type of root vegetable. Very nutritious too, should have you out of here as quickly as possible.” He takes a sip.
“You really want me out of here don't you?”
He sets down his bowl and stares at it for a second. “Do you remember what elves without any animal traits look like?”
I think for a second. “They have pointy ears and bright eyes, why are you asking? Shouldn't you know, I mean you never killed anything.”
He looks straight up at me and pulls his hair back to reveal his ears. It takes me a second to realize that they are round, like a humans, and when I look at his eyes I notice that they are a dull green, and not like the bright emerald from when we were kids.
“What? When did that happen?”
“When you snitched and the army came looking for me. They said I could kill an animal with strong traits to help me survive and when I refused they put me in the war anyways. The first thing I killed was a human, and the second and the third. I had killed so many people that I lost sight of who I was. It took me years to remember the person I was before, and even longer to stop blaming myself for what happened.”
“How, how long before you remembered?”
“80 years, almost as long as I was in the war. I still have their blood on my hands, but I don't hate myself for it any more.”
“80 years, so when I saw you, after the war…”
“Yes, I hated you and what you had made me do. All those things I said, and what I tried to do was me trying to put my anger somewhere.”
“So why are you telling me now? You expect me to feel bad about what I did, to feel bad about trying to kill you because you hated yourself? Everything I did was self defense, but your only excuse was you felt bad for killing people. Well guess what! I killed people too, I watched people die too! You’re. Not. Special.”
He stares at me, searching my face. “What happened to you, you used to be a good person.”
“I grew up! I grew up and learned that the world isn't all rainbows and cupcakes! But you're still living in that fucking fantasy!”
“If anyone’s living in a fantasy it’s you. You believe that you have a right to be mad at everyone and everything because you killed people. You’re trying to justify your anger at yourself by saying you’re like this because you saw people die. But you’re the one that killed them, you're the one that put yourself in this spot, so don't get angry at me because you're angry at yourself. And if you're going to be disrespectful I would suggest you get out before I make you.” His voice stays calm and even, only giving a hint of emotion at the end.
I stand up abruptly, jolting the table and spilling some of my soup. I open my mouth but no words come out. Eventually I decide to say nothing and storm out of the cabin.