Darkthorn’s Blog

Julia drifted off to sleep, still tormented in her dreams. She ran, her legs carrying her quickly though the forest. Suddenly she tripped and fell, breathing heavily. Escape. She couldn’t escape. She crawled towards the base of a tree, noticing that her skin was beginning to weep blood from the scratches on her arms. She couldn’t remember opening the cuts. She couldn’t remember what she was running from. Maybe it would be better to give in, give up, accept whatever was chasing her. She could hear something crashing closer, amplified in the stillness.

Julia woke to Ishton looking down on her. She cut off her scream before it started out of her mouth, making it into a kind of whimper, before realizing how rude it was.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, “Bad dreams.”

It occurred to her that the elf was probably sensitive to her thought patterns, and she tried to still her racing heart. As her breathing slowed, the memory of the dream returned. She wondered why she had had that particular dream again.

“Calm, June,” said Ishton, “All will be alright. You are healing well, physically. The mental scars may take longer to fade.”

Ishton looked away from the tears streaming down Julia’s face uncomfortably. He could indeed feel her distress, and it disturbed him. No creature this young should have suffered so much. He wondered what could be done. He was no mind-healer, merely one of the body. Perhaps Blackmain would know of another of his kindred that could assist him. The physical rape that Julia had undergone would be hard enough to overcome, yet alone the deep-seated issues that were present. Julia’s tears stopped suddenly, her face once again only reflecting the discomfort the burns were causing. Ishton felt things settling, and a prickly mask dropped over her thoughts. He wondered how this could be, most humans, unless naturally protected were wide open to his unconscious probe. He focused, trying to bring her back, but soon realized that this was ineffectual. She was remarkable, similar to Blackmain, but without the control, who had taught her?

Her well-worn hands dictated that she was working class, but this didn’t sit congruously with the situation that Blackmain had found her in. What woman would deserve such torture at the hand of Cimon? Ishton didn’t understand humans and their stupid classification system. All men and women were equal, no generals. Foremost, no one had the right to hurt another. If June had provoked it however, that was her free-willed right. If she wished to hurt herself, that was her choice.

Julia looked up at Ishton, “Thank you for your concern, but all will be well.” She had things back under control, she wouldn’t let go this time.

Blackmain appeared in the doorframe, his thin form barely making a chink in the light. It stuck Julia how tense he seemed, considering how safe the two had proclaimed the house to be.

“What’s wrong, friend?” Blackmain asked Ishton.

Ishton glanced over to Blackmain, before refocusing on Julia. “She is healing well. Her system is hardy. You guard her now, she is discomfited by my presence.”

Blackmain frowned at Julia, who quailed under his fierce gaze. “He will not harm you. We would not harm one,” he paused and Julia shrank back further, “one of your beauty.”

Julia started. These men thought she was beautiful. But how? The King had not found her attractive, and the servants had whispered and gossiped behind their hands when she had passed them. She had been told all her life that she was too thin for traditional beauty. Perhaps elves had a different view of beauty. Still, it would do no harm to stay quiet. No need to raise suspicion about her heritage.