Sylvie fluttered her eyes open; the sun was just beginning to rise. Where am I? She was in the arms of a man speaking an almost perfect Germanish to an elf servant. Everything seemed a bit hazy in the moment and the back of her head was throbbing. She watched the little elf answer “Ja, natürlich,” and go running inside a massive farmhouse.

Alaric looked down at the woman in his arms; she had just awakened but looked confused. “Do not be scared, my name is Alaric, I will not let any harm come to you, I have just asked the nice lady over there to grab a clean garment for you.”

Sylvie inhaled a deep breath, memories from just an hour earlier felt like a lifetime ago. She quickly reached down for her breasts, and saw with relief that she was completely covered in the young man’s white robe.

He tried to clarify, “I have to bring you to the dungeons, but don’t worry I have already sent a pigeon to inform your father. We will get you out of here before Colonel Rojel can blink an eye, ok? I need you to trust me.”

She attempted to struggle out of his arms, but he held on tight. The young elf returned and in an accented tongue said, “Here my lady, it is not much, but it is the best we can do.”

Sylvie held the thin purple garment out. It looked old but it was clean and well taken care of. It is probably her finest dress she thought.

Syvlie finally recognized where they were. It was Lord Stronghearth’s estate. He was in charge of governing Sweet Meadows, and was quite popular. He made everyone work hard, but paid well, and took care of his people.

“Thank you,” Sylvie said bowing her head down. “I will not forget your kindness”.

Alaric allowed her to hop down from the horse, and covered his eyes as the young elf helped Sylvie put the gown on.

Sylvie’s eyes darted back and forth looking for an escape route. But the only open path led directly into Stronghearth’s house.

“Don’t even think about,” Alaric said. He looked very serious, but Sylvie could see a spark of a smile in his eyes.

Alaric turned his attention to the elf, “Thank you Sonoma, here are two scaz, I will visit you guys again soon.”

Sonoma couldn’t believe it; the two gold coins were equal to one month’s pay. “Thank you, thank you. It is an honour to give Sylvie my mother’s dress. She would have been proud.”

Sylvie looked up and down thinking there must be something on her giving her identity away, “How do you know who I am?”

Sonoma briefly smiled while backing towards her house, she then replied, “Everyone, at least all true elves, recognize those eyes. You are one of Celeste and Fergus’ daughters.” Sonoma switched back to Germanish, “Now please, Sir Alaric, you must go, I don’t want the Legionnaires giving Lord Stronghearth any problems.”

“You are correct, she needs to be in the dungeon before the sun comes all the way up or we will all have bigger problems,” he waved goodbye to Sonoma.

Alaric reached his hand down to Sylvie. She even looks beautiful in a servant’s dress he thought while pulling her up.

She could feel his heart beating hard on her back. He reached his arms around the front of her. Even though the dawn air was always crisp, she felt warmth spreading towards her. She was grateful he couldn’t see her face because she was sure she was blushing. He gently squeezed his horse to head towards the dungeons.

As they were riding, Sylvie had a million questions running through her mind. She blurted out, “Since when does a Legionnaire speak with the elves? Why are you trying to help me?”.

“Not all of the Legionnaires are bad, my lady. And I knew quite a lot of elves when I was smaller. Someone saved my life back then. But that is a story for a different time…. You Musclewood sisters always seem to be present when trouble arises,” he laughed thinking of the Colonel’s face when Sylvie shoot an arrow through his hat. He continued, “I lent your sister, Avery, my boat yesterday. Mother of Gods that already feels like a harvest season ago.”

Sylvie was quiet, pondering all he just said. “Aye, you have a fine boat, Sir Alaric”.

“Please, call me Alaric.”

“As you like, Alaric”.

They had reached the dungeon entrance under the city’s modest castle. Two heavily armed guards were securing the door.

“Captain Alaric, we have orders to take her from here,” one of them shouted.

“Help the lady down from the horse, I will not leave until I see her escorted safely into her cell”.

“Aye, sir,” answered the other.

Alaric jumped down from the horse, and put on a very formal face, “Come, Lady Musclewood, you have one of the better cells. Many in the Legion are very thankful to the fine arms your father provides us with.”

The guards looked at one another and then nodded in agreement.

Alaric offered her his arm, which she accepted, and led her through the dungeon. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as she expected. Each cell had a small window, which currently had the sunrise streaming through it. The cell was bare besides a small pot in the corner, a drinking cup, and a straw bed. Sylvie looked relieved at the bed; she hadn’t had time to realize how exhausted she was.

She stood behind the bars, and watched him fix the lock. She reached for his hand, “Thank you, I know you have already done a lot for me”.

He squeezed her hand back and nodded, “It was the right thing to do; I will be back as soon as I’m able.”

Alaric left with the guards. Sylvie’s whole body ached from the battle. She began daydreaming about how nice a hot bath would feel right now when she saw a little boy looking just like Larkin, an elf woman, and a little girl watching her from their cell.

Sylvie looked down the corridor, not seeing any guards, she spoke out “Hey, hey, are you Larkin’s wife”.

The woman’s head snapped up but she didn’t answer. Sylvie saw she had on a ripped dirty dress and dried blood around her lip.

Sylvie tried again. “I knew your husband; I will help you.”

The woman only shook her head. The little boy stood up, “What is of Papa? Is he all right? The bad red-faced man comes in the evening and hurts mother.”

The woman stood up, and ushered her children to stand behind her. “Shhh shhh,” was all she said.

The boy ran around his mother’s side, “Mama, she knows father. She said she will help us.”

Sylvie winced; she didn’t know how she would say it. “Your father…” her voice trembled and she tried to clear her throat, “your father unfortunately passed away. He died a very brave man. He saved many people from dangerous orcs.”

The little girl began to cry, and the mother glared at Sylvie and hissed, “They have been through enough.” The mother had known this news would come. She knew it the second they had been brought to the dungeons.

But the boy was curious, “Are you saying an orc killed Father? If father died killing many orcs, why are we in this cell?”

Sylvie cringed, “What is your name?”

“My name is Levent, my lady. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“Levent, you are a smart boy, I do not have the answers yet to those questions. But two things I will promise you. One, your father fought very bravely, and no matter what anyone tells you, you must be proud of him. Two, I don’t care what it costs, I will get you and your family out of that cell.”

The little boy watched her very carefully; she paused and then added, “Levent, I am very tired though. Yesterday was a long day. To get your family out, I am going to first need to rest. And I need you and your family to rest too, ok?”

The mother pulled Levent over to her, and sat down. The little girl was no longer crying but softly whimpering. Both children laid their head in their mother’s lap and she began to softly sing an old Elven lullaby. Sylvie knew the song from her own mother singing it to her.

Sylvie turned her back towards them as tears rolled down her face. You cannot cry Sylvie. What did Auntie Mabel always say? ‘You are allowed to cry, sometimes we must cry, but know tears don’t solve anything.’ She closed her eyes and began to daydream how she would kill Colonel Rojel instead.