Warrior Of Light [Complete/Editing]

Chapter Three - Part Two

Several she-elves lounged about the simple room. They were scantily clothed, revealing every feminine curve. Vínmorr forced himself to look away.

Prochk, who had already started drinking from a new flagon, sauntered toward the she-elves. He bowed with a grand flourish.

"Ah, my ladies! What a pleasure it is to see you here, looking so splendid."

They giggled in response. Two of them rose to embrace Kherr Prochk and led him back to their seats. He revelled in their attention, making bawdy jests and laughing.

"Come." Movv Khaia placed a hand on Vínmorr's shoulder. "Take your pick."

Movv Khaia swept a hand outward, gesturing to the other two she-elves. Vínmorr glanced up, but barely allowed his gaze to rest on them. The one on the left looked horrified, as if the thought of spending a night with Vínmorr would be a form of punishment.

"I would prefer to return to my own bed."

"It's already dark. Stay, enjoy some company."

"Listen to him, my friend. I've tried tellin' you, life is more than your infernal beasts and studies. Live a little, Vínmorr. These she-elves know what they're about; they'll treat ya to a good time."

"You're drunk."

"You're missin' so much, Vín." Prochk rose from the chair, a subtle sway making him shuffle to the right. Once steady, he moved to the other two she-elves. "Right, my dears? Show him what he's been missing."

They shrank back. The kherr, however, laughed and grabbed one of the she-elves by the wrist. He dragged her across the short distance and shoved her against Vínmorr. The elandhin steadied the female lest she should fall, and took a step back to regain distance.

Prochk released a grating belt of laughter, which did little to ease Vínmorr's annoyance. Meanwhile, Movv Khaia watched on, revelling in his discomfort.

"Am I now permitted to leave?"

"Very well, you may abstain from the revelry. But I insist you stay here. I'll have a room prepared for you."

Vínmorr had already pushed the limits by refusing Movv Khaia's gift. It would be of no benefit to anger him before they were even sent to the battlefields. "You have my thanks. First, I'll tend my mount."

Movv Khaia smiled, a cold and calculated expression void of joy or humour. "Of course. One should care for his beast, that it may serve him all the better."

Vínmorr bowed – revealing none of the seething rage stirring within him – and left the room. The Elandhin knew the implication behind Khaia's words; he was no more than a beast to be used by its master. There was a warning in the movv's words, too: Vínmorr should be careful of his actions or else be eliminated.

Vínmorr purchased meat from the tavern and returned to Shígra, who was lying exactly where he had left her. She wiggled in excitement. Whether it was from seeing him or the rotting meat in his hand, he did not know.

He fed and sat with her for a while, enjoying the peace and solitude of the night after the chaos of the tavern.

A she-elf's scream and a chorus of laughter drifted from the shuttered windows. The lerecht snored beside him. With a final sigh, Vínmorr stood, stretched his aching back, and returned to the oppressive tavern.

His room was at the end of the hall, as far from any other patrons without being holed up in the single stall at the back of the building. Vínmorr shut the door behind him, leaning against its hard surface.