EPISODE 14 — LOSS

I lean forward, peering past Dorcha. I want to see him. The one who killed him. There. I've never seen that elf before. And the sight of him is… nauseating. He's shorter than the others I've met. His eyes are a sick, bile-yellow, made even sharper by the ashen gray of his skin—like a rat's. His hair looks like a tangled bush of thorns. Greasy. Dull white. Filthy. His face is carved with scars, his body heavy, slack. Not agile. Not refined. How did someone like this overpower a warrior like Dorcha? That— What does he think he's doing now with that burning vine, bristling with barbs, clenched in his hands?! He wouldn't dare keep going. Not on his body. He stares at Dorcha. Cruel. Satisfied. A shiver runs through me. "He won't… come… save you," he says, savoring every word. "By now… she'll…