"The Feral Ones" (working title)

First sent (and completed) original story. Rejected, but hey, it's a start.

The elf stood on the grassy hill, staring out at the edifices of the human city that had replaced her home ages ago. It was summer, but she did not revel, frolic, or relax in the midday sun. She had seen this before, but she could only look with complete anguish. The fields, where the humans farmed the land until the soil became barren, consisted of only a couple of trees, bent and twisted from the constant meddling of the humans and their children, playing on them with their swings, or chopping parts of it off for firewood.

She stared at her longsword. She'd just chop the trees down and end their suffering. The humans wouldn't miss them. They'd extend their agendas, spreading the stink of their cities all the way to the few remaining forests. Then those trees would wither and die, but not before they chop them down and use the wood to further the growth of their cities. They'd kill any of her people they met, and because of the audacity of the humans, her people would not be able to retaliate. Her people would merely go deeper and deeper into the wood, until the last of the forest became no more, and then they would be extinct.

She kneeled down and pressed her hands on the hard earth. Even the soil was dying, and the growth of civilization only accelerated its decay - the once-forests would then be a barren desert. Then how would the humans survive? Even the road - hard brown-yellow dirt with no evidence of growth - was a tocsin of the impending destruction of all life. The city itself was of no help. The monochromatic grays of the stone and concrete buildings, walls, and castle contrasted with both grass and sky so much that her eyes began to ache. The few wooden buildings - of dead wood - were analogous to skinning an animal and stealing its fur for a coat.

There was little to do for now. If the elf stayed where she was, a human might find her and probably kill her. Even the commoners would draw scythes, pitchforks, and sickles the moment they noticed her pointed ears and finely chiseled face. Her green plate armor and helmet were very light and offered great protection against such humans, but the elders told her never to retaliate, but to help the humans live their life while respecting others' lives.

But humans won't learn. She'd fight them, but she was one elf, and she'd tire if she wielded her blade against so many humans. She walked along the path away from the city and made her way to the forest.

Then she heard someone behind her shout. The elf instantly knew that it was a bunch of humans. They're after me, the elf thought. She cocked her head back, and saw a few of the ugly round-ears on horseback charge toward her. She couldn't tell what exactly they were, but she cursed to herself for foolishly walking along human territory in broad daylight.

She pulled her sword halfway out of her scabbard, then wavered a little in her intention of drawing it. But as the horses galloped closer, she finally returned her weapon on her side, and decided to run. In spite of her armor, she effortlessly ran full tilt away from the charging horses, easily closing the distance between herself and the virgin forest.

The elf woman continued her long run through brush and into the younger wood. Soon enough, she slowed her pace, and her ears felt only the crunch of the grass she had trampled in her escape. She looked back and saw no trace of her pursuers. Then she looked at the trail and decided to walk the remainder of the way, her body beginning to embrace the safety of the elves' home.

After breathing a sigh of relief, she wiped the sweat off her brow and licked her lips. She'd go for a swim at the nearest pond, but she had to meet with her kin in the darker region of the wood as soon as possible. She heard nothing of the pursuing cavalry. All there was to do was to take the route to the enclave under one of the great trees in the center of the forest, where she hoped that she would be safe, at least for a few days.

She passed by a pond after a couple hours. She stopped to listen to the sounds of nature in the more isolated region of the forest, but heard so little of the voices of the animals. Even the sky was calm - there seemed to be a lack of any action around the wood. The elf only hoped that it wasn't an omen of things to come. Morosely, she sat on one of the dead logs just away from the lip of the pond to clear her mind.

She looked down at the pond, and saw a reflection of the sky and the forest. Then a gust of wind moved the water, making the world reflected in it - trees, clouds and sky - seem to explode in cataclysmic ripples, then calmly reassemble itself. She looked to the far bank. Two elf children dug through the leaves of a nearby tree for some fruit - both boy and girl desperately searched for the sustenance to preserve her people's existence. They looked thinly, hungry, and both were equipped with sword and bow as a measure of defense. She only hoped that their parents weren't killed. She had to assert her presence to the orphaned elves, and waved and greeted the two.

Their mother seemed to materialize out of her hiding grove of bushes. She looked feral, with ripped-up leather armor covering much of her body, and armed with bows and spears, intertwining maternity with ferocity. She had scars and green paint on her arms, and that beautiful face had a scar from the right eyebrow all the way to near her left lip.

"Leave, elf sister… we are safe in this deep wood."

The elf nodded, but silently hoped she'd hide her children better under the canopy of trees in the near future. She continued watching the family gather their food and go back to their hiding place, their vigilance for any human making the elf feel like a brooding intruder.

After what felt like a half hour, she stood up. She continued through the forest until the trail became nonexistent, and then she made her own trail, being careful to leave much of the brush unadulterated. Thorns, poison ivy, and thistles made up much of the underbrush, but she took careful steps. She was sure that no humans would follow her until they destroy the forest first. She could hear nothing but her own breath and the intermittent sounds of nature; the birds chirping in the upper branches, occasional deer trotting and eating berries, and one stealthy wolf the size of a horse looking for prey. She did not see any unicorns; but then again, they were rare ever since the humans finished

She pressed on until she felt herself one with nature. The trees and the sounds flanked her on all sides, assaulting her senses, and she felt safe; she believed this location the only place in the entire region in which she could not see the end of the forest. Nevertheless, she had to go on. She continued making her own path all the way to one of the large oaks. Under some of the roots stood two of her own kin, two warrior women, their armor consisting of green plate mixed with leaves and vines laden through their entire body, blending with the ferns that shot up from around the tree and its protruding roots. Even their halberds were brown and green with vines wrapped around both blade and shaft, the weapons completing the sentries of Nature.

One of the sentries spoke as the elf neared the tree. "State your name."

"Rulirel Frostleaf," the elf said.

"Pass." The sentries pulled a blanket of roots away, and Rulirel entered the foxhole. The dirt ground could have been dug by a thousand moles or one giant earthworm, but her people dug it to hide and preserve the elven race. She had to crawl, and almost squeeze her way through the tunnel, but it accompanied her thin frame and suggested that no human would attempt to follow.

She knew she entered the main trench of the enclave when she heard a cacophony of voices - mostly women and children - the majority crying in their suffering. Soon, they'd be dead from war or starvation. The protectors died day after day, and soon, no elf will exist but the weak, and soon after that, no elf at all. Many of the males - their husbands, brothers, and sons - fought the humans in a futile endeavor to save their families. Even Rulirel's father and brother died over a decade ago when the humans outnumbered their squad a hundred-to-one. She'd remember it each crying night; she'd think that she'd not be able to do better.

Rulirel had to squat to move in through the sodden doorways. She passed a row of other elf women, protecting their infants and toddlers. They were nearly zombies - half-living, half-dead, their purpose of life merely to sustain the life of their young. Weak-willed by the threat of extinction, they huddled in small warrens dug by the stronger elves, giving bits of food and milk as they waited for death. They were not likely to survive the war, and Rulirel could not bear herself to hear the crying of an elf maiden tortured at the mercy of starvation and disease.

She gave them a look of determination, but they merely huddled away. Rulirel sighed, then pulled the cloth door to the living quarters. She walked up to the group of fifteen warriors - all female - suited in armor and carrying spears similar to the two sentries guarding their tree. One of them wore a silk green vestment over her armor, signifying her status as a handmaiden of the enclave.

"Where's Kara?" Rulirel asked the handmaiden.

"Got her." She put the little bundle into Rulirel's waiting arms. Kara - short for Karanilissa - was born almost two springs ago, and her black hair, deep green eyes, and fair complexities made Rulirel relax and remember the time of their innocence when she was a young girl. But the elves needed every able-bodied male and female adult, and thus Rulirel couldn't spend much time with her child. She never expected Tarylor to return, as he left to search for other kin a month after the birth of the child and hasn't returned since.

After a moment of Rulirel's comfort, Kara began crying. Rulirel then took off a part of her armor on the right side of her chest and pulled down the layers of clothing beneath it. She gave her exposed breast to Kara, and felt her body give the nourishing milk to her progeny.

Kara didn't take long to get her helping of breast milk. Rulirel felt her child begin to doze into sleep, and returned the bundle to the handmaiden. She turned toward the other mothers, and felt inclined to feed their children while she was still quite healthy.

There was no way the war would make Rulirel a great hero, regardless if she lived or died. Like other elf women, she decided to stand up with her brothers - all of them defying the strict ethos that women could not fight.

"You finished?" the handmaiden asked.

"Not yet. I plan to give their children my milk."

"I'd do it myself, as I am childless." The handmaiden placed Kara in her crib and continued. "You are doubly blessed, Rulirel, with that child and your ability to fight! Use both for our people, Rulirel! Don't throw it away while the lesser - myself, as one - can do what you plan to sacrifice yourself for. Sacrifice yourself as a battle-maiden! The weak will be pleased. Kara will be pleased as well, and her health will make her a great warrior! Ruler, possibly."

Rulirel took another look at her daughter. Kara slept very complacently and did not have much of a care for what her destiny - or, the elves' destiny - might be.

She looked at her handmaiden with a sense of helplessness. "Poor Kara. Should I die, what will become of her?"

"Kara? I will make sure she won't wither and die! I'd go far enough to give her my milk should you fall in combat. I'd let her eat my hand when my milk runs out."

Rulirel took the handmaiden's words into mind. She walked around, calming her thoughts. At least if Kara grows in this vindictive world, she'd be no different than the children Rulirel met at the pond. She put her armor back on. She'd pick up the harp and play a tune or two to soothe the elves. Even the poorest elf knew and embraced music, and at least they'd have a smile on their faces during the war.

"Rulirel!"

Rulirel turned around and noticed her commanding officer, a charismatic woman dressed in a mix of plate armor, leaves, vines, and with a smattering of jet black hair. "Imeriah."

"We're ready for the briefing." Imeriah exited to a tunnel in the maze of dirt and roots, and Rulirel followed close by. She had to do some more crawling - thought not as much as she did to enter the elven hideout - but she reached their war room.

The elves' war room was a semi-rectangular room with roots creating the four walls and the ceiling, and a smooth, level dirt floor that held the table, a bunch of chairs, and storage for battle plans, terrain maps, and various weapons and armors. There was a door to a forge, and another to a room where the elves cultivated a couple of roots from the tree beneath them; the wood made high-quality bows, arrows, and spears.

She took the only empty seat as Imeriah began.

"Warriors under Inathirae," Imeriah announced, "at this time, let us pray for the battle-maiden that will give all elves greatness."

Everyone took the long moment of silence.

Inathirae, Rulirel thought, as she closed her eyes and began to meditate. Inathirae and her beliefs felt extremely foreign to Rulirel, at least until she began training with the other girls during her youth. Inathirae was the first battle-maiden of the usually patriarchal elves, and in spite of her ability to take out hundreds of opponents, her male peers often harassed her. But as the recurring wars against the humans, orcs, and goblins continued, and the few elven cities crumbled, the number of battle-maidens began increasing and the number of male warriors began decreasing. The female elves began to gain prestige over the decades, and actually surpassed the males in both quantity and quality. Soon enough, they controlled most of the military, and if they could get the bands of hidden elves together, Rulirel predicted that they would have a good foot on future society.

"All rise," Imeriah announced.

Rulirel placed the beliefs of Inathirae to her heart and broke from her prayer. Then she watched as Imeriah cleared her throat, took out a couple scrolls of plans, and continued. "Warriors… first of all, I'd like to make an announcement. The elves under Ethenylis Gilaeyrr had taken out the humans of Alethor and have them on the run! She has given us a good chance to fight back!"
The humans that chased Rulirel a couple of hours ago were from Alethor. Though a large, civilized nation (by human standards, anyway), they'd perform brutal tactics. Many of them would torture and kill the men, rape the women, and otherwise demoralize the elven race in many ways possible. Rulirel knew so little from her century-and-a-half of her life, but it only made her hate them more.

"Ethenylis? It's about time the Venom Queen and her obscured followers made their move!"

"Well, Rulirel, she sure did it with precision. She killed two hundred men without losing a single fighter. Now, she said that we have to make our attack."

"Attack?" Rulirel moved her lips for a moment, but felt no voice come from her throat. "Make… an attack?"

"Yes, make an attack, Rulirel!" Imeriah said, joyously. "Over the past three nights, and after singing the Song of Nyrria's Creations to my son and daughter on each of those nights, I continuously dreamed of living in a better world. In such, Rulirel… I would actually enjoy some rights, and would have some way of being free from my husband… if only we could fight back!"

"We have never fought back. At least, just enough to keep them away."

"So why have you not fought back, Rulirel?"

Rulirel gaped. "I would… but I am just one elf. I'd inevitably die," she said pessimistically.

"Rulirel!" Imeriah's voice reduced to a whisper. "Look at the dying elves you sacrifice yourself to feed, Rulirel - they are sick! They have so little to lose at such a time. Get the other elves to strike now - I command you!" She slammed her fists on the table on the last word, enough to knock one of the smaller jugs of water on the ground. The shattering sound quickly silenced the other officers.

Rulirel swallowed her hardest in probably a decade, calmed herself down as much as possible, then spoke. "I… I have no choice, High Imeriah. I will fight for you, fight for Kara, and let my blood fertilize the new territories of the elven people."

"Not to worry, girl - they'd easily recognize you in the end!" Imeriah pat Rulirel in the back, and the two joyously laughed with a feeling of obligation for saving the weak. Later, they continued the plans, but they were the same like any other day - hide in the treetops and roots, and kill any intruder. In spite of the surprise from another obscured pack of elven warriors, Rulirel felt herself return back to normal. Perhaps there won't be an attack for a long time. They'd probably starve first.

Rulirel left the war room with plans to hide near the tree and kill any human that comes near, but she also had plans to feed the kids. First, she would feed Kara again, but the handmaiden told that Kara was still fast asleep. So Rulirel entered the warrens with the weakest elves, and was about to remove her armor and tunic, ready to give the youngest and hungriest infants her breasts. The mothers smiled at the supportive sustenance and the first ones quickly offered their kids as Rulirel removed her first strap.

Suddenly, she heard a faint sound of something clopping above her. There were sounds coming from the surface, Rulirel reckoned. Sounds of stone on wood, or wood on wood. Wolves don't do that, and deer and wild horses are too reclusive. But domesticated horses… elves don't domesticate horses. She tiptoed back to the living quarters, arguing whether or not it was an emergency.

Her voice diminished to a whisper. "Humans."

The handmaiden gaped. If Rulirel said it any louder, the thinned mothers would be in a total uproar. The nearby warriors heard her, and exchanged whispers to one another before going silent and listening.

Everyone seemed to hush for a moment.

Then Rulirel heard two screams, apparently from the sentries. The humans are continuing their extermination.

"Watch Kara," Rulirel told the handmaiden. She ran back to the entrance and gave her hastiest crawl back to the outside.

She made it out, and she saw the two guards near two other smaller trees, apparently hiding from someone. She also felt most of the warrior elves follow from behind. She saw the handmaiden holding Kara, and was about to spew every single curse she could think of for risking her child in such a precarious situation, but had to stay silent.

She raised her hand and the elves stayed down, silent. One of the elf women positioned herself in front of the handmaiden and stood her guard. Rulirel moved in closer to the guards as one of them made another ear-piercing scream. She gaped as she leered back at the sight of crimson on their bodies. They already had five or six arrows embedded within them; had it not been for the armor, they would have surely died.

"Humans!" The sentry splashed droplets of blood on Rulirel as she flicked her hand. "Rulirel! Get back in! Our lives are already over!"

Rulirel silently stared at the guards, then gave a long stare at the blood on her armor. She touched it with her finger like a toddler and her first toys, and further touches on the crimson spread it over her finger.

Then she slowly scanned her adversaries. There were probably two dozen of them. The group included the same three that chased Rulirel out of the town. She looked at her bloodied comrades, then back at the humans. Now she only thirsted to fight back! The earth would be pleased with a quick snack of two dozen dead bodies. She pushed the weakened elves aside, and drew her longbow. Two other elf women, now in their battle armor, did the same. They took their positions behind the large tree over the enclave, then drew arrows and aimed.

They fired at the furthest targets, knowing that they would not expect themselves fired upon first. They quickly fell, and Rulirel didn't care if they were conscripts or mere scouts; there was no point in taking any chances. Next came the other targets attempting to get closer and possibly finish off the wounded. The three elves fired angrily at them. Rulirel found that they didn't seem to have bows themselves, but she knew she couldn't risk those who she cares for.

Arrows whizzed by Rulirel, and one of her comrades was hit by one of the shots, the arrow perforating her right bracer and continuing through her forearm. She yelled in utter pain, but she refused to break her rhythm of arrows as she covered Rulirel and shot down her assailant.

Rulirel counted down the number of humans remaining as she moved in, moved out, making her foes expose themselves and otherwise make themselves easy targets for her keen eyes and bow. Her other two comrades did the same, and they probably counted half a dozen dead foes. One dead body rolled toward Rulirel and crumbled in a disheveled heap just a couple feet from the group. She had the urge to draw her sword and chop the round-eared bastard into fertilizer, but merely kicked the corpse away and paid more attention to the live targets.

Then two more humans fell from some shots not from near the enclave. Rulirel wondered where those shots came from - the assailant hit the humans squarely in the back - and she soon found her answer. The mother and her two children entered the fray, gesturing their bows with a sense of ecstasy over their marksmanship.

"Hail! I had to kill five before them," the mother said.

"Get to the enclave!" Rianneth shouted, wildly waving her arm toward the massive tree. The mother heeded, and they scampered toward Rulirel and the enclave. When they reached the enclave, the guards let the mother guard her two children from behind a patch of roots. To their surprise, there was not a single arrow from the humans the entire time.

Rulirel was sure that the humans had no more archers, so she grabbed the two wounded elves and dragged them to her comrades near the enclave. "Watch them," she whispered. She noticed their arrow wounds on their arms, legs, and one in the stomach, but they didn't look to be near death.

Rulirel sized up her remaining foes as they moved in for melee. She gave herself an affirmative nod; thanks to the elves' pernicious accuracy in archery, there were three humans left. Dropping her bow, she drew her twin longswords; she kept her blades in front of her chest, and let one of the humans charge in with his sword raised.

Fool. She stabbed his belly with one of her swords and severed his arm with the other. Blood splattered on the ground as he suffered a quick but painful death. Rulirel then swung both blades at opposite directions toward the other two warriors. She focused her swings toward the throat, where all their body armor couldn't protect from such an attack. It felt too easy slicing their delicate throats, swords sinking through the windpipes and jugular veins, killing them instantly.

The last two foes didn't drop until a moment after Rulirel sheathed her blades.

"That… that looked easy," the handmaiden said. "I mean, why be in endless talks and weaken ourselves when we could, well… butcher them?"

Rulirel let the blood pool around her foot. She gazed at the spreading crimson, then with discreet curiosity, crouched down and put a finger in it. Then she gazed at her finger, and tasted the bit of blood. There was a watery taste.

She placed two fingers into the blood and tasted it again. Rulirel swore that the second sampling of blood tasted better than the first. She was about to take a handful when she noticed many of the elves standing outside, watching her with curiosity.

"Never show mercy again," the mother said to herself.

Rulirel stood up. Unexpectedly, she felt some of the warriors - even the mother and both children - nearly smirk and otherwise praise at the macabre performance. Their eyes started to shine with feral compulsion, and they seemed eager to duplicate the battle-maiden. Rulirel herself smiled as she scanned the forest for more victims for her swords. But she noticed Imeriah first.

"They are weaker than you thought," Rulirel stated. "No longer will we follow our rules of war. From now on, we will slaughter any human that dares come near an elf. Raise your blades, battle-maidens - the forest will return!"

Rulirel raised her fists. The warriors cheered. Kara cooed.

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