Page 6 of Blood Lord

The Council member doesn't respond as she rises, listening obediently to her superior. She pushed Brinda too far, and her punishment will be severely felt. Two weeks without feeding will reduce her to the size of an adolescent; her throat will burn continuously and her mind will turn into a fog.

But she will recover when she is allowed to hunt, and from there, she will remember her place. It is a good and just system.

Once the Council member is gone, Brinda turns back to me. "As I was saying, we have approved one vrakken to go to the surface to investigate, and if you are interested, I have elected it to be you."

When Brinda said that this would be interesting, she had not lied. Just the idea of returning to the surface sends a thrill through me, and my wings twitch at the thought of being able to fly—truly fly.

It's been centuries since I've been aboveground, and I am curious to see what's changed. More so, I 'm desperate for a change of scenery, and having a true purpose again would be a blessing.

So I grin, letting my wings flap a little though they stay tucked in tight at my sides. "I will be your scout."

Brinda nods, but that spark of excitement is there in her eyes. She knows how much this means to me. "Your mission is to gather information about the surface, to detect if there has been a change that we must know about, and report back."

A shiver chases through me as she says with finality, "You have one week."

4

Selene

When I first started as a performer, my stomach would be in knots the entire night, before, during, and even after my performance.

But tonight, as I listen to the hum of the audience in the big tent, I feel nothing but excitement. I'm eager to get in there and perform; many of them are here for me, afterall.

My act is always toward the end, though, so I have to stay hidden behind the curtain with some of the other performers. From here, we can't be seen, or see anything, but I listen as each act is introduced to see what kind of crowd we have tonight.

Our acts are always in the same order, so I know where the high points are of each act. Sometimes, the crowds are tough, and if they fall silent where they should be cheering, I know there will be punishment.

But tonight, they scream at everything. Every act introduced seems to thrill them, and I'm grinning from ear to ear, all too happy to see how Nielmor will reward me after they praise mine.

"Ladies and gentle-elves!" Nielmor calls over the roar of the crowd, still reeling from the acrobatic act.

They are incredible, the four of them, and that would be because Nielmor placed a fog over their mind. They feel no fear. And that makes for a great act, though we constantly have to replace those in it. They break easily when they feel no need to protect themselves.

"Please give a warm Liiandor welcome to the Parade of Freaks!"

The freakshow is one of our biggest attractions. The elves here love it, but this crowd is freaking out.

It's always the same group that is pushed out onto stage. There's the woman who moved too slow for Nielmor's liking, and she is now a self-peddling unicycle. Her bones had been snapped and bent to form the spokes, her skin stretched out over the whole piece so that it is solid black. There are even pedals and a seat, and sometimes, Nielmor rides her.

Then, there is the animated ball and hoop—a set of twins. Nielmor enchanted the hoop so that it is unable to touch the ground, unable to rest after the twin fell asleep while waiting backstage. Her brother was just unluckily too close and now they perform a set of series where he bounces around and through the hoop, which twists and flips without ever being touched.

Next, there is a weird version of an equu—a young boy who complained about the walking we had to do between shows once. Now, he pulls the carts.

But he doesn't look like an equu. He is all skin, and it's clear that he was once human with overly stretched out legs and an elongated face. Nothing about him looks right, and neither does his rider—a humanoid equu.

The poor thing is in a constant fog of pain, its limbs contracted and its face smooshed. It doesn't react when Nielmor binds its hooves to the saddlehorn—at least not anymore—and he makes the two ride through a series of harsh jumps and even sets the hoop—the sentient one—on fire for them to jump through.

When it's all said and done, he goes out himself, having a little comedy act with his footstool. He teases it, coaxing it to dance around for the audience, and then he climbs on top the flesh covered stool and takes a bow.

It used to disgust me when I first saw it, but at this point, I'm numb to it. It's a part of the act, and the dark elves love it. These more so than others as they call out to the objects, taunting the humans that, probably, can still hear them.

"Put to good use, huh?"

"Wish I could teach my human to move that fast. Maybe I need Nielmor to make a home visit!"

"Dance, you disgusting creature! Remind us why we keep you alive!"

They shout and jeer and laugh, and thuds echo backstage as they toss items at the freaks, howling at the way they try to dodge them. The crowd only grows more manic when one manages to actually hit or, even better, knock over one of the people-turned-objects.

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