Page 24 of Plaything of the Dark Elf

Dalia

Three days.

That’s how long it’s been since he last spoke to me. Three days.

I lay upon my bed, sprawled across the sheets. The sunlight pierces through the window, hitting my face and warming my skin. I want to see my family again. Do they think about me in the same way I think about them? What if they think I’m dead?

It’s a sword through the heart. My family is the only reason why I continue to fight. Without them, I would have waved the white flag ages ago. There’s no point to my life without them, but when will I get to see them?

I can’t stay here forever. Thanks to the murmurings of the other servants, I know that General Etheron is not in the mansion. He hasn’t been at the mansion since the last time I saw him, actually. I don’t know if I should be concerned or not, but with his disappearance, I have toyed with the idea of escaping this horrible place altogether.

Who would stop me? I doubt anyone would notice. Barely anyone checks on me as is. They don’t wonder if I’ve bathed or if I have anything to eat. I’m a caged animal with no one to confide in.

When my bedroom doors burst open, I leap out of bed. I half-expect it to be General Etheron, ready to use me or accuse me of wielding dark magic again.

It’s only one of the servants, whose name slips my mind. I recognize him, though. Usually, he carries himself without an expression on his face, but he’s staring at me with pure contempt in his dark eyes. His face contorts once he sees me.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” I reply. I stand with my back straight and chin held high, hoping not to offend. “I don’t have much to do, so I haven’t done much these last few days.”

“Things are about to change drastically around here,” he replies, smiling wide. He’s holding his hands behind his back. “The General has informed me that he is tired of you and no longer wants to use you as a sex slave.”

That’s… surprising. I hide the shock on my face by pressing my lips into a thin line and nodding, but I’m left with questions. What’s going to happen with me now?

General Etheron is a volatile dark elf. Each day in this mansion, I live with the anticipation that he’s going to snap and kill me within the blink of an eye. Is this my chance at freedom? Will I get to see my family soon? The thought gives me goosebumps.

“In that case…” I watch my tone, not wanting to seem overly excited with the news. I can’t trust these dark elves. This servant might be one of his spies. “What will happen to me? Will I be returned?”

“Only General Etheron can make a decision like that. He has not disclosed to me what he wants to do with you, so in the meantime, you’re going to work.”

My face drops. “Work?”

“Yes. We all do our share around here, so it’s about time you start helping.” He pulls a dark set of clothing from behind his back and shoves it into my arms. “Get dressed.”

“...Alright.”

He leaves the room briefly, which gives me enough time to switch into the clothes. They’re large and baggy on me. I have to roll my sleeves up frequently because they’re long enough to cover my hands completely. I do the same with the slacks. For shoes, I’m wearing bulky brown work boots that lend an inch to my height.

When he returns, he places a container full of water and suds at my feet. Then, he abruptly hands me a mop.

“Clean the floors, starting with this room. Then, move into the hallways. I don’t want to see any blemishes.”

I nod. This is strange. Is he the new leader, now that General Etheron is missing? At the very least, he’s not pressing daggers into my throat and threatening to cut my head off, so that’s a big plus.

Still, he doesn’t treat me very well.

I wash the floors without complaint, scrubbing to and fro until the light reflects brilliantly off the material. Next, I lug the mop and the soapy water into the hallway where I do the same thing. Other dark elf servants pass by, stepping on the floor and leaving track marks in their stead. They mutter things to one another, too.

It’s not a big deal, though. I clean until the floors are spotless. I take a moment to admire my hard work, but it’s abruptly soiled by the same dark elf servant coming from behind me and snatching the mop from my hands. Since I’m leaning on it, his action nearly topples me over.

“You’re going to clean the stables next. It’s been many moons since someone last attended to them, so today’s your lucky day.”

He says that with a smile, but there’s no emotion in his eyes. He leads the way to the stables, taking quick strides that leave me in the dust. When we arrive, it reeks of manure. Dung smears across the ground and the stench makes my eyes water. I hold back my gag by pressing a hand over my mouth.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he says, handing me the tool that I’ll need to muck out the stables. “This builds character.”

“Who’s the person who takes care of the stables?” I ask, grimacing at the state of the stalls. “I don’t know much, but I would think you’re supposed to wash these daily.”

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