The tip of the arrow shook as the woman narrowed her vision onto me, yet the shaking wasn't from the intense weight of the bow, but instead a fear of hurting me. I could smell it practically dripping from her face in the form of sweat.
"I have no ill intentions," I raised my hands, not wanting to show any power just in case I'm noticed by the higher-ups of this plane. So, my best bet was to try and descale the situation to the best of my abilities.
"I SAID BACK AWAY FROM THE CHILD! IF YOU DON'T I WILL SWIFTLY BLOW A HOLE THROUGH YOUR FOREHEAD!"
For a moment, I believed that shaking to be out of fear, and for a moment I believed she wouldn't shoot no matter what I did. But even after I took a few steps back away from the child, it seemed she still saw me as a threat, and with a small hold of her breath, she took aim and fired.
The arrow whistled through the air, greeting the space between my eyes and then slamming against my forehead. The tip shattered instantly and the elven woman's reaction was to be expected. I mean, I did just break an arrow without even needing to move.
…
(Elven Woman POV)
As an elven woman of the forest, I had always felt a deep connection to the natural world. My heart was attuned to the rustling leaves, the murmurs of the streams, and the whispered secrets of the ancient trees. It was a life of harmony and tranquility, one that had sheltered me and my son for countless generations.
One serene day, I stood amidst the golden fields of wheat, their stalks swaying in the gentle breeze like a sea of whispers. My son, a young and curious elf, was frolicking among the amber waves, his laughter a melody that resonated with the very essence of our enchanted realm. In that moment, the world felt perfect, a sanctuary of peace and beauty.
But then, without warning, the sky above us began to churn and darken. My heart quickened as I gazed upward, fearing the unknown that threatened to disrupt our idyllic existence. The tranquil azure canopy was marred by an ominous presence, a monstrous being descending from the heavens.
It was a creature of nightmare, grotesque and unnatural. Its wings, immense and leathery, cast a shadow that blotted out the sun. Its body was a grotesque amalgamation of scales and claws, and its eyes, filled with malevolence, glowed like crimson fire.
My breath caught in my throat as I realized the unthinkable—the creature was descending upon the very field of wheat where my son played, unaware of the impending danger. Panic surged through me, and I felt the primal instinct to protect my child.
I rushed toward my son, my heart pounding in my chest, the golden strands of wheat parting before me. Desperation fueled my every step as I called out to him, my voice a tremor of fear and urgency. He turned toward me, innocence in his eyes, oblivious to the impending threat.
Quickly, I drew my bow and arrow, tightening it behind my head and releasing it. It had been a while since I had last drawn this weapon, so it felt as if I was tugging on a mountain, but if it was for my son, I didn't care. And as I struggled to keep this arrow drawn behind my head, my entire body pounding with fear, I screamed at the monster.
"I have no ill intentions," she smiled, slowly raising her hands, but I didn't believe it. Not even for a second.
"I SAID BACK AWAY FROM THE CHILD! IF YOU DON'T I WILL SWIFTLY BLOW A HOLE THROUGH YOUR FOREHEAD!"
As the monstrous being drew closer, descending from the heavens, I released the arrow, only for it to shatter helplessly in front of the monster's seemingly invincible defense. And as it shrugged off my attack, its presence seemed to infect the very air, turning the vibrant field into a realm of dread.
I ran. As fast as my legs could take me until I reached my son's side, my arms wrapping around him protectively, shielding him from the malevolent force that loomed above. The dread crushed my bones and pressed into my muscles, yet I stood firm with conviction, glaring harshly at the woman.
The creature landed with a deafening thud, its impact sending shockwaves through the earth. The very ground trembled beneath its monstrous weight. It surveyed the field, its crimson eyes filled with an aura of arrogance but also benevolence. Like a god who watched from above.
It was a sight both breathtaking and terrifying. Its wings, a dark expanse of ebony, stretched wide, casting a shadow over the wheat fields. Two massive, rigid black horns crowned its head like dark, twisted crowns. Its skin, though flawless and pale, held an unsettling allure that seemed to beckon one closer, despite the unease it inspired. But it was the being's eyes that held the most unsettling fascination.
One eye bore an X-shaped pupil, a bizarre and otherworldly sigil that seemed to defy the very laws of nature. The other eye held a circular pupil, like a dark void that absorbed all light. The duality of those eyes spoke of a being that was both captivating and sinister, a force of nature that could not be comprehended by mortal minds.
As the creature descended, it surveyed the field with a curious intent, its gaze locking onto my son and me with an intrigued focus. Suddenly, it let out a guttural, otherworldly shriek upward that reverberated through the air, causing the wheat to tremble and the earth to shiver in response.
In that moment of peril, I clutched my son tightly, shielding him with my body as I drew my elven bow from my back once again, an heirloom of our ancient lineage. My fingers trembled as I nocked another arrow, my heart pounding with fear and resolve. I knew that I had to protect my child from this monstrous entity that threatened our peaceful existence.
But before I could release the arrow, the being's dark presence seemed to shift, its aura underwent a profound transformation, and the very fabric of the world seemed to shift in response. The air, which had once been heavy with dread, began to change, becoming infused with an ethereal and enchanting quality.
The wheat fields, which had trembled in fear, now swayed with almost hypnotic grace, their golden stalks catching the fading light of the setting sun. The whispers of the wind transformed into a soothing, melodic hum as if the very breeze were whispering secrets of the universe. Each rustling leaf and blade of wheat seemed to harmonize with the newfound serenity.
The being's departure left behind an imprint in the landscape, an ephemeral echo of its presence. It was as if the very earth had absorbed the essence of the transformation, leaving an indelible mark on the realm. The lingering aura felt like a riddle, a story waiting to be deciphered, and I couldn't help but wonder about the mysteries it held.
My fingers, which had gripped the elven bow with white-knuckled intensity, now relaxed their hold. I lowered the heirloom weapon to my side, the wood and sinew seeming to exhale in relief. The fear that had gripped my heart was replaced by a sense of wonder and curiosity, as I contemplated the enigmatic nature of the being we had encountered.
I looked down at my son, nestled against me throughout the ordeal. His eyes, once wide with fear, now held a sense of innocent curiosity, mirroring my own emotions. It was as if the very child had sensed the change in the world around us, from a perilous encounter to a wondrous revelation.
In that profound moment, as the sun painted the horizon with hues of orange and pink, I felt an extraordinary connection to the natural world. It was a reminder that our realm was filled with mysteries beyond our understanding and that even the most monstrous of beings could hold secrets that transcended the boundaries of our perception.
With a newfound sense of humility and reverence for the unknown, I whispered a word of gratitude to the ancient spirits of the forest. I knew that our encounter with the being would forever be etched in our memories, a testament to the ever-changing tapestry of life and the eternal dance between darkness and light in the world we called home.
"This place is calmer than I thought…" The woman muttered, taking a look around before giving me and my son a good hard look. Her head cocked to the side and swayed like the movement of an avian before crouching down to reach our level. "I'm sorry, did I scare you?"
Her words felt soft. They massaged my mind with a peaceful grace as if luring me in and lowering my guard. But even though I was aware of this, she was too strong. I could do nothing but fall for hypnosis while my instincts tightly clutched my son towards my chest.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from f(r)eeweb(n)ovel.𝒄𝒐𝙢