Fast Fiction: The Ambassador From Nektulos (Part 2)
Go to Part 1 - 4 minute read
A familiar flame lit in the little warrior's heart. The dark elf swelled in its vision.
D'Vinn's cheek again rested against his ringed knuckles as his body sat limp in the stone chair. "Go on, what are you waiting for? Do you think I'm magic?"
Orcs were not prone to bluffs and threats, unlike the more sophisticated races, they were known to act first.
The halberd shot forward. D'Vinn, somewhow, moved past it. Heavy-jeweled knucless collided with the orc's jaw. The halberd scraped only air before clattering to the ground. The sprawling orc groped for its weapon. When its fingers found the wooden shaft, D'Vinn's boot eased pressure upon the wrist, forcing the fingers back open. The orc grimaced and grunted like a drowning pig.
"My little maestro of secrets,” D’Vinn gave his metallic chuckle. "I have a secret for you, now. A secret for you. To keep for me."
The little orc's nerves were on the outside of its skin. D'Vinn stood over it with a sadistic gleam in his eyes while palming a stiletto dagger. He bent down and lifted the leather shoulder strap of the orc's armor. The blade entered slowly just above the arm pit. The orc gave muffled throaty groans. It had seen enough action to know that, if the centurions barged in, its life would be forfeit.
It took everything not to cry out. The blade was buried to the hilt in solid muscle, and then suddenly removed. D'Vinn fitted the shoulder strap back to its proper place, and held the orc's gaze. "I wonder what your emperor would say if he saw me enjoying his little guard so well."
Orcs were not known for their compassion nor were they strangers to subjugating their foes, but the look in the Teir'Dal's eyes was something else, something infinite and terrifying. "Now, my little maestro of secrets, you will keep this a secret. Just between us."
D'Vinn returned to the chiseled throne. "Go now, back to the window."
The orc hesistated, unsure and visibly ashamed, before returning to its post. Its wandering reptilian eyes were manic in their sockets, finding D'Vinn again and again within a swirling room. The blasphemous creature in the emperor's chair held a single jeweled finger to his wide elfin lips. The orc felt nauseated as pain coursed throughout his shoulder and across his chest.
The wooden door burst open as three larger orcs reeking and matted with blood strode into the throne room. D'Vinn recognized the shorter as the emperor Crush, though still large for an orc, between two legionnaires. The ragged decapitated head of a wood elf hung from Crush's grasp. The three stopped front-face towards D'Vinn seated on the throne. Crush tossed the head in the dark elf's direction. It rolled and bounced upon the stone floor to a stop at D'Vinn's feet.
The Teir'Dal looked up unalarmed. "I suppose I have the former owner of that head to thank for the long wait?"
Crush kept steady. Muscles bulked in his jaw. "You sit on my throne, elf-kin!" the voice boomed and the legionnaires snarled hatred.
"Yet you reward me with the remnants of a slain Feir'Dal." D'Vinn smiled. "I was only keeping it warm for you in your absence."
"You not emperor of Crushbone!" Crush advanced.
D'Vinn shot a look at the little orc standing by the window, a prayer of revenge on its face. Beads of sweat coated its twitching body as pain burned beneath the armor. The dark elf did not stir from the seat. "That is but one head, your highness. How many elfin eyes do you think I had to shut forever in order to find you? Do you truly wish for one of them to sit upon your throne instead of you or I?"
The emperor had seen D'Vinn's prowess first hand. Still, his blood was hot. His gait steadied but did not halt.
Alarm shown upon the dark elf's face as his measured tone seemed to rise, ever so slightly, in pitch. "It will be your head upon the floor if we let that happen." D'Vinn stood and moved from the stone chair. "Please, take your rightful seat, emperor."
To be continued...
