II. The White City

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II. The White City

            I remembered waking up during the time the young Man carried me on horseback to the White City. Though I was not awake enough to move or open my eyes, I was awake enough to hear things: the Man’s worried comments about me under his breath, his steed’s gait and breathing.

            The second time I was barely conscious, I heard different noises: various murmurs, laughter, hooves colliding with cobblestone flooring. We had to have made it to the White City—surely a place in the middle of nowhere would not randomly have cobblestone lying along the ground.

            I went under again but was roused when I felt different sensations and heard different things again: being in someone’s arms, hearing a pair of feet run towards me, the young Man’s rapid, frantic explanation as to what happened. If I had had enough strength to open my eyes and see where I was, I would have gladly done so.

            Sadly, those were the last things I remembered hearing before I was pulled under again.

*     *     *

            Silence met me when I began to be conscious once again. I breathed mutely and felt myself lying on my back, on something comfortable for a change. I was puzzled. What was I lying on? I twitched my fingers to feel around me, feeling a soft fabric…silk? With some effort, I popped my eyes open only to be met with a ceiling.

            I stared at it, trying to get my mind working normally again. I wondered how I was still alive at this point. What had happened during my blackout periods?

            I weakly lifted my head to see that I was in a small room that was big enough to house one person. Curious, I slowly inched myself up into a sitting position. I looked at the clothes that covered me. My ragged, dirty outfit had been stripped off me and replaced with a soft off-white gown. I rubbed the back of my neck, wincing as my fingers brushed the spots that they had grabbed.

            “I can assure you, my lady, she is recovering, though not as well as we would like or hope,” came a voice from down the hall. I jumped, afraid to squeak.

            “Well, she is recovering, and that is all that matters,” a soft voice replied. “He was smart in bringing her here. It has been how long since she was brought here?”

            “Three days.” I had been out for three days? What did I miss? “Really, my lady, you do not need to be here. We can take care of her just fine.”

            “I know you can, but she is one of my kind. When she wakes, she will most likely be frightened and not want to talk to anyone. She will probably not trust you, or anyone for that matter.”

“If you say this, then why do you want to see her?”

“I can communicate with her in our native tongue to assure her that she is in a safe place.”

            “If you say so. Her room is right there.”

            I wrung my hands nervously as I heard faint steps cross to the open threshold in my room. I swallowed as soon as she entered.

            She was beautiful, with her raven hair falling behind her down to her back. Her pale lavender dress hid her feet. Her grey eyes were soft and warm, trying to make me feel safe. I wanted to feel protected, but I was in a foreign place with an Elf I didn’t know. How could I feel secure when I knew nothing?

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