Elven

Elf.

Even in the crowded airport, the word cut through the sound like a knife, stopping me from continuing through the crowds in a brainwashed, dazed state. All the things I’d faced, destroyed, and been forced into, and that god-awful word had complete power over me. Carefully, I glanced around. Two toddlers, waiting to board their plane, were staring at me and pointing. They stood from their seats, gesturing wildly, and behaving like, well, toddlers. My human disguise hadn’t fooled them, but everyone else was completely oblivious. An older girl who looked about my age grabbed the kids' hands and pulled them away, though I could still hear them. They shared the word in wonder, not believing I was real. To me, it sounded vile. An accusation, even in the unassuming mouths of mere children. It brought back a barrage of memories, guilt, hatred, and the cold, pure note of melancholy. These were the things I had worked so hard to repress, and that one word undid it all. I closed my eyes, holding back frustrated, tired tears. We had just gotten off the plane and were walking to the baggage claim. I mindlessly followed my mother, allowing the thoughts to lead me back into the dark abyss of reality. There was no use denying it; I could not escape. The higher powers I was forced to succumb to had made sure of that. Hands tied, I could only allow them to control my each and every move, and wait to be used as a pawn to accomplish whatever the hell they believed was best.

And, needless to say, I hated it. I didn’t use to. But, after certain unsuspected failures permeated my life, there was no way I could go back to my blissful state of obedience. Yet, there was nothing else I could do that would fix my current state of being.

"Isabella! Pay attention!"

I blinked, my mother's sharp voice bringing me back to the present. I had completely zoned out, trying to take my mind off of all the possible threats, all the things that could have been noticed, the things we so desperately continued to hide.

As I glanced around, it was a little disconcerting to be able to read everything. We were in an airport somewhere in the United States, though I wasn’t told what state, and English wasn't my first language. It was my fifth after Italian, Elvish, Latin, and French. Learning the common language of a country was part of our requirements before going there. Most of us only learned three: our country's tongue, Elvish, and Latin. I did manage to persuade the Elder Gyn to let me learn French, although he didn't like the idea of me learning a language I would probably never use. He was wrong; I covertly communicated with a French elf, who was a close friend until she was “released from her duties”, which was their way of saying they were done dealing with her, period. Despite my extra experience, I still wasn't used to the effects of flash learning, the transmittance of a language instantaneously through a flash of light. Both exhilarating and painful, it was almost like looking through eyes after they had been dilated—the colors over-exaggerated, everything bright and slightly blurry around the edges, watery eyes, and the constant throb of a headache. In other words, not pleasant.

The crowded airport terminal, along with the toddlers, had given me an overload of sorts. There were too many people, too many armed guards, and way too many felonies I could have been caught for. For starters, my fake I.D. and passport. As far as Americans were concerned, Isabella Zaine was a 100% legal immigrant. But when I technically don't exist, how legal can I possibly be? Second, the dagger strapped to my ankle wouldn't have gone over well if it hadn't been properly concealed. My mom hadn't even been able to detect it. Elvish senses were better than a metal detector could ever hope to achieve and my mother’s were stronger than the average elf’s.

I looked up at my mom, who was giving me the stink eye. She suspected something, but that didn't stop me from edging closer to her, the only familiar thing left in my world.

She glanced around, then bent down and whispered, "Iz, I'm aware of your dagger. Don't think I didn't notice it."

When I looked at her quizzically, she said, "Mid-flight, you let your guard down for half a second. But I couldn't exactly say anything to you then."