Pharaluen: The Chosen One

By Riana Frauendorf

When the daily chore of fetching water from the river, mistakenly lands her in the
middle of a planned attack, the demure chambermaid, barely escapes with her life!
By the turn of the sun, thrust into a world beyond her wildest dreams, shes forced
to shed the life she once knew, that reveals itself as a farce...
When the plot unravels, The Chosen One discovered, friends become foe, and no
one can be trusted.
With two worlds entwined, romance blooms but treachery looms, and a thirst for
more leaves the mind amazed in awe.
Set in a time of Dragons, knights and wizards, the world of Pharaluen will change
from darkness, into light. It will enchant the soul and captivate the imagination

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Jul 6, 2011
• ISBN: 9781462882694

Riana Frauendorf

Riana Frauendorf has graduated from the Cape Peninsula University of Technology. She currently lives with her husband and two daughters in South Africa, but, most of the time, the family spend their days in Pharaluen.

Book preview

Copyright © 2011 by Riana Frauendorf.

Library of Congress Control Number:        2011909294

ISBN:         Hardcover                                978-1-4628-8268-7

                   Softcover                                 978-1-4628-8267-0

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4628-8269-4

                    (ISBN South Africa)                978-0-620-50307-5

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

0-800-644-6988

www.xlibrispublishing.co.uk

[e-mail]

302195

This book, I dedicate to my father, Adrian Hendrik Etsebeth.

Thank you for believing in me, I will always Love you!

Contents

Acknowledgement

Preface

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

Chapter fourteen

Chapter fifteen

Chapter sixteen

Chapter seventeen

Chapter eighteen

Chapter nineteen

Chapter twenty

Chapter twenty one

Chapter twenty two

Chapter twenty three

Chapter twenty four

Chapter twenty five

Chapter twenty six

Chapter twenty seven

Chapter twenty eight

Chapter twenty nine

Chapter thirty

Chapter thirty one

Chapter thirty two

Chapter thirty three

Chapter thirty four

Chapter thirty five

Chapter thirty six

Chapter thirty seven

Chapter thirty eight

Chapter thirty nine

Acknowledgement

To my husband, Dok… Thanks for your love and support, being my rock to lean on, and my anchor. Without you, this could not have been possible. I will love you always.

To my two daughters, Erian and Leivé. Always keep on smiling, and keep on writing your books, I look forward to reading them.

I am proud of you!

A special thank you to my talented publicist, Zarah Smith … as well as Rhea Vilacarlos and her team, for a job well done.

Thank you to Erika for the cover design and help with the story line, Kubeshini for your contribution and everyone else for their input and support.

To everyone reading this book… yes, YOU! Without you, this book could never become a reality. I trust that you will learn to love the characters as much as I do. May Pharaluen, become as much a part of your lives, as of mine.

Thank You!

Preface

Pharaluen, the perfect balance of life! A world of wonder, of peace and bliss; where dragons and griffins, humans and elves, all in harmony could co-exist. Evil was born, vengeance grew—the lust for power… all consuming! Life as they knew it, was fading away…

Shadow will come—It will not show the way,

Walk amongst those—to conquer and slay.

His name shall be known… his face will be seen

The road of destruction; a powerful being.

Truth be told of the one who dares,

To live for justice… the land it for cares.

To bear as witness—To all that has been,

Bring back unity—All life worth has seen.

Despair shall see hope; heartache will laugh

Sorrow be happy—Hate will be love!

The balance will cost the bearer its life.

Their only hope… The Chosen One! For once, a legend was true!

Chapter one

It was a chilly winter morning when she walked back towards the castle. Mist was rolling in from the mountains giving a ghostlike appearance to the woods. She knew it wouldn’t be long before she reached the open meadow.

She could hear the flapping of wings, drawing nearer. She placed the buckets carefully down so as not to spill the water and looked up towards the origin of the sound. She saw the outstretched claws of a huge dragon, wings folded tight against its body, diving down towards her.

She screamed and instinct propelled her forward… away from the beast’s claws.

As fast as her legs could carry her, she ran into the woods, staying beneath the cover of the trees. She knew she had to stay there, the meadow was much too open, and for the first time since she entered the woods she was grateful for the cover of the mist.

She tripped over a tree-root and fell down, feeling the small twigs and stones carve into the flesh of her palms and knees, but she ignored the pain, got back up and kept on going—deeper into the woods.

Panting, gasping for air, she hid behind the bark of a big Oak tree. She knew it should not be difficult to hide—but to hide from this.

She listened for the flapping of its wings when another sound reached her ears and sent a chill down her spine. She recognized it as the thundering noise of horses stampeding towards her. Their hooves storming made the ground tremble.

I must get to the mountain, she thought and gave up her hiding place, running towards the North.

Dark clouds were gathering over the woods, but she did not notice. Her throat burned and she struggled to breathe, but still she kept on going. The muscles in her legs were protesting, giving way beneath her, but she would crawl, get back up, and run further. Adrenaline and fear were pushing her deeper into the woods.

The Northern part of the forest was overgrown, thick and would give her shelter—if only she could get there fast enough. She gasped for air, the shouts of the soldiers lending wings to her feet.

They were gaining on her; she could hear them behind her. She stumbled and almost fell again but grabbed the trunk of a young tree, keeping her balance. She ducked behind the Oaks, scrambling from one to another, desperate not to be seen. The branches and thorns of the trees and brush were cutting notches through her clothes, exposing her skin, striking her face. They clung to her hair, ripping some from her scalp when she could not get it untangled fast enough. Blood was trickling down her arms and legs, but she did not feel the burn—the adrenaline in her system making her oblivious to pain.

She looked back over her shoulder but could hardly see through the thick blanket of mist. She was unaware of her surroundings; all she could think of was to get away. She saw the thick bush in front of her and crawled into it, covering her head with her arms, and pulling her legs up to her chest—rolling herself up in a little ball. She knew it must have been the burrow of some animal, but at that moment she did not care if she had to share the hiding-space with a hibernating python, as long as the soldiers could not find her! Her body was quivering from shock and over-exhaustion. Her breath came out in uneven gasps but she kept her head down, afraid to lift it and expose herself in the process.

A rider pulled his horse up just a few feet from where she was hiding. and Leila held her breath.

Please let him leave, let him not see me; she started to pray and then heard his voice.

You incompetent idiots! It is a woman—how could you lose her? he yelled, and she could hear the anger in his voice. She could hear other riders coming to a stop close to the first, their horses neighing and stamping their hooves. The soldier’s next words sent a feeling of dread through her body—shaking her from deep within… She has seen us… find her, kill her! and then she heard them urge their horses forward, away from her.

She remained undiscovered—at least for the moment—and Leila took a deep breath. After what felt like hours, she could hear the screaming of the men and drumming of the hooves fade in the distance, still she kept as still as possible.

Her legs felt numb and her neck was stiff from the crouched position she lay in, but her fear of them finding her overshadowed any discomfort , therefore she kept still.

Never in her life had she been so afraid—but this day she knew the full meaning of the word.

Later, when she could hear nothing but the wind through the leaves, she carefully pushed some of the leaves aside, trying to climb out of her hiding-place. Her fingers felt numb and swollen; sensitive to the touch of the stems, and she pulled her hand back. She turned it so she could look at her palm and only then realized that she had injured herself.

Leila was a chambermaid for King Marcus’ and Queen Mary’s daughter, Princess Maya. Her hands were soft, clean and always neat. Tending to the Princess, she had to keep them that way. Looking down at them now, she saw dried blood and dirt clinging to the wounds, and imagined the horrified expression on the Princess’s face if she should see them. Tears of pain and bewilderment ran down her cheeks and she bit down hard on her lip, when she tried to rub them clean with her wrap.

After removing as much of the dirt as she possibly could, she crawled out from beneath the bush.

I have to get home; she thought and looked at her surroundings. She then realized that she had no idea where she was—she was lost. The river—I must find the river! She thought excitedly, knowing it would lead her home. It ran through the woods in front of the castle—and as soon as she got to the waterfall, it would guide her in the right direction. She just needed to find it.

So many questions rushed through her mind—nothing made sense to her. What did they want with me? What is going on? Where am I? Where are they going that I should not know? Do they know me?

She walked a little while and saw that the woods were growing darker. Soon it would be too dark for her to see anything.

She felt cold, the mist did not help for her lack of vision and, being a moonless night, the dark overwhelmed her quickly. She kept her hands outstretched in front of her, so she would not walk into a tree and listened carefully for the sound of the river, making very little progress. She did not realize that she was walking away from the river, away from help.

She heard a twig break and stood frozen. Oh no! She thought and wished that she’d never left her hiding place. Suspecting that a soldier had found her, she turned slowly around to look at her attacker. She could see nothing through the pitch-black night. Walking backwards, she tripped over something and fell. Instinctively she pushed her hands out to soften the landing and hit something cold and hard beneath her. Turning around, kneeling, she tried to feel the shape of the object, hoping that it would be something she could use to defend herself.

At that moment lightning hit the tree next to her, illuminating the area where she was crouching. She looked down at her hands and saw the body of a soldier, pierced by an arrow and she was touching his chest. She jumped up, wanting to run in the opposite direction and stumbled over another corpse. Frantically she looked around her, hysteria clutching her throat, making her ill. In the light of the burning tree she saw that she stumbled onto a graveyard of bodies—some killed by sword, some by arrow. She could hear a tearing sound, almost like flesh being torn apart and when she looked beyond the trees, she saw an animal chewing on a headless corpse, blood covering its muzzle, and then Leila started running!

Chapter two

As the door opened to Lord Fergus’s chamber, he stepped away from the map on the table in front of him.

You have called for me my Lord? he heard the young Knight’s voice from the door. Looking up, he saw the face of his son. Long, black oily hair, eyes that were almost the same black colour, big beard, and masculine build. Demetrius was one of his best—leader of his Black Knights.

Fergus is King of Fragonsdal. He is very powerful and feared amongst the people of his Kingdom. He shows no mercy to his enemy; takes what he can with force, and none live to tell about it. Women and children are killed and all that remains, burnt to the ground! All of his empire respects him, for all fear his wrath.

The mission has failed—the soldiers were ambushed! he replied and gestured his son closer.

But my Lord, how is it possible? he heard the young man ask, but heard smugness in his voice. How were they ambushed? Did someone see them? he asked, and Fergus shook his head and ran his fingers over the red stone on his staff.

One of the soldiers made it back. He said there was a girl. He thought her to be a peasant, but when they tried to capture her, she disappeared into the woods. Apparently they were attacked by a griffin!

Demetrius had trouble keeping his face straight, he knew his father would not tolerate his making fun of the situation… but what he was suggesting was absurd!

It is ludicrous! There is no such thing as a griffin! he argued and saw his father’s face redden. I will speak with the soldier—where is he? he asked and turned for the door.

He has succumbed from his wounds. Fergus said, and now Demetrius could hear the alarm in his father’s voice.

It cannot be true, my Lord…

It seems that way—but what if it is? What if the amulet is somehow connected to the woman? She can warn the people of Damascus, all will be in vain if we do not find the amulet! Fergus’s voice rose as he spoke and Demetrius took a small step away from his father.

My Lord, I do not believe that this woman is connected to the amulet. It must have been a coincidence that she was there when the soldiers saw her.

Fergus rubbed his beard between his forefinger and thumb while he listened to his son’s idea of what possibly could have happened. As much as he would want to believe that she was there by accident—he knew better than to assume! If that is true, then how do you explain the griffin—the ambush?

Maybe she had someone helping her, perhaps a wizard?

No, no man can use magic without my knowledge, I have killed the only other wizard Pharaluen has ever known…

What about a shade? Are there any of those left? he asked mockingly, but Fergus gave him a very disapproving look.

Not even a shade would be able to help her disappear! he almost yelled.

I do not believe there was a woman in the forest! I will call on the Black Knights and we will do what the soldiers could not! he said with determination. When he saw the disapproving look on his father’s face, he added more hesitantly, If that is what you wish, my Lord?

Yes. That is my wish! he assured Demetrius, and gave him a brief description of Damascus.

Damascus is surrounded by high walls and the river flows in front of it. Entrance to the grounds, can only be accomplished by use of the drawbridge. The back of the castle is on the face of Mount Damarun. The sheer drop of the cliffs can kill you and no man would be able to invade the grounds from the mountain.

But we will! Demetrius assured him adamantly.

You must take the dragons—there would be no other entrance point. If you use the drawbridge, the King would alert his army and stop you! I want this done as quickly and quietly as possible!

Yes, my Lord. It shall be done!

Bring me the amulet and if you can, the girl! Demetrius saw how his father’s eyes shone at mentioning the girl and felt a prick of annoyance. All he cared about was getting his hands on the amulet, the girl he would kill, just for the fun of it.

I will prepare the men, leave for Damascus at sunrise! he said, and looked with his dark eyes full of enthusiasm at his father.

Lord Fergus walked closer and placed his hand on Demetrius’s shoulder. You must make haste—we do not want them to prepare for battle. The girl would surely tell them what happened in the woods.

Yes my Lord, as you wish!

Good! Now be gone! he gestured with his hands, dismissing his son and turned back to the map on the table. With a bow of the head, Demetrius walked from the room, and closed the door behind him.

Demetrius could hardly restrain the enthusiasm from his voice when he called on the Black Knights. You must sharpen your swords and prepare the dragons… we will leave for Damascus on the morrow—be prepared for battle!

Battle? But my Lord, were the soldiers not ambushed last time they went to Damascus? They said that the place is haunted by griffins and witches. Some of the men protested, and Demetrius saw the fear in their eyes.

He thought that something like that would happen. They must have heard about the soldier who died… the ambush!

Demetrius walked up to the knights and squeezed the words through his teeth, You are knights—they were soldiers! You have more training than they would ever get! He looked from one familiar face to the others. Look around you. How can you doubt your fellow man, your brother-in-arms? You are the King’s best! If anybody can do this and survive—I believe, I know and trust that the Black Knights can!

He could see that it was not enough to give them comfort.

He told us of the griffin… the Knight across from him said.

There is no such thing! It was the ramblings of a soldier about to die! Hallucinations!

Demetrius, you and I know better than to doubt the words of a dying soldier, the first knight said, and Demetrius walked up to him pulling his sword from his sheath and putting it under the knight’s chin.

You dare question your Lord’s word? He was putting pressure on the tip of his blade. It drew a drop of blood from the man’s neck, the man swallowed nervously. It would be so easy—taking the man’s life—just a little further… and then he dropped his sword.

I do not question you my Lord. Please forgive me, the knight begged, feeling relief spill over him when Demetrius returned the sword to its sheath. Demetrius looked at them, nodded and then left them alone to do his bidding.

When he entered his chamber, he took the sword from his belt and with a grindstone, sharpened the blade in anticipation for the upcoming journey to Damascus. He will lead the knights over the mountains, and when it is dark, he will gain entrance to the grounds. He will search for the amulet, and should they be discovered, they will kill everyone that stands in their way! The women and children will run around like rats, screaming, crying, and begging for his mercy—but he has none to give! He is Demetrius of Fragonsdal, the man with no heart, the man who will rule and take what he wants.

The power is mine to do so! he thought smugly and felt a shudder as he said the words.

Chapter three

With eyes like a hawk, the elf raced through the forest. His progress was slow, but he kept on going. He heard the scream of a woman and it worried him. Did the soldiers capture her?

It could not be much further than where I saw the bodies and pack of wolves earlier, he thought, and made haste. If indeed it was a woman, she was in grave danger—not just from the weather but also the wolves.

The rain was pouring down like a waterfall from the heavens when he saw her. "She’s barely a woman!" He thought as he saw the petite body of what looked like a girl lying under the Cypress. Her hair covered her body, hanging in tassels around her face, water streaming over her. He walked closer, his footsteps soundless on the bed of grass, mud and leaves, under the rumbling noise of the thunder and downpour of rain. He bent over her and lightly touched her shoulder. She was very tiny and he could feel the bones in her shoulder.

Can you hear me? he asked and shook her shoulder slightly, but she did not move. When he turned her over, the rain washed the hair from her face, and he could see several scratch-marks on her cheeks and forehead. She was very pale and had very delicate features. Her eyebrows were thin and slightly curved, almost straight lines, and she had long eyelashes. She had a straight, narrow nose and thin lips with high cheekbones. She could have passed as an elf, but she lacked the pointed ears and he knew she was human.

He touched her neck with two fingers, feeling for a pulse and then felt the thump under his fingers. Her body was cold to the touch.

Can you hear me? he asked, again shaking her lightly, trying to wake her. She opened her eyes slowly and when she looked up at him, he saw that her eyes were as green as the forest.

Leila was very confused when she saw the man leaning over her. What happened? Where am I? she asked.

She could not understand why she was lying in the rain and when she looked around; she saw she was in the forest. Her memory came back slowly, as if in a dream… the dragon, the soldiers, the dead bodies, the wild dog… Thinking that this man was one of the soldiers hunting her, she scrambled to her feet to get away, but then felt a sharp pain go through her ankle.

Nicolai saw the fear in her now even paler skin, and held his hand up with the palm facing her, I mean you no harm, you need not fear me!

Leila did not trust him. He looked very suspicious. He wasn’t wearing the armour the soldiers were wearing, but he also did not look like anyone she had seen before. Water was running over his hood, and he had a crossbow over his shoulder and a knife tied to his leg. She felt a wave of fear ripping through her stomach. Leave me be! she cried and pushed herself backwards, away from him. The tree was blocking her path and she could not move any further.

The woods are no place for a woman, especially at night. He said trying to comfort her, but his words had the opposite effect.

Who are you, what do you want with me? she asked, feeling her body shaking, she just wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or fear of the man.

My name is Nicolai. Give me your hand, I will help you. He said, and Leila heard the warmth in his voice.

She wasn’t sure if she could trust him, but something told her that if he wanted to hurt her, he would have done it already… not introduced himself first.

She looked at his outstretched hand and then placed her hand in his. He closed his fingers over hers and she flinched from the pain.

Nicolai was shocked at her cry and then saw how her hand looked. What happened to her? He thought. Without any further delay, he picked her up and carried her to where he left his horse.

Leila was grateful for the help, but very self-conscious. Who could this Nicolai be, and how did it happen that he was in the right place at the right moment? Was he one of the soldiers who tried to catch her? She remembered that the body she stumbled over was pierced by an arrow, and he was carrying a bow over his shoulder. Did he kill them?

My horse is just inside the clearing. It won’t be long now… he said to comfort her and kept on walking.

Leila could not find her voice but nodded in agreement. Although she was afraid of the man, it was comforting for her to know that she was no longer alone in the woods.

He helped her onto his horse then jumped on behind her. We have to make haste, the weather is turning for the worse! he explained, and urged the animal forward.

Leila felt the cold ripping through her body and moved closer to his, wanting the heat. Her fingers felt dead and it was difficult for her to hold on to the horse. Her body was trembling and shaking and it felt like the wind was ripping through her.

As the thunder rumbled dangerously, she realized that the biggest danger was the weather, not the man.

He lowered his body closer to hers and she could feel that he tried to block the rain from her. She hoped that he would not feel her tension. She knew that the rain must have hurt him, for every drop that did fall on her felt like a small stone being thrown at her. His knuckles showed white as he held on to the reins. She was shaking uncontrollably, her teeth chattering and her hands cramping. She tried to calm herself but to no avail. The convulsions started from deep within her and extended outward. She kept her head down and her eyes closed. She could feel the horse slowing and climbing, but was afraid to look. Then suddenly she realized that she was alone on the horse, and when she looked, saw that he was leading the horse into what seemed like the entrance of a cave.

There was a musty smell in the air but she was dry, and that was more important to her than the stale air. She strained her eyes to see better in the dark, but could hardly see her hand in front of her face.

There was a sudden bright light and then she saw flames growing deeper within the cave. "He started a fire!" she thought amazed, as if she was living in the dark ages and making fire was something attained only by wizards or witches.

She noticed that he walked closer, but could only see his silhouette. The fire was behind him. The hood of his cloak was covering his head, leaving his face in shadow, making him look mysterious. She kept her head down. So many emotions washed over her… fear, pain, anxiety but also gratitude.

He reached up to her and lifted her swiftly off the horse. She could feel the cave floor beneath her feet but when she tried to stand, she cried out in pain. She grabbed at him and felt him firm his grip on her waist, keeping her steady.

He followed her gaze to her foot, My ankle, I think I sprained it. She explained and he nodded as if he understood and without ceremony he once again picked her up and carried her towards the fire. He carefully helped her down on a sleeping mat. Leila was surprised to see that there was one nearby, then she started to look at her surroundings.

Do you live here? she asked, feeling the softness and warmth of the mat with her hand, imagining him sleeping there.

No. he said, removing his cloak and laying it next to the fire to dry. She felt her stomach turn when she saw the knife tied to his leg and when he heard her gasp, he looked at her reason for concern and remembered that she saw it in the woods and that she was then also afraid of him.

Self preservation, he mumbled.

She saw him remove a cloth and apple from the saddle on the horse’s back. She watched as the animal took the apple from him. He removed the saddle from the animal’s back and laid it down on the ground. He was once again walking towards her and she could feel panic rise in her throat. She felt his eyes on her, but was too afraid to meet his gaze, so instead focused on her ankle. When she started to feel dizzy she realized that she was holding her breath and exhaled, giving release to her lungs. He held the cloth out to her and with a confused look on her face, she looked at him.

Do you want my help? he asked.

Help for what? she asked and to Nicolai it seemed that her eyes turned as big as saucers.

To clean your hands and foot. he said, wondering why she`s so very afraid.

I do not need your help, my lord, she replied, and pushed out her chin, I am more than able to clean myself! and grabbed the cloth from him. She winced and then a groan escaped her throat. I do not need him or any other man! I will do this by myself, even if it kills me! She thought, and bit hard on her lip as she wiped the mud and leaves from her legs and arms.

Nicolai could not understand why she was being so stubborn, he turned around and walked to his horse to give her some privacy.

Leila watched as he took some hay that was lying around the animal and used it to wipe down the horse. He did it with so much care that it surprised her.

Leila then realized he looked back at her.

What?

I asked if I could help you now.

It is clean! she protested.

You have to tie up your ankle or the swelling will make it worse. He explained, almost as if he was speaking to a child who did not understand.

Oh, she breathed and nodded reluctantly.

He took the cloth back from her and tore several thin strips from it. Hunching down, he gently wrapped it around her foot. She had to grit her teeth not to cry out in pain, but she knew he was right. The swelling would become uncomfortable. She was surprised at his skilfulness with a cloth and how quickly he accomplished the task at hand.

Thank you, she whispered, and then added for everything.

He nodded, stood up and walked back to his horse. She though he was going to saddle it, climb back on and leave her alone in the cave, but he continued the task of drying the animal with the hay. Once again she could not help but be amazed by the way he cared for the animal. Every stroke he gave was with the utmost care.

The fire was warm and she could feel her body starting to relax, her teeth were no longer chattering and she became drowsy.

When he was done with the horse, he walked back to the saddle and retrieved something from it. He walked to her and she could now see the remains of something he must have cooked earlier during the day.

Have some meat—you must be starving judging by the roar of your stomach. He removed the knife from his leg and she gasped in fear. He cut a big piece off and held it out to her.

She was sure that he could hear her relief when she exhaled loudly and took the meat from him. Her hands were trembling but she tried to keep them steady, afraid that he might see how terrified she was of him.

So where are you from? she asked chewing the meat. It wasn’t as salty as the meat they prepared in the castle and she was surprised to find it tender.

Legathe, he replied but did not elaborate.

I did not know that Legathe truly exists. We were told it was just a myth…

She tried to think of the stories she heard as a child. They were grotesque and would give her nightmares—stories of betrayal, murder… . He looked at her with a frown between his eyes but she just shrugged and took another bite from the meat.

Legathe is not a myth—I can assure you! he almost spat at her.

Does that mean… are you… ? but she bit her tongue… afraid to ask.

An elf? he finished her question, seemingly irritated with her.

An Elf, yes. She confirmed.

Yes! he replied sharply, and now she knew he was upset. I am, he started, and softly continued, It is my heritage, my entire being. I am proud to be called Elf. As he spoke, he raised his voice and Leila had the feeling that she was not the first person—human—that he had to explain this to. You humans would know nothing about it! All you care about is havoc and death!

She could hear the bitterness in his voice and instantly felt sorry for asking. Then she thought about his words and before she could stop herself she blurted out, We don’t kill!

Then what are those dead bodies in the woods… dead squirrels?

She remembered the bodies in the woods. They were definitely killed but could he not have had something to do with