A tale of my "self elf"

I'm neither a role player nor a writer but one time a grab bag inspired a cryptic little tale about my "self elf" Embala (who is not an elf at all) and a canon character.

April Grab Bag 2011
hatred / the need of help / a stick / procrastination / change / dream

In a way it's the retelling of a flashback from another point of view. Someone can guess the scene in question and the identity of "my" lovemate?

Changes


FIRE. ... her world was on fire ... HOT. ... consuming her body ... GLARING. ... burning her mind ... YELLING. She turned to flee the torture ... into the darkness ahead, luring ... no more pain, promising ... no more struggle. No return.
NO!
There was another way, a small whirl of cool blue, a memory of freedom and joy ...


... she whirled around in high-spirited circles, enjoying the weightlessness in the light-flooded waters. The sunbeams made her sparkle in greens, blues and turquoise. She had explored other oceans but never before had she been a part of it, tasting it, breathing it. Another strike of her strong green tail led her amidst a shoal, causing the silvery fish to shoot apart like fireworks.

Back at the bank her lovemate was watching the carefree dance with lenience and pleasure. These new shape and abilities were his temporary gift. She reached out at him with an inviting gesture. Just when their eyes met she felt a kick in her belly, delicate but clear. She gasped in surprise ...


FIRE. Her lungs were burning, pleading for mercy. She forced air into them just to live on for another moment. Her whole body cramped in hot pain ...


... floating relaxed in his embrace her light blue strands mixed with his dark tresses. Leaning her head back on his shoulder, blue eyes locked with soft grey while their hands met on her belly, feeling the little one kick again. This was his other, precious gift. She wasn't able to receive a clear sending but she could feel his love engulfing her with warmth. And the mind-picture of a large, bridge-like structure reaching far into the sea together with his longing.

He had asked her aloud many times before. **Come with me to my home. Live with me and my tribe.** There had always been a reason not to answer - to stay here for another dance of the moon - to discover the sea beyond the next reef. Her thoughts wandered ...
Whenever she had joined a tribe, found friends and mates, there was a farewell - and it had become harder every time. It was easier to stay alone, enjoy short-time company and leave before the bonds grew too tight. But with the growing new life and her honest love ... it was time for another change.

Suddenly his hands grabbed hard for support. The warmth was gone. His eyes proved that his mind was far away ...


Back into the FIRE. To her surprise she could actually take one more breath. The heat was biting the flesh from her tail, causing more cramps. High Ones, no ... not the little one ...


The call. A call of pain and anxiety. They had followed this strange sensation for days before it suddenly vanished. But now it was back and she knew that his healer's heart would not rest before he has found the caller.

The search led them to the other side of the island, to a rocky beach. Whoever was in need for help was somewhere there. She stayed back on a rock near the shore while her lovemate approached the source of the cry. An elf maiden curled behind one of the bigger rocks ... his sending gave her a vague impression of pale, delicate limbs and a long black mane. The alien elf turned towards him ... those eyes ... radient with insanity and hatred!

**RUN, beloved, run!** The hatred was like a magical black fog that reached out and enclosed the healer. And at the same moment it hit her on the distant rock. In shock and pain she fled into the sea ... heading for the depth ... to learn in new shock that this magic had done harm. She could hardly breathe and her finned tail felt lame and aching. Struggling her way back to the surface she managed to reach low waters before her world exploded ...


Too hot, too glary, too exhausted to move ... but at least she could breathe again without falling in agony. Despite the piercing headache her mind and senses started to work again. She was lying on a shore in the sun ... so tired ... sleeping ... NO! There was danger, she just had to remember why ... the search for the call ... the alien elf. The elf maiden. She was the danger! Her magic has ... she didn't want to see again what this magic had done.

It had effected her, too. The changes - the gift of her lovemate - were gone. She could breathe, so her lungs were restored, but the tail ...? Taking all her will she managed to turn on the back and sit up, resting on her arms. The effort made her world turn around once more and she closed the eyes. At once visions of her beloved came to mind - feeding the fears what she might see on herself. A sigh of relief slipped her chapped lips when she found a pair of perfectly shaped legs ... and learned that she could move them. And there showed no blood, so it was a good chance that her child was alive and well.

She reached out for a piece of driftwood, long enough to serve as a walking stick, and struggled on her feet. She had to go away from here as fast and far as possible. The last view, the last mind picture had convinced her that nothing could be done at the moment for her beloved healer. His shape was turned into something beyond elfin and his mind twisted. And she was not in the condition to fight anyway.

There was his heritage, little Bluedepth, she had to take care for. At this very moment she felt another move inside. Not the kick of a tiny heel - more like a lash. Something was terribly wrong ...

Ohhh! I like!
Dramatic and fast pace! You can feel their panic. =D

Thank you, Shadowpath!

hmmmmm... A grim tale. I like those.

Great story! Very dramatic.

Thank you, Leanan!

A grim tale ... hmmmmm - maybe not so grim in my imagination, PC. But as it's kept cryptic by purpose I should leave interpretation to the reader!


Thanks you all for reading and commenting. That's great praise for a non-writer!

Don't worry : I'm not a writer, either.

Doesn't prevent us from writing nevertheless at times, right PC?


You can envision the protagonist of my story to your liking ...



.... or go with this visulisation caught of a relaxed, happy moment.

The "Merbala" doll is a cherished gift by Moonmoss. You are missed, my friend.