Hale was completely frozen, the sharp point pressing against his nape feeling very much like a blade. His first thought was a T. rex tooth, then he dismissed it. He didn't hear any thunderous footsteps or guttural roar. As his imagination spun, a voice broke through, something he never expected to hear in a world of dinosaurs.
"What's an Aenvari rat doing squirming here alone? Speak, coward-blood, before I carve your spine from your back." The voice was feminine, rough, the kind born on the front lines.
Hale's heart skipped. Was that Speech? That meant intelligence. He wasn't alone here. But wait—Aenvari rat? Did she just call him a rat? Holy hell, was it some beast-woman behind him?
"Answer me." The blade jabbed harder, making him wince.
"I…I'm not a rat. I was just washing my face in the stream. Could you maybe take that thing off me, and we talk face-to-face like civilized people?" Hale stammered.
"Civilized?" She barked out a laugh. "Do you take me for some soft-bellied whore? Answer me true or I'll feed your guts to the beasts, Aenvari filth."
Aenvari this, Aenvari that, Aenvari your mom. He had enough of her Aenvari nonsense. With a sudden jerk forward, he spun around and looked behind at whatever Aenvari bitch was there, and his mind short-circuited for a second.
It wasn't a beast at all but a woman; taller than him, with muscles like a trained warrior. Her hair was platinum blonde, one side shaved, the other falling over part of her face. Black tattoos snaked across her pale skin, running from her face down her neck and arms in sharp geometric patterns. Her outfit was little more than rugged wraps and hides, practical and barbaric. She was looking at him like he was a dead man.
Hale didn't know what happened next. All he caught was a blur, the world spinning, and—
thud!
"Ahhhh…" Hale groaned, his face flat against the ground with that barbaric woman on top of him.
She pinned his hands behind his back and began tying them with some kind of rope.
"What are you doing, woman? Why are you attacking a fellow human? Just because you've got more muscles doesn't mean you can manhandle me like this!" Hale protested, his bullshittery in full swing.
The woman ignored him completely and slipped two fingers into her mouth, letting out a sharp whistle.
Fweeeeeeeet!
A shrill note cut through the forest air.
Nothing happened right after the whistle, but then Hale caught movement in the bushes across the stream.
Out stepped a rugged-looking man, distinct in every way. His fiery orange hair and beard were thick and unruly, a single long braid hanging over his right shoulder, tied with a dark band. The sides of his head were shaved, revealing intricate tattoos. He wore a sleeveless fur garment, the kind that screamed wild and primal.
The man's gaze flicked from Hale to the woman who was now sitting on top of him after tying him up.
"What do you have there, Freka?"
"An Aenvari rat," Freka replied with a sneer. "They love parading themselves as the intelligent ones, calling us Drakthar barbarians. But this one's dumber than a rock."
"I TOLD YOU, I'M NOT A RAT! FOR FUCK'S SAKE, WHAT THE HELL IS AN AENVARI? Is that shit edible?" Hale was losing his mind. First dinosaurs, now talking tattooed gorillas that couldn't understand a damn word and kept calling him a rat.
"Oh? Then tell me, scum," Freka pressed, "which tribe do you come from?"
Ahh…What am I supposed to say? Hogwarts? Hale thought.
Freka smirked. "No answer, rat? Gonna say you're one of us now?"
Hale shook his head. "No, I… uh… I'm from a small tribe called Narnia."
Freka tilted her head, frowning. "Narnia?"
"Yes. We have a lion, four kids that got yeeted into Narnia, and had to cover our asses," Hale replied.
"I ain't never seen or heard of a tribe called Narnia. Stop yapping lies, rat," Freka snapped, her voice sharp and jagged.
A nerve pulsed at Hale's forehead. "Is that so? Then… does your tribe believe in gods or worship anyone?"
Freka snorted, voice like gravel. "God? Bah! We only honor our dead, give tribute to our ancestors."
"Ah… then have you seen your ancestors, Miss Freka?"
"Seen 'em? Ha! They were dead before I crawled out of my ma's womb, dumb Aenvari."
"I see… but you still believe, even though you haven't seen them, huh? So my Narnia tribe, unknown to you, is perfectly normal. If you've never seen your own ancestors, how do you know the magnificence of my tribe? We've got a lion at home, ya hear, half-bald head?"
"Kakaka…" The orange-haired man laughed, a deep, rumbling sound, like a beast unleashed.
"What the fuck you cacklin' at, Brom? Go search the surroundings, see if more rats be skulk'n close. I will drag this one from Aenv—hah, Narnia…back to camp. Blood-Daughter be the one to decide his fate," Freka growled, eyes hard on Hale.
Brom grunted, his face twisting. "Blood-Daughter? Bah, the whelp won't last a night if she lays eyes on him."
Freka bared her teeth in a grin. "Then so be it. We ride under her banner for this mission, so the rat goes to her. Maybe she'll squeeze some truth from his lying tongue."
"Fine," Brom spat. "I'll check the wild while you haul the boy to camp." He then turned back to search the area.
Hale just lay there, clueless about what to say. Blood-daughter? What the hell… was she a cannibal?
Freka gave Hale a sweet smile, which only made him more uneasy. She then pulled out a blowpipe and leveled it at him.
"Sleep tight, Narnian scum. You'll need it."
"Wha—oww!" Before he could finish, she blew into the pipe, and a dart lodged in his skin. Within moments, his vision blurred, and he went under. Freka hefted him over her shoulder like a sack of grain and started walking, headed to god knows where.
* * *
Hale groaned. His sleeping position was uncomfortable, but at least his head felt like it was resting on a pillow. Slowly, he opened his eyes. The surroundings were dark, with dim light filtering through the ceiling of what looked like a wooden house. In front of him were metal bars, like a cage. It didn't take long for him to realize he was probably in some kind of prison.
As his groggy mind tried to catch up, he felt something like a finger, poking at his cheek. Hale turned his head toward the sensation and found himself staring into a pair of bright amber eyes.
It was a girl. Dark-skinned, with white hair and slightly pointed ears. She was grinning at him like she found the situation amusing.
"Hehe… hello there, traveler. Did you enjoy my lap pillow? Had a comfortable sleep?"
"Eh…" Hale turned his head quickly and noticed his head had been resting on her lap the whole time. He immediately tried to sit up, only to fail because his arms were bound, which made him lose his balance.
"Whoa, whoa…easy there! I was just kidding," she laughed, steadying him and helping him sit upright against the wooden wall.
"haaaa…" Hale groaned. It felt like his head was splitting with a migraine.
"Where am I?" he asked.
"You won't believe this… we're in the royal palace of the Drakthars, guests at their blood-daughter's wedding party," the girl said, grinning mischievously.
Hale's face went blank. A palace? This cage? "Are you messing with me?"
"Hahaha… your fa-ha… face…" she started laughing, using her bound hands to wipe the tears streaming down from laughing so hard.
Hale stared at her, still processing. "What are you? Some kind of dark elf?"
"Haa… ha… not quite. Dark elves are stuff of legends. I'm only a descendant of them… well, we believe we are," she said.
Then suddenly, she leaned in close, her lips nearly brushing his. Hale yanked his head back in surprise. "Wha… what are you doing?"
"You're peculiar… hmm, really peculiar," she murmured, inspecting his face closely. She nodded to herself and returned to her spot.
"Ah… how so?" Hale asked, moving slightly away from her. She made him feel… uneasy.
"Well… both the Aenvari like you and the Drakthars hate us Nyxari, treating us like some cursed, ugly species. So you not showing any disgust or discomfort while talking to me… that's peculiar. Did you just crawl out of some cave or something?" she tilted her head, clearly enjoying the situation.
Hale's lips twitched at the mention of Aenvari again. "I'm not Aenvari," he replied, "I don't even know what that is. I'm from a tribe called..ah-Narnia… it's far away from here."
She looked puzzled. "Eh…Narnia?"
"Yeah… you probably haven't heard of it since it's far away. See my clothes? I bet you've never seen anything like this," Hale said, somehow feeling smug.
"Hmm… truly. Even the Aenvari don't wear clothes like these," she said, moving closer and running her fingers over the fabric of his turtleneck.
Hale, still confused and wanting answers about his situation—why there were humans here, and now a so-called dark elf descendant in a world of dinosaurs…asked, "So… can you tell me where I am, and what is this Aenvari, and—"
Before he could finish, the sound of the wooden door creaking open echoed through the room. A woman entered, and Hale squinted against the sudden burst of light.
The silhouette of the woman looked like a gym bro who had overdone it on protein powder. Hale silently hoped this one had a better personality than the side-shaved girl who had too much ego.