The Hollow: At The Edge (41 page)

On the third, or
possibly forth day, he had lost count, he finally reached his
destination. It was an relatively unremarkable stone monolith,
stuck in a meadow in the middle of nowhere, marking some ancient
site of pilgrimage for some long forgotten elvish ritual. There
were places like this all over Elsbareth. It was a sign of the
times, of the corruption the Imperials were wreaking upon his home.
All of their own religions and ways were being supplanted by the
Empire.

Ghoraes huddled by the
foot of the stone out of the wind, and waited. The sky turned dark,
and yet another autumn storm lashed the countryside with unbridled
fury. He waited patiently in the rain, huddling for warmth by the
forgotten stone. He had not dressed appropriately for the weather.
He was starting to grow a layer of fur over his body, but frankly
it was coming along a little too slow to be of any use. And though
he hated to admit it, it made him look... weird. Claws and fangs
were one thing, but fur? Nobody liked body hair.

The only thing he had
brought with him was the package. It was only a medium sized pouch
that jangled with a metallic ringing noise when he shook it.
Curiosity had overcome him on the journey, and he had not resisted
taking a peek. It was disappointing, however. The pouch only
contained a bunch of old, metal keys of various designs. Still, the
Master wanted them, and he was not going to disappoint the
Master.

Night fell, the rain
abated, the stars came out. Still he waited. But in the lonely
solitude, he began to think about his old life, for the first time
in a long time. He wondered... Could things have been different?
Could he have had a normal life, without this? Without the Master,
and the Ferine?

He could have given up
his foolish dreams of being a sorcerer. Before, he had thought it
was the greatest thing ever, but now, being what he was, he saw
things with more clarity. He never would have amounted to anything,
the path he had been on. He would have had to quit the weaving
lessons, gotten a real job. Maybe then, he could have met a nice
girl, and settled down. Lived a nice quiet life...

And worn the yoke of
the Empire, until the day he faded away and became nothing. Not
even a forgotten stone monolith to mark he had ever been in the
world.

No. That wasn’t the
life he wanted. He wanted to be a true elf. He wanted to die free,
and return to the earth knowing he could be reborn. He wanted to
make the world better.

His patience paid off.
Ghoraes stood up when he heard the sound of great wings beating in
the sky. He went out to meet his Master, and find his true
destiny.

About the
Author
:

Andrew Day lives in
Brisbane, Australia. His hobbies include writing, avoiding direct
sunlight, and coming up with ill-conceived plans for world
domination.

You can contact him at:
[email protected]

Also by the
Author:

The Hollow

Loss and Sacrifice

Shreiber and Tome:
Unlucky Vamps

Vessels