Chapter 22 – First Fangs Against Elves
---
That morning, the forest felt unnaturally still.
Altair crouched near a snare, ears twitching. Light steps… too light for humans.
He sniffed the air. A faint floral fragrance lingered. His eyes narrowed. Elves.
---
Through the mist, six figures emerged. Slender, graceful, long-eared. Their movements precise, their weapons gleaming in the dim light.
Each bore a bow, a spear, or a thin-bladed sword. Their emerald eyes swept the forest with predator's calm.
"Human tracks end here," whispered one.
"No, look—the blood. But it reeks of goblins too."
They exchanged glances. "Impossible. Goblins can't kill men. Let's investigate."
---
Altair rushed back to the cave.
"Elves," he growled. Panic rippled instantly—goblins trembled, some whimpered. To them, elves were hunters, the natural predators of goblins.
"Silence!" Altair barked. His glare froze them. "If they find us scattered, we're already dead. Listen well!"
He jabbed a claw at Kael, Kyren, Davj, Varz. "Front line—spears ready."
To others: "Dig the second pitfall. Haul stones onto the ridge."
To his hybrids: "Arden, signal. Lyra, pull the rope. Silas, tighten the snare. Neriah, break their sight."
Tiny heads nodded, pale but determined.
---
The elves stepped into the narrow path. Arden tapped once. Tak!
The ground gave way. Two elves plunged waist-deep into a pit. Lyra heaved the rope—stones crashed from above, crushing one in screams.
But the rest reacted instantly. Arrows whistled—two goblins fell. A blade flashed, shearing crude spears in half.
"These goblins—traps?!" one elf snarled, startled.
---
Altair lunged, stone blade striking sparks against an elven sword. Though smaller, he slipped among roots and shadows, his attacks vicious.
Kael and Kyren clashed with a spear-wielding elf, their arms shredded by cuts but holding long enough for Davj to stab weakly at his side.
Silas pulled a snare tight—an elf toppled, trapped. Neriah darted through the smoke, knocking down a torch, shrouding the fight.
Seizing the moment, Altair leapt on the ensnared elf, raking his throat open. Blood sprayed, the elf collapsed lifeless.
---
The fight ended brutally swift. Four elves lay dead.
But seven goblins were slain, three more writhed in pain, near death.
Two elves escaped into the woods, bloodied but breathing.
Altair stood among corpses, panting, his chest heaving. They're sharper, faster… more disciplined than men. If more come, we'll be crushed.
He raised his voice. "You see? Our enemies aren't just men. Elves are coming—and they are far stronger!"
Goblins shuddered, but in their fear was also awe.
---
Meanwhile, the two surviving elves stumbled toward the forest's edge, faces pale, blood dripping.
"We must report," one gasped.
"Yes. Goblins that… fought in formation. With signals… with traps."
They exchanged a horrified look. "This is not normal. The Queen must hear."
---
#wanD48