Chapter 17: Rival Territory

Beneath the blistering sun, a solitary village made its stand amidst the vast expanse of a sprawling sand dune, a testament to resilience against the unforgiving desert.

At the heart of the village stood a majestic, broken, and withered tree. Its slender, stick-like branches offered a sliver of shade and a brief respite from the relentless heat. Yet, on the side untouched by the tree's shadow, Herris's head emerged from the sandy ground, vulnerable and exposed to the harsh desert sky.

"How many times do I have to tell you idiots. Let me speak to your tribe chief. Hear me out, if you wish to surv…" 

Herris's plea was abruptly cut off as a dark-skinned elf flung a bucketful of sand at his face.

"COUGH!" Herris choked, sand dust invading his mouth and stinging his eyes. Worse still, he was gradually being entombed by the relentless onslaught of sand.

Undeterred, Herris continued in a menacing tone, 

"Ignorant fools, as I've said before. I can give you what you want. Let me speak to your chief." 

A week had passed since his arrival at this destination. Upon his arrival, he was swiftly apprehended and held captive. Herris submitted without resistance, for he needed these people for his scheme.

Herris attempted to clarify his intentions, but to them, he was a Wise Elf, a species synonymous with their adversaries. These dark-skinned elves, known as Warrior Elves, inhabited the north. They had been at odds with the Wise Elves since their inception, neither side willing to yield or associate with the other.

Thus, regardless of Herris's pleas, they remained deaf to his words. Their only reason for sparing his life was the wolf that accompanied him. They feared that if Herris were to be killed, the wolf would retaliate and wreak havoc on their village. Therefore, they kept Herris alive until they could devise a plan to eliminate the wolf.

Meanwhile, Wilson the Wolf had yet to make a move, adhering to Herris's command not to assault the Warrior Elves. As per his instructions, Wilson patiently waited outside the village, feasting on birds.

"Fellow Elves, please let me speak to your tribe chief. This is really important. It…" "

Before Herris could finish his sentence, the warrior elf silenced him with a bucket of sand.

A single Warrior Elf, more robust and muscular than his tribesmen, was assigned to oversee Herris. This Elf was under orders to prevent Herris from finishing his sentences.

After a week of futile attempts to communicate and with his patience dwindling, Herris realized he couldn't reveal his intentions to a mere servant, doubting this Elf would relay his message to the chief. Thus, Herris decided to resort to his contingency plan.

"WHISTLE!" Herris whistled, a faint sound escaping his lips, but it was sufficient.

"AHHH…" The Elf let out a terrified scream, witnessing Wilson charging towards Herris with murderous intent.

Wilson thundered through the village's core, each footfall resonating with such intensity that it sent a wave of fear through the elves, causing the ground to tremble beneath them.

The villagers, ensnared by dread, scrambled towards their humble abodes, devoid of doors, seeking refuge from the impending threat. The elf assigned to torment Herris abandoned his bucket and took flight, his terror evident as he sprinted for safety.

Now looming over Herris, Wilson bent down and began to excavate the sand with an unexpected delicacy, striving to liberate Herris from his sandy prison.

"I should have done this at the beginning. Trying non-violence for their peaceful response is a pure waste of time." 

Herris grumbled as Wilson cleared enough sand for him to wriggle free and clamber out of the pit.

Brushing off his clothes, Herris stood tall, pointed towards a robust stone house, the only structure with a door, and flicked his fingers, signaling Wilson to seize their target.

Like a bolt of lightning, Wilson charged towards the house, shattering the feeble wooden door in his path.

"AHHHH…" A chorus of terrified screams reverberated within the house as Wilson emerged, an elf dangling from his jaws, and dragged him into the open.

"Unhand me! You insolent beast." 

The elf seethed with fury, his hands flailing in a futile attempt to grasp something, anything.

Wilson released the elf at Herris's feet. Herris scrutinized the dark-skinned elf with fiery orange eyes—the only one garbed in a full-length dress.

The elf was clad in a white, threadbare robe that adhered to his gaunt figure, threatening to rip apart at any sudden movement. The robe bore the signs of age and wear, indicating its long tenure on his body.

His body was skeletal, devoid of the muscle or strength to fill out the garment. Beneath his dark, almost ghostly skin, the faint silhouette of his translucent bones was eerily visible, rendering him a living specter.

Herris clucked his tongue in distaste, the elf's pitiful state evoking painful memories from his past.

"Identify yourself! What brings you to our village?" 

The elf attempted to rise, but his sprained legs, courtesy of Wilson's rough handling, and his feeble hands failed to hoist his weary body.

Swallowing hard, Herris felt a pang of sorrow at the elf's condition and his lifeless eyes. He knelt before him, revealing in a serene tone, 

"I will bring you the world tree's essence." 

"By the Spirits' Grace. Can this be true!" 

The elf's face twitched in shock, a faint smile gracing his lips at Herris's words, only to quickly fade, replaced by skepticism. He found it hard to trust the words of a Wise Elf, the very reason for the Warrior Elves' current plight.

To convince them of his sincerity and assure them that he alone could be their salvation, Herris declared in a resolute tone, 

"I am no longer a Wise Elf. I'm a traitor that killed their Elder Sage and I'm here for refuge but don't worry I won't stay here for free. I offer the World Tree's Essence as recompense."

"How can we trust you!" The elf shot back, his doubt towards Herris unwavering.

Herris offered a wry smile, his words laced with mockery,

"You are a tribe chief and your job is to protect your tribe. You failed at your job." 

Rising to his full height, Herris bellowed,

"Come outside, faceless ones!"

"AWOOO!" Wilson's roar echoed Herris's command, prompting the elves to emerge, not due to Herris's words, but out of concern for their tribe chief. They had been stealing glances and peering through the cracks of their dwellings until now.

They quickly formed a circle around the scene, their worried eyes fixed on their tribe chief, while their glares bore into Herris with hostility.

"Warrior Elves…" Herris chuckled, his words dripping with sarcasm,

"I see no warriors here, only souls awaiting a peaceful death." 

Pivoting, Herris gestured towards the tree, his voice resolute,

"You all remember, this humble tree was once the mighty World Tree that graced the barren land. A lush forest with cascading waterfalls that painted rainbows across the sky. You were brave hunters, felling thousands of wolves."

His gaze swept over the elves as he continued,

"Now, look at yourselves, unable to fend off a single wolf. Aren't you tired of being the one always wounded and in pain?"

A heavy silence fell over the area, heads bowed, no one able to respond to Herris's words. Rather than anger, Herris felt a pang of pity.

'These elves have tried and failed countless times to reclaim their tree's essence, only to be brutally defeated. Of course, they don't have any strength to fight back, but I need them to fight for me, for my plan to succeed.'

Approaching the tree, Herris drew back his fist and struck the tree with all his might, causing everyone to look up. Herris then declared,

"I'm done being the one always looked down upon. I offer you a choice - either assist me in obtaining the World Tree's essence or I will retrieve the essence and plant it here over your dead bodies." 

"We will… We will aid you." The tribe chief responded, despite his pain, he managed to rise and plead,

"We too are weary of waiting for death. I yearn to fight back, to show them that they may have stolen our World Tree, but not our bravery and courage." 

The Chief struggled to approach Herris, stumbling and nearly falling, but Wilson quickly lent him support. With a faint smile, the chief, aided by Wilson, made his way to Herris and implored,

"I no longer care that you hail from our enemy's ranks. I entrust the hopes of my ancestors and my entire species to you. Please, deliver us from this plight."

[End of Chapter]