Through heavy breaths, Bronwen took stock of her situation. Her pursuers had lost her, the thicket covering her movements and providing essential cover. She rested against a large oak, looking into a small clearing, wondering what her next steps would be. Her packs had been captured by the cloaked attackers, leaving her with no food or change of clothes. A flash of childish worry burst into her head, the thought of missing her first day of university clouding her judgment.
She shook the thought off.
Looking back into the open space between the trees, the swaying ferns calmed her mind and the damp smell of moist earth from the morning rains swelled into her consciousness. And a shimmer. The sunlight caught the outline of something, something humanoid, within the space. Leaves fell from a strong gust of wind, and the smattering of shade caused the figure to glisten once more. Bronwen was sure there was something nearby.
She cleared her throat, “Umm, is anyone there?” Fully on display to the thing, she thought it best to tackle it head on.
The shimmer moved, and a hand, its form slender and elfin, emerged.
“Are you with those… people that attacked me?” Her legs strained to move, but a calming presence emanating from the clearing convinced her to remain against her better judgment.
“Bronwen of House Dyfed.” A voice echoed all around her, its source murky and undetectable.
“House Dyfed? I am Bronwen. But not of such a noble house, I’m afraid.” Bronwen felt her chest tighten, her phlegm struggling down her throat as she swallowed hard.
The shimmer fell, and a leather clad elf emerged. Her hair was tied in lengthy braids, and her wrists adorned in thin golden bangles that clattered with each movement.
“Come, Bronwen. I am a friend of your mother’s.” The elf beckoned to Bronwen, her other hand resting on the hilt of her short sword.
“I – I don’t know if I should just trust you like that. Tell me something. Something about my mother.”
The elf smiled. “Of course.” Slowly, she reached between the pads of her chest plate, pulling a monogramed patch. “This signifies my allegiance to House Dyfed.”
Bronwen strained her eyes to look at the patch. Her feet inched forward, the twigs and leaves underfoot barely crunching against the soft ground. “I recognise that. It was on my blanket.”
Today's prompt: heavy
This week's worldbuilding prompt: image prompts
If you'd like to participate too, the contest/prompts can be found here:
@mariannewest/day-1670-5-minute-freewrite-thursday-prompt-heavy
@worldbuilder/worldbuilding-prompt-279-image-prompt-glass-statues
