Toussaint left his attendant lying on the ground, groaning.
He moved through his castle, pausing momentarily to glimpse the scene beyond the window.
Orange flames as bright as sun fire licked at the tops of trees less than three miles away.
He was almost out of time. But there were still moves he could make before he lowered himself to swatting down the flies personally.
Toussaint moved quickly through the empty palace. Everyone inside had already sought out their families or friends to take shelter in light of the attack.
'Cowards, the lot of them...'
The elven king stopped just in front of a door on the other side of the palace.
He kicked the door in, and light poured into a dark cellar. Two women sat on the ground, chained to the floor.
They looked up at him, their bodies covered in sweat and signs of torture etched into their skin. Heartbreaking holes dotted their beautiful wings.
