A whistle of air—you wouldn't think such a sound so deadly, but it is, Iris thought, as she held her bow down. Her face turned slightly from the small amount of daylight warmth. A speeding thin wooden shaft with a broad head landed with a thud into an oak load-bearing wall.
"These people mean business." Her bow creaked as she raised it, while slowly drawing back the string.
A young man gulped. "Are you going to fight?"
"I have no choice. That arrow is a broadhead, an arrowhead meant to penetrate." She moved away from the glassless window. Her feet crisscrossed. The dark wooden floor creaked as she stepped. Iris's shoulders hunched. She kept her head low.
"I need your help. My name is Thomas, and I must speak to the elves about aiding my kingdom." He eyed the dark-skinned, curly brown-haired elf.
"Why are you bringing this up now?" Iris sighed. "This is not the time." She shot the fair-skinned man a quick look before diverting her attention elsewhere.
Another arrow whistled through a corner of the window. She dodged, dropping her bow and rolling to the right. A thud echoed. Where Iris once stood, there lay an arrow lodged into the floor.
"Because it is paramount you hear me, my kingdom needs aid!"
"So, therefore, the elves must help you?" Her brow lifted for a second before fading to neutral.
"I promise we are not like other humans. We do not hold the same harmful notions. We are good, yet they still resent and rebuff us," said Thomas.
"So, are you going to come back with an army to burn our villages when your kingdom burns? Hunt down our people, enslave us, not to mention verbally trash us, because you cannot achieve your way." She quickly rolled over to her bow. Iris's right hand grabbed the first arch of her weapon. She stood, then bent down to pick up her arrow. She strung it to the bow and aimed at Thomas.
His eyes widened. He held his hands up. "But I am a good person!"
"It was never about you to begin with, but you made it about you, made it my problem. Look at you trembling like a coward. Why should I show you goodwill? Why should I allow a man like you into the villages?"
"I have never done anything wrong. I am a good man," Thomas refuted, his body trembling. "If I have to, I can draw my blade."
"You keep saying you are good, that you are not like the others. Yet, you spout injustice and insults toward us because the elves will not trust you. They have no reason to." Iris drew the bow back further. She ignored the incoming whistle and did not turn away as the arrow swished past, scraping her long ears and cheek. It drew thick lines of blood before the arrow ended in another wooden wall.
"But my words and I have not once insulted the elves. I think it is just nonsensical for them to turn every human away," said Thomas.
"Not yet! And your action reeks human!" Iris aimed at his chest, thinking his thick metal armor might pose a problem at this distance.
"I shouldn't be compared to the others. I am different." He stood, gritting his teeth. He eyed various parts of the female elf in front of him---a ranger elf, not from these parts. This woman has darker skin than most of the elven populace around here. Her thick-hide boots and fur-lined tunic suggest she is from a colder climate. His eyes darted down to his sword.
"How are you different? How are the elves supposed to know? You made yourself a nuisance with your attitude. What you are saying to them is that I am different; therefore, you must believe me. Disregard the things you heard, the things you saw, and the things that were done to you. They know you did not personally hurt them. As I said, it was never about you. You made it about you," Iris said darkly.
"I did not!" Thomas's eyes and brow lifted.
"You did! The elves are not obligated to help you because you say you are different. We are not obligated to trust you, to value your existence because you think it should be done," said Iris.
"It isn't proper to hold things against someone you do not know, just because they are the same race," Thomas shouted at her.
"Before I release this arrow, convince me why you should be spared." Iris closed one eye.
"The bandits outside," said Thomas.
"Are aiming for both of us," Iris rebutted.
"You have a limited set of arrows, and I can use a blade." A slowly dripping drop of sweat rolled down his face.
"Blade versus arrow. My arrow is already set to be released." Iris sounded calm.
"We do not know how many bowmen there are." Thomas gulped.
Iris drew her bow back once more, pulling the string tighter.
"It would be murder." Thomas could hear his heart pounding. He could almost jump in rhythm with how close the beating felt against his chest.
"Would it?" She tilted her head but sounded uninterested.
"I apologize for my actions. Perhaps you can help me understand why they reject my pleas." Thomas squeezed his eyelids tightly. He shifted his hands behind him. They pressed tightly against the wall.
Iris lowered her bow. She spun around.
"It is their fortitude."
"What." Thomas's eyes shot open.
"They do not have the mental strength to face the possibilities in what you could do or what your enemies will do to them." Iris moved, dropping her shoulders. She kept her bow lowered.
"Come on out, elf and nobleman," a bandit yelled into the window.
"No thanks," said Iris.
"I'll burn this place down!" replied the same bandit.
"And I'll burn with it." Iris turned her attention to Thomas. "I'm Iris, a traveling elf." She found a table out of the bandit's line of sight. Iris placed her arrow back in its quiver. She then maneuvered her bow around her shoulder.
"She speaks for herself," Thomas yelled.
Iris bent her head with closed eyes. She slowly raised her chin. "By all means, turn yourself over to them."
Thomas's thick brows furrowed. "I am not that dumb."
"Then what do you suppose we do?" She adjusted her bow and then sat on the end of the dark cherry table.
"Work together to find a solution," said Thomas. His hand moved to hold his chin.
"I saw some flour sacks. Perhaps we could start a fire in here before they do. Then escape out a different exit." Iris moved her bow from her shoulder to hold in front of herself.
"I am a bit surprised that they have not already come from behind." He rubbed his chin a few times.
"A window may be on the upper floor," said Iris.
"That could work. Then will you help me reach the elves in a different village?" Thomas removed his hand from his chin and held it out to her.
"Will you let me do the talking?"
"If it helps me."
"It will. But because I speak, they might still feel their traumas against the humans are validated." She stood while placing the bow on her back. Iris walked over. Once she reached Thomas, she held out her hand. They clasped around each other's forearm.
"I suppose we should get out of this situation first." Thomas raised and lowered their arms three times.