"Tytus!"   

Danticus lurched up from where he was lying, or at least tried to. Confusion settled across his face. He was tied down to a table, though loosely. Whoever had tied him down did so quickly, and without thought. He wriggled his arms, and the ropes easily slipped off. He sat up and felt his chest, where he had been stabbed. In place of what he expected to be open wounds were instead scars that seemed to be years healed. He realized he was naked and lying atop a table, covered only with a loincloth. An orange firelight glowed from a hallway and shadows danced on the walls. He stood up from the table and reached for the sword at his waist only to realize it wasn't there.

Danticus felt uneasy, and looked around for his gear. He searched the wardrobes, dressers and chests, which were all surprisingly functioning. He found an old pair of cloth and leather pants, which he strapped on. He slowly followed the orange fire light down the hallway, cautious of whatever he may encounter. He came across a door and took the knob in his hand. He gave it a twist, but the damn thing was locked. He cursed under his breath and kept on down the hallway.

"How do you know? He may not be," he heard someone say from behind the locked door. The voice sounded like a female.

"I just do. He's a man. Men are vicious, irrational. Nothing good has come from them. It's been that way for as long as I can remember," he heard a second voice say. This one he registered as a male, an older one at that.

"But uncle, what if he's not. What if they've changed! How are you so sure we're the only ones left?"

"Believe me, Aryanne...I just know..."

The sound of a door bursting open came from inside the room.

"He's gone!" Said another male voice. This one had youth to it.

"What?!" Said the first male voice. "How? When? You were supposed to be watching him!"

"I stepped away for a minute! How was I to know the dead man would get up and walk around!" Said the young voice.

"He's not dead. I healed him, like I did the other one," said the female voice.

"Whatever the case, just find him! Valyn, look outside the barricade, but stay on guard. Aryanne, look within the rest of our respite. Just hurry please, before he finds his weapons. Who knows what he'll do when he finds them."

"Yes uncle," they both said. Danticus heard footsteps approaching the door he was listening through. He panicked and quickly backed away, hiding behind the door as it opened. As she closed it, he grabbed the woman from behind, cupping his hand over her mouth and wrapping his other arm over hers. He dragged her around into where he had awoken as she struggled to break free.

Danticus went close to her ear, and whisperers quietly as he could. "I'm going to let you go. I promise, I don't want to harm you. I just want to speak with you. Nod if you understand."

She slowly did so and he released her. She quickly scurried away from him, and her panic faded. She studied him with eyes full of curiosity as he did to her. Her skin was a porcelain shade of white, paler than any skin he had ever seen before. Her hair was long and black, reaching her lower waist in the form of a braid. Her eyes were a deep, golden color, almost orange. Between her golden eyes was a small, pointy nose. She was covered in grimy, tattered clothing, what once seemed to be robes fit for a noblewoman. The more Danticus studied her, the more her beauty became apparent. She had a naïve, innocent look in her eyes, and they reminded him of his own.

"What's your name?" He asked.

She didn't answer for several moments. Finally she said "Aryanne," her voice smooth and silky, with a strange accent he'd never heard.

"That's a pretty name. My name is-" he caught something from behind her hair. Her ears. They were pointed and rather large. They came up just above her head, and poked out from her hair. His eyes widened and shivers ran down his back as he came to a sudden realization.

"You're...you're an elf..." he said, struggling to remember the term.

"And you're a man," she said.

"Yes...I am...and my name is Danticus. What, what...happened to me...I can't...I don't understand."

She stared at him. "You were dead." Her hand began to glow and a pale, golden light shown from her palm. Wisps of golden streaks danced around her hand, flowing between her fingers. "And I healed you."

Danticus' jaw hung and it was all he could do to keep from rubbing his eyes in wonderment.  

"You...you can use..." he struggled to think of the term. He knew very little about the elven race, or the time before man.

"Magic," she said. "A gift not many elves were bestowed with. My uncle tells me we're the only ones left."

Danticus struggled with his words and thoughts. "I uh... I'm sorry. I hate to be the one to tell you, but...it's true. I don't know exactly how or why, but...I'm sorry."

She looked down and stared ay the floor. She let out a sigh and stared back into Danticus' eyes.

"I had hoped my uncle was wrong about...about all of it... but I suppose he isn't." Steps came down from the hall, and Danticus and Aryanne both stood.

"It's my brother," she said. "Let me do the talking."

"Aryanne, have you found-" The figure stopped in the doorway. His golden eyes immediately shot towards Danticus. His hands turned a light blue.

"Aryanne...back away from him." he said.

"Valyn, it's okay. He's not a threat."

"You know what Uncle has said about men..."

"He's not like what Uncle has said."

"His kind slaughtered our family! Our mother and our father!" Valyn yelled. His words didn't sound his own, rather like something he came to believe.

Danticus cautiously cleared bis throat, and spoke up. "Listen, Valyn, I assure you-"

"You don't get to speak! The only reason you're alive is because I wanted to kill you myself, instead of letting the Scrag kill you like he did the others."

"Valyn, stop it! You're acting like he personally killed our father."

Valyn grew quiet. He silently glared at Danticus. The blue tint in his hand faded and his eyes loosened up.

"What is your name?" He said, breaking the silence.

"Danticus."

"Well...Danticus...if you try anything...I will kill you where you stand."

Aryanne scowled at him. She turned back to meet Danticus' eyes.

"I'll bring you some of your attire so you may wear something more comfortable. But your...your um...I can't think of the word. What you use to fight?"

"My weapons?"

"Yes. They must stay hidden. My uncle was very firm about that."

"I understand," said Danticus. "May I meet this uncle of yours?"

"If you wish. Although, I should warn you. He hates men."

"And that's putting it kindly," said Valyn.

Aryanne shrugged. "Come, he's down this hall."

They made their way down the familiar hallway to the previously locked door. Aryanne opened it and the duo followed.

"Uncle?"

Her uncle raised his head up from the paper he was reading. He had the features Aryanne and Valyn had, the black hair and golden eyes. His hair was long and to his shoulders. Scars and shallow wrinkles littered his face accompanied by a small, trimmed beard.

"We found the man. He's awake, and promises not hurt us. He wanted to meet you."

The uncle smirked. "And what is your name, man."

"I'm Danticus. Danticus Stormwell."

"Hello Danticus. My name is Tyren Levell. You're lucky to be alive."

*****

(Thanks for reading, and I'd love to know what you think! Sound off in the comments! Your feedback is always appreciated!)