The other day I was scrolling through Pinterest, and I found the prompt above. Well, my imagination sparked, and I started writing a short story. I’m not finished with it, but here is the first part. Be sure to tell me what you think in the comments.

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The darkness surrounding me didn’t change as I opened my eyes. Where am I? There was cold stone underneath my cheek, biting my skin. I moved and felt a sharp pain on my head. My fingers brushed against it, feeling a small bump. Rope dug into my wrists. Where am I? Sitting up, I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dark. The room I was in was small with only a single, metal door. 

Where am I? The question bounced around inside my head. I thought hard trying to remember. 

I recalled coming across a group of humans while patrolling the forest’s edge. Those pests had nets and were ready for anything that would cross their path. I had fallen from the sky, tangled in a net. I must have landed hard. That would explain the bruise. I scowled. They would pay for this.

I tried moving my wings. They were rather large, usually dragging behind me when I walked, and covered in feathers. With the wings, I could travel high into the sky. I tried to stretch them to their full length, but they would not move. They were encased in a net. I scowled. Those humans have taken away my one defense. 

I stood, but the ropes bound to my wrists hindered any further movement. I pulled with all my might, but they wouldn’t budge. 

“Don’t bother.” 

The gentle voice startled me. My head swung around, searching for the source. My eyes landed in a girl, not much younger than me, sitting across from the room. Her wrists were bound like mine. 

“I already tried.” She sounded very weak. 

I studied her closer. Even in the dark I could see her bruised eyes and the blood on her wrists. Who is she? A criminal? Or someone from the forest? 

The girl lifted her hands. “If you keep pulling you’ll only get cut.” 

Sitting back against the wall, I watched the girl closely. She sat curled up curled against the corner, her arms wrapped around her. 

“How long have you been in here?” I asked gently. 

The girl looked up at me. “A few months. They believed my mother was an Elf. So they put me in here.” Her voice was sad. 

A half-elf? 

“Was she? An Elf?”

The silence lasted so long I wondered if she would respond. 

“I barely knew her.” 

The answer was vague, but I didn’t push. If she was half-elf she might not want anyone to know. 

“Why are you in here?” 

“Let’s just say humans don’t like my people.” I replied. 

The girl sighed. “That seems to be the main problem these days.” 

She was referring to the Purge, as some called it. I simply called it war. The humans decided the world was not big enough for any race but their own. Elves, fairies, centaurs, dwarves, giants. Any the humans deemed unworthy. Many wanted to fight including my people the feys, but the humans outnumber us. Our people hid in a vast forest to protect ourselves against the human threat. 

The girl shifted, wincing as she did so. What other injuries did she have? 

“I am Dain. What is your name?” 

Her head moved. “Alvina.” 

Alvina. An old elvish name. Perhaps she is half-elf. Her mother would have to be from one of the old houses to know that name. 

Outside, chains rattled and voices floated through the door. I stood, my fists clenching ready for a fight. Alvina shrunk back against the wall, trying to disappear. She was terrified. She looked so helpless. My protective instincts kicked in. She’d been hurt enough.

Voices came from behind the door. 

“Watch the bird. He’s a strong one.” 

Bird? They had the audacity to call me a bird. My anger boiled, my hatred for these people growing. 

The door opened, and two men stepped inside. They approached Alvina first, grabbing the ropes tied to her wrists. They pulled her towards the door. Several men approached me. I wanted to fight, but I also wanted to protect Alvina. She needs my help. 

One of the men grabbed my rope and pulled me towards the door after Alvina. I didn’t fight, which seemed to surprise them. As we left the cell, I kept my eyes open for any chance to escape. They would not hold me captive for long.

The guards lead us down several halls and out into a large courtyard. Above the sky was grey in the evening light. The walls of the small fortress hindered my view. I noticed a few treetops, but nothing beyond that. How close are we to the Sanctuary? To the forest? 

A few people walked around the courtyard, the women in long poofy dresses and the men in tight coats and jackets. Only the guards wore armor. How did they fight in those fancy clothes? How did they protect themselves?

A few other soldiers walked around leading other prisoners towards waiting carts and teams of horses. I counted two elves, a dwarf and a half-giant. I quickly counted the guards. Sixteen. We could take them. 

Alvina walked beside me, her sad eyes cast on her feet. I got a better chance to study her. Her dirty, blond hair was in a loose braid down her back. The skirt of her worn dress was torn in a few places and her feet were bare. She was limping, and I noticed a few other cuts and bruises. The blood in her wrists was dry. 

Her steps faltered. I grabbed her arm to keep her steady. She looked up at me, and her eyes widened when she noticed my wings. 

As I turned my attention back to the path, I became aware of the small crowd that was gathering. Their eyes fell on me. People whispered to each other. I kept my head held high. I would not let them see me break. My pride would not allow it. 

A man in a dark suit approached the guards who were leading us to the cart. 

My eyes met Alvina’s. Beautiful green eyes stared back at mine. I was lost in their beauty. Bruises covered her soft cheeks and there was a scrape on her chin. She was almost as tall as me and thin, a little too thin. 

I leaned close. “Stay close to me.” 

She gave a slight nod. 

Alvina’s eyes flicked past me and fear sparked within them. A fist collided with my face, sending me to the ground. The ropes around my wrists pulled, and I felt the skin break, blood trickling down my wrists. I tried to focus on the voices as I struggled to my feet. 

“Come one, let’s see them. Put on a show.” 

I got to my feet, and my eyes fell upon a man who looked wealthier than the rest. A few backed away from him. Alvina shrunk back, her fingers curling around my arm. 

“Duke Bailey, I have orders to get these two to the mines.” The guard said, gesturing back at us. 

“I do not care, Captain. I would like to see the bird’s wings.” 

The Captain nodded and motioned to two of his men. “Make sure he’s tied to something secure.” 

The guards grabbed my arms and wrestled me to the ground. I tried to fight. Someone punched my cheek. I fought until I felt the net around my wings begin to loosen. I froze, waiting for the net to come off. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alvina being held by another guard. She watched me, her eyes filled with fear and… was that wonder. Had she ever seen a fey before?

The guards forced me to my feet and poked me with their spears. I felt a stabbing pain in my side and growled at the guards. 

“Come on. Fly.” 

I stretched my wings out, feeling their strength, their power. With one beat I was in the sky, looking down at the courtyard. A few people clapped. The duke looked only slightly impressed as he stared up at me. Alvina stared up at me, light returning to her eyes. She would love it up here. 

I looked around, past the fortress walls. We were surrounded by trees with a small river running past the eastern wall. It flowed north. If I was correct, if we followed the river further north we would enter the forest and soon come upon the sanctuary. Now, how do we get out of here?

The ropes around my wrists pulled, keeping me from ascending further. The faces that looked up at me were filled with excitement. I scowled. I was only a source of entertainment to them. The thought hurt my pride. It made my anger boil. 

I studied the ropes. How easy would it be to break these? And then of course I’d have to get Avlina and the others. The number of guards was much lower and many of the prisoners looked able to fight. They stared up at me from where their captures had paused to watch. Feys were a rare sight to these people, even other magic races. But amongst the fear and the pain, I saw real hope in their eyes.

Feys were known for always wanting a fight. 

I looked down at the smiling duke, his face full of pleasure. 

This would be the last time he underestimated a fey.

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This is only part one. Come back next week for part two!