The crack from the whip echoed throughout the cavern, reaching Slayea’s delicate ears. The offending male, some distance away, fell to his knees in front of the Task Mistress. Slayea didn’t know what he’d done wrong, and she hardly cared. Whipping for no reason was discouraged, but it still happened. Her violet gaze slid to her own charges, watching for any sign of tension. Sometimes, when one acted out, they all did. The males she was supervising, however, simply continued to pick the fruit from the tall, leafy green stalks. Slayea supervised the cass they had to pull whatever they collected. That was her job in Desu Cavern. A relatively easy one, she and the other Task Mistresses ensured the males at Desu did as they were told. While most were taller, or broader, than any of the women, the magical whips they carried were more than enough to make sure they stayed put. The enchanted items cut deep, didn’t heal properly, and would fester without the women’s cure. A male that tried to run, and was whipped before hand, either returned for the appropriate care, or he died a slow, agonizing death in the dark tunnels.

They all knew it. And since Desu was the farthest farming cavern, both from Kerix and the male city, no one tried. Between the whips and the distance, the miles of twisting passages where shade beasts, scaled hunters, and blind cats hunted unwary shadelv, there was a rather large crevice between the actual plantation and the entrance tunnel. The other, smaller passages off this cavern served as living quarters and storage areas. Without the key, the bridge didn’t activate. And without the bridge, you didn’t cross. Not even a cass could jump the distance. Because Desu was so safe, both because if it’s location and natural defenses, it was one of the larger plantations.

Allowing her mind to stray, Slayea’s gaze wondered to the crevice that was a couple hundred feet away. The field ran almost to the edge, leaving a wide enough space between it and the cliff to allow the passage of caravans and cass. Slayea and her males were working the perimeter, and were the farthest away from the actual buildings of Desu Plantation. It gave her a view of not only the crevice, but the bridge that was currently not there. It’d been ages since she’d actually left Desu. There simply wasn’t a reason to do so. Her wages here were decent, she was the caretaker of the three before her – Hythil, Rewave, and  Takile- and able to do with them what she wished so long as they could work. Free room and board, the attention of three males, and an easy job. What more could she want? There were a plethora of women in Kerix that didn’t have such a nice set up.

Slayea idly cracked the whip over the exposed back of Hythil, making all three momentarily tense. Just a small reminder that she was there, and watching. Her dark hand passed over the eyeless head of the cass she was standing next to. Their wedge shaped head atop a muscled, almost long neck, was covered in a fine, soft fur. Slayea had always wanted one of the beasts for herself. They were particularly passive around shadelv, almost as though they’d been born to serve them. While Slayea had seen a cass actually maul a blind cat, the white eyed feline predators. Between their large, teeth filled mouths, to their powerful clawed feet; the cass could be fatal to any shadelv. Save that there was no attack by one in history.

The cass next to Slayea lowered its head, hissing softly in the way they usually did when scenting prey. This promptly made the female shadelv take a step back. The sound, so foreign in the field, drew the attention of the three males as well as the closest Task Mistress. The cass seemed focused at the fissure, ears pricked forward. Frowning, Slayea cracked the whip. “Back to work,” she chided absently, watching the cass for any more signs. Since the creature was as tall as Slayea with its head lowered, with long legs that made it faster than her, she didn’t want it to bolt. Maybe it saw a predator on the other side? Slayea’s hand brushed along the fur of its neck. The touch of a shadelv was typically enough to calm any sort of aggression.

This time it was not. She could feel how the fine hairs were actually standing upright. And when the cass widened its stance, she felt the muscles tense. Before she could even shout a warning, the cass launched itself at the closest male, Rewave, seemingly unaware it was attached to a wagon at all. The bindings snapped with the sudden surge forward, the sound lost in the screams of pain from the male. Both Hythil and Takile scampered away as Slayea brought the whip down on the muscled back of the cass. She’d landed several blows, the beast bleeding freely. By the time the other Task Mistress arrived, Rewave was no longer making any sounds. He’d ceased struggling all together. The cass, seemingly bored with its prey, turned a wedge shaped head toward the closest target… Slayea. It didn’t even seem aware that she’d turned its back into a gory mess from the whip. She started backing up, partially aware that she didn’t have enough time to get away. The cass’ muscles tensed as it turned to face her, preparing to jump as it had before… Too late. Its head swung to snap at the other Task Mistress, but she was faster. The blade sunk hilt deep in the cass’ neck, the Task Mistress darting back as the beast began to thrash. It would die, they both knew.

Slayea, heart hammering in her chest, turned to face the other woman… when startled cries began to fill the cavern, followed quickly by the screams of those being attacked. Every Task Mistress had a cass. Every cass on the field, from where Slayea could see, was turning on those around them.

Confusion turned to action as she and the other woman, Yeera, ran to the nearest group Thankfully; it seemed the cass were attacking the males more than the females. Since the blade had been left back at Slayea’s cass, they were left with nothing more than their whips. Two males died before Slayea, Yeera, and the third Task Mistress could kill the cass. The women took down two more before it seemed the field was safe, though still a mess of confusion. Yeera ran off to report this to the Lady of Desu while Slayea returned to her original spot to round up Hythil and Takile, along with Yeera’s surviving charge. They were just as puzzled as Slayea, but silently so.  Some males had bolted to the crevice when the cass had started attacking, and were likewise being round up.

“What happened?” Hythil murmured, the only one that really spoke to Slayea outside their rooms. Irritated, she snapped, “Silence.” What could she say? What had happened to the cass? She indicated the men should lead the way back toward the Desu compound. Before she’d even taken a step however, Yeera’s male pointed back toward the crevice. He seemed a little gray, and shook some, but met her gaze readily enough. Lips pursed in annoyance, she turned to where he was pointing… then blinked.

A woman stood where the bridge would meet the other side of the crevice. The shadelv’s dark vision was astounding; leading Slayea to believe the woman there was a Dire Priestess from the brighter markings along her temple. “Hythil, go tell the Lady we have a visitor…” The male seemed to contemplate arguing for the span of a breath before he turned and started running across the field. Slayea led the others toward the bridge, opposite the woman.

The crevice between them didn’t have a bottom to it, or as far as the women were concerned. It was deep. Very deep. And rather wide. Slayea stood on one side, the woman far enough that she couldn’t have thrown a rock and struck her. “This is Desu Cavern?” the woman asked, voice carrying in the vast space. Closer now, Slayea knew the woman was a Dire Priestess. What she was doing here, alone, was beyond the Task Mistress.

“This is, yes. Where is your escort?”

The woman allowed Slayea’s echo to fade with a breath of silence, before replying, “They were killed.”

An escort… killed? “Are you hurt?”

Again there was a long pause. “No, no. I’m… I’m fine. I need… I need you to extend the bridge.”

Slayea nodded, turning to see a procession of women making their way across the field, forgoing the road that wrapped around it. Seeing the Lady walking this far out only served to remind Slayea what cass had been available were suddenly not so, considering they littered the field. “The Lady is coming,” she assured the priestess. “Something happened with the cass… They all went mad.”

The pauses were beginning to make Slayea curious. “I can’t say the same of my own. What happened to them?” Rather than questioning the woman, or asking again if she was hurt, the Task Mistress instead explained the attacks by the cass. However brief it was, by the time she was done, Lady Desu had arrived.

Each region or area of shadelv was managed by a Lady, a woman of wealth, standing, and power – albeit purely political. Shekkahlan Desu looked the part she claimed, decorated in a wealth of silk that both flattered and accented her delicate arms, beautiful hips, and long legs. She was taller than Slayea and the other women present, with the sort of presence that simply commanded attention. Hair so pale blue it was nearly white was styled in layers that framed her narrow face, where silver glittered along her lips and eyes. Slayea would’ve said she was trying to impress their guest if she didn’t know that Shekkahlan always dressed as such. When the Lady brought her blue gaze to Slayea, the Task Mistress shivered a little. “Her name?” Shekkahlan asked. This automatically made Slayea feel a fool. She’d not asked. Her mouth opened and closed several times before murmuring an apology.

The Lady Desu sighed lightly, never a good sound, before approaching the twin stone pillars that marked the start of the bridge. They were spaced several feet apart, enough so that Shekkahlan and two others could’ve stood side by side with plenty of space between. The bridge had to be big enough to allow supplies to cross.  “I apologize for the wait, Dire Priestess, but I had to put some of my animals put down.” As she spoke, the Lady withdrew a small metal orb from a pocket. It fit comfortably in her fist before Shekkahlan set it on one of the pillars, placing the orb in a small pit designed for it. That was the key, the trigger that created the bridge.

In the crevice, flat rocks began to materialize between one side and the other. They fit together like puzzle pieces, forming a wide bridge in a matter of moments. It remained substantial so long as the orb set in the pillar, and there was only one key. The Dire Priestess started across. Slayea thought the woman was taking her sweet time, walking rather slowly. The Lady moved out to greet her. The Task Mistress and the escort remained where they were. Before either was even close to the middle of the bridge, the Lady tensed. Even though Slayea was not close, she could see something was wrong. The woman’s body was rigid, on alert… but there was nothing there. She wasn’t the only one that noticed, as one of her personal guards called out, “Is everything ok?”

Shekkahlan turned slowly, and even though the Priestess had yet to make it that far, began walking back. Slayea’s hand dropped to her whip as she narrowed her eyes. Something was so very…

“Pull the key! Now!”

The order came so fast, so abruptly, from Shekkahlan that they all just gaped. Then recoiled as the woman doubled over as if in pain. What had to be blood ran down the front of her, starting to pool on the bridge. The guards rushed forward, even Slayea took a step toward the bridge, but Shekkahlan’s scream of, “Pull the orb out!” made them pause in confusion. Slayea didn’t know what to do… or why the Lady was bleeding. The guard nearest the pillar reached out to do as she had been told… and lost her hand for the effort. It was as though something had cut through it.

Then the impossible happened.

A man appeared next to the pillar. Just… appeared. One blink there had been nothing, the next… He was tall, taller than the women gathered, with the longest blade Slayea had ever seen. Nearly as long as he was tall, stained red from where it’d cut through the female’s wrist. He wore some foreign armor, metallic and leather. What’s more… his skin was white. Pure. Slayea’s dark vision enabled her to distinguish base colors, and the man nearly glowed with how colorless he was. There was a length of cloth bound around head, hiding one eye… but that didn’t seem to hinder him as the blade cut through the injured guard, separating her head from her shoulders in one single motion.

The other guards reacted faster this time, drawing their own swords to face off with him. He didn’t move though, rather, simply watched as each guard was cut down by another invisible blade. Slayea knew she was outmatched… and turned to run. She’d been rooted to the spot for the brief execution. It wasn’t until she was the only target left that her mind screamed ‘Run!’ Morbid disbelief had frozen her. Fear for her life sped her back toward the compound. Her voice echoed off the cave walls as she shrieked, “We’re under attack!”

**

“Nihiryha forgive me,” Ksajura whispered softly as she knelt next to the Lady. She’d had the courage to at least call out a warning, to try and close the bridge before the Lighelves crossed. Her robes became wet with the blood there. So much of it. The Priestess didn’t know how the Lady was still alive. She was panting, trying to get a breath. The blade had gone right through her middle, as the Lighelv had said it would if she called out a warning.

“Who…” the woman attempted, striking eyes wide in pain and fear. Ksajura shifted to pillow her head, lightly brushing a stray strand of hair off of the woman’s cheek.

“Lighelves. From the surface,” Ksajura gently replied. “Rest, dear Lady. It will be over soon.” The Priestess remained with the Lady, who fought the inevitable. She watched as the white elves crossed the field, meeting pockets of resistance that were slaughtered. Now that the males were visible, at least they could attempt to fight. Though Ksajura knew it was no good. She’d already fought them. Her whole party had. Twenty guards, five sorceresses, and three attending priestesses had not been enough. The meager defenses here wouldn’t even faze the Lighelves. They were too good… and there were too many. The few that now hunted through the compound, searching out other shadelv, were but a small advance party sent to clear out the cave for the real force.

She trembled almost as much as the dying woman she near clung to, recalling the force of Lighelves she’d seen. They’d brought an army. A well supplied, efficient, and relentless army. There was only one reason for such power. The Commander of the party, a tall, quick male with the cloth band over his eye made his way across the bridge, to where Ksajura knelt. He was the leader, known as an Elite. All that meant to Ksajura was that he was faster, stronger, and had senses the gods would envy. His party had been the one to overtake Ksajura’s. The only satisfaction she could take from the whole thing was that he’d lost an eye in the fight. Ksajura had been the one to wound him.

He stopped a short distance away, the tip if his long blade sliding into her field of view, before the point guided her eyes to his. She tensed at the prick of metal along her throat, meeting the intense gaze of his remaining eye. The priestess had hoped he’d be impaired, that the wound would have affected him in a profound way. She’d hoped he’d kill her because she’d handicapped him. Since being trapped for neigh a week, he’d shown no signs of even noticing. He reacted, fought, and moved as though she’d done nothing to him. Ksajura wouldn’t have guessed he was blind in one eye.

They stared at one another for a long moment. He seemed to expect her to do something as foolish as the Lady had. Ksajura waited to see if he’d simply kill her out of hand. After a moment, the point withdrew as he commanded, “Stand up. I’m not getting rid of you yet.” Though his accent sounded strange, the words themselves were easy enough to understand. Despite the thousands of years separating their two peoples, it had seemed the language had remained relatively the same. She didn’t know if that was a plus or not.

The Dire Priestess gently moved the Lady off of her lap before doing as she was told. Ksajura didn’t have the courage to do as the other woman had done. She would endure, and cling to life, so long as the Elite would let her have it. He indicated she start across the bridge. Ksajura knew this was just the start of it. The first slaughter.