She had pointy ears. Ears that speared her straight glossy hair. Although violet tinges had marred the length of her acicular face, scattered scarlet scars minced the pale of her features, she was still beautiful. When Alve’s eyes steered to the background of the woman, steel poles slashed the exhausted faces of the same fey countenance of an older man and children. They were in cages. Alve was in a cage, curled on the iron floor, a ball of sallow and bony heap.

The dizziness, ache, and itch had finally returned and Alve trembled. The exposure to the cold and pain blurred her vision as tears had started to swell. Like the other pointy eared children of each of their cages was, she was a child herself, and crying the confusion was the first that came into mind. She hicked. Alve had wanted to rasp when the pointed ear male beside her started patting her resting head.

“Shh,” he murmured. “Please hold it in, earth ear for the man who wishes silence is outside.”

Alve noticed then the tight wooden space they were all piled up. The jostling and the sounds of traveling wheels and neigh of horses brought her back to sanity. They were in a carriage. The small barred parallel windows above them were the only insulations to the smell of piss and feces.

A furry semi-hand and paw fell above her cage and waved. It must be someone caged above her, and such a creature made Alve cringe.

“Hi!” a male young voice blithely stormed her hearing. “I’m Danilsei, you can call me Dani.”

She pulled far from the still waving hand, hurdling her back to the darker edge of her steel prison. The conscious surprise even made Alve’s tired body sit awkwardly away. Something feathery had tickled her ear, and when she turned to the side, the tail end of whatever beast Alve did not know coiled.

The male voice above lively laughed, his mixture of a growl further fanned her horror.

“Shush, hound, you risk us another lashing,” the same male who mellowed her chided. The male above may have consoled as he finally lowered into a hush. His sigh gave Alve a moment to still her thundering heart.

“I’m sorry, whoever you are girl. I’ve been trapped here for weeks and the consolation from the elves had tethered me, hopeless. It is also odd why a human like you is in a cage like us, fae,” his sad muttering came to Alve’s unusual senses.

“We all have been, Danilsei,” the glossy haired fae gave Alve tired eyes. “Earth ear, I think you have not seen yourself an anthropomorph?” When Alve had not bothered to reply, the woman assumed. “My name is Qielda, this is my daughter Pielta,” the woman reached out to her left, a three winter older girl fae whose dry eyes dealt days of no water. “And Peltus, my son,” Quilda brought her hand over a boy to her right whose features were almost the same to her mother.

“And I am Puldosen,” said the fae who have been trying to calm the storm in Alve’s stomach. “I am their father.” His amber hair explaining Pielta’s.

“Ginsenya, pleasure,” grumbled a female voice above Pielta’s cage. Alve could not see whoever or whatever the fae was because the female had kept hidden.

“I’m Yuwulre, dear, a pleasure as well.” The not-so-child chimed. He very much had the height of a child as Yuwulre stood and peered out of his cage to look at Alve. His was the one above Peltus. “Oh, were you not fed back home?”

“Food must really be important to you, halfling. Can’t finish work without a second’s bite from breathing.” Ginsenya, a rather bald and meatier short woman finally showed up. When her grayish eyes found Alve’s, her face crumpled. “Thravadin protect you child, you’ll break like a twig.

“We are thin folk, unlike you dwarf, but we don’t break that easily,” the one above Puldosen, someone Alve was entirely blocked from scoffed.

“Ah, the actual stick speaks,” Ginsenya jeered.

When gnarling started overhead, Yuwulre coerced. “Peace, Val. We cannot call the slave master over such a small quarrel.” Val shrugged and did not introduce himself. “Back to you, little thing. Since you now know us, who are you?” Yuwulre returned to her.

“And who were your parents?” Quilda added in. “We did not expect to find an earth ear such as far from home.”

Although there are those she could not see, Alve felt the calming presence of warmth in her chest. They were concerned, too concerned in fact for such strangers. Alve’s head was buzzing and she needed to breath. She had started to scratch the elbows of her knees when she felt the fluid touch and the scorching pain as she held her hand out to herself. Her nails had gathered blood.

“You will cause an infection now. Stop hurting your skin,” Puldosen tried battering her hands from her armpits and neck.

Alve trembled. “I can’t…” Everything was burning. Her ragged wheezing waking her lungs. Her throat was parched. Her muscles were sore. Her hair… her hair was gone. She palmed her now shorn hair and gasped so loudly. “Brother…”

Where was her brother. Where was she? Who were these people? Why was she here?

“Brother! Brother! Brother…” she wailed. She turned to scratch her chest, her scalped hair. Crying, bowling to the room of the already sorrowful fae folk. “Brother, where are you!”

Alves slammed her thin hands against Puldosen’s anxious reprimands. He was still trying to get hold of her wrists, trying his best to deter her own destruction. The harsh opening of the sliding door took all their attentions away. The familiar dark figure, whose now bald and mangled head torn Alve’s cries into high pitched squealing. The sliding door was at the rear, so it was easy for the monster to peel away Alve’s cage lock, lunged on her frizzling arms and pulled her out. Alve flew across rough terrain and cracked herself amongst sharp stones. She did not move.

“I do not care what the Tarmorein want from a royal mongrel like you. As long as you are alive when we get to Solven, I will have my way.”