Story 151: The Sacrifice of Valyrin

The woods whispered with a life of their own, a murmur that filled the dense air as the creatures dragged Valyrin to the ancient tree. Their hands, rough and green with the grime of countless hunts, worked quickly, pulling the vines tighter around her lithe, pale frame. The elven princess did not struggle. Her silver hair fell like strands of moonlight over her face, half-obscuring eyes that glistened with stoic acceptance.

She knew this day would come.

The goblin chief, a monstrous creature with fangs bared, hissed as he secured the final knot. His brethren cheered and snarled, jabbing at her sides with rusted daggers, their eyes gleaming with cruel excitement. They had waited long for this moment: the sacrifice of the forest’s last guardian.