Prowling in the Night
Elzalore tossed and moaned in his sleep. He was young again, maybe 14. He was a starving boy during the siege, trapped behind the duke's walls for months while the enemy outside stopped any chance of relief. He had been roaming the streets at night, mad with hunger. He had become a senseless animal, driven only by the need to survive. He was a scrawny, dirty, growling thing. He prowled the empty shopping district, just one of many places he checked each night. He looked under baskets and found human skulls gleaming white in the torchlight. He looked under stacks of bloody rugs and found bones. Finally, he reached a distant part of the market. Somehow, he knew this was off limits. Dangerous. He stopped, tense and coiled like a cat deciding to leap. Maybe there was food back there. Had he ever looked? No. Or had he? He wasn’t sure. He heard a small noise behind a stall. Was someone there ahead of him? Was someone taking his food? That was enough. He rushed forward, h...