“My my, you’re quite the resilient one aren’t you? Not so easily broken.” The bruises that littered the delicate flesh of your body were reminiscent of works of art careful gifted by General Calista of the elven kingdom, Alia. “You humans,” she cooed, mock sympathy sweeting her voice, “tend to be entirely too fragile for my taste.”

The already firm grip she held on your jaw only tightened as she tilted your head up further, relishing in your refusal to admit the pain you were in. Not a whimper, a scream, no delicious pleading to feed whatever sadistic desire coursed through her veins. Silence often meant her prisoners were already too far gone for her to enjoy, their minds shut off and inner self tucked away in some safe fantasy they’d craft in their head. But you? There was a fire that burned in your eyes whispering promises of revenge and hatred.

It had been weeks since the small division broken off from the elven army, Calista and her men, had captured your town; a rouge little farming village on the outskirts of Alia’s neighboring empire, Sador. It was an act of war, one long in the making and readily waged.

“My men tell me you still refuse to eat, little human. Four days of rejecting the food we so graciously offer you, hm?” Your lips parted from the force of Calista prying open your mouth to feed you a piece of stale bread. “Chew.”

The piercing gaze of her golden eyes traveled to your throat, refusing to release you until she saw the bit of bread swallowed. Calista hummed in approval, brushing away some of the crumbs that lingered at the corner of your mouth with her thumb. “When death comes for you, it will be on my terms. Until then you listen, you eat, you obey. Do I make myself clear?”