In this first chapter of Forsaken by Shadows, we are introduced to Kitty on the worst night of her life, the night the drow raid her home and destroy her freedom.
Disclaimer: This story is a dark tale of surviving trauma and abuse. If these are subjects you are sensitive to, this story may not be for you.
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(Kitty, age 8)
Kitty was not always called Kitty. It was the name given to her by her captor, Prince Toloruel, Elderboy of House Tear, fifth house of Menzoberranzan. The wicked drow warrior had thought it was amusing. He never asked what her true name was, never cared to find out. He simply, on a whim, decided he wanted a pet. So he murdered her family and abducted her from her home.
That was why she was called Kitty. She was, in effect, of no more value to the drow family than a stray cat. Except, as she thought to herself often, a cat would’ve been treated better. A cat was higher on the spectrum of life than she. For she was what the drow hated most: a “faerie”.
She wasn’t a real “faerie”, of course, and wasn’t even pure “faerie”. She had been born to an elven mother and a half-elven father, both of them minstrels in a traveling band of performers. Music brought her family together and the first eight years of the young half-elf’s life were bliss. She had no idea that monsters stalked in the night, nor that darkness could be so oppressive that it stole the air from your very lungs.
She knew nothing of the evils of the world until the raid.
It all happened so fast. The night was balmy and full of song and dance. These spontaneous festivals were common among the troubadours but no less delightful for their frequency. Kitty lost herself in the rhythm, twirling in circles as she thrummed her tambourine.
The next moment, however, the songs were turned to horrible screams and all Kitty could see was crimson. She shrieked and ran for her mother who scooped her up and fled into the forest. Her father stayed behind, shouting for them to hide as he dropped his harp in favor of a rapier.
She thought they had gotten away. Kitty’s mother ran softly and swiftly, hushing her daughter as they went. They ran until Kitty could run no more, and then a bit further. She sobbed quietly, terrified of the shadows. Her mother wore a brave face, but her quickly darting eyes told Kitty she was frightened as well.
They came at last to the river, which babbled merrily without a care for the carnage they had fled from. Kitty’s graceful elven heritage made it easy to slip down the ravine towards the boulders that lodged along the riverbank. Her mother ushered her along until they found a dark crevice large enough for Kitty to fit in.
“You will be safe here, my dove,” her mother said. “Hide here and wait for me, or first light. Whichever comes first.”
Kitty didn’t like the sound of those words or the sinister look of the dark crevice. “Where are you going? Why can’t you hide with me?”
“I am going to check on your father. If I am not back by first light, then run. Don’t turn back. Follow the river south to Eldendale and look for Goodman Spencer. He’ll take care of you.”
Kitty clutched at her skirts. “Mama, don’t go.”
“Wait here, my dove. You’ll be safe here.” Then her mother kissed her forehead and stepped out of her grip.
She was wrong.
As soon as she turned around, strong hands lunged from the darkness and seized her tight. The elven woman had no time to scream, no time to shout for her daughter to run. She was spun about and pulled tight against her attacker, her lavender eyes wide with fright as she looked down upon her daughter one final time. A silver flash slashed across her throat, and then she fell limp in the rain of her own blood.
Kitty screamed. She tried to back away but the crevice wasn’t deep enough. Her mother’s lifeless form dropped to the earth and a man stepped forward into the moonlight.
Horror and awe struck her dumb. She’d never seen a dark elf before, never even heard the stories. The drow stepped over her mother’s body, grinning down at her with hauntingly beautiful features, his eyes glowing a vicious red.
“Safe,” he sneered in a heavily accented Common. “What a foolish notion.”
Kitty tried again to scramble away, but with the rock behind her, there was nowhere to go.
“Poor little dove,” the drow mocked. “Did you actually believe you were safe, as you fled into the night?” His smile twisted with contempt. “As if darkness could hide you from the eyes of the drow.”
Tears fell heavy from Kitty’s eyes, obscuring her vision. She reached around for something, anything, and found a sizable rock. Snatching it up, she lunged forward with a primal snarl.
The drow merely batted her away as though she were a fly, sending her careening back into the boulder. Stars exploded in her head as jagged stone bit into her lower back.
“I shouldn’t have killed her so quickly,” the drow said, looking down at Kitty’s mother. “I’ll have missed all the fun by now, little dove. The only sport I get tonight is her.” He kicked her mother’s body aside as he came towards her. “And now you. Alas, I should have savored it more.”
Kitty forgot about fighting and instead tried to curl herself into a ball, whimpering. The drow knelt before her. His boots were soaked in her mother’s blood, the tip of his knife driving her head back as it came at her eye.
“So I am going to need you to be especially fun,” he said, his lips curling back in a wolfish smile. “I’ve come a long way for this. Make sure you scream for me, little dove.”
The fear was too much for her. Her quaking ceased as everything went black.
When she awoke, her wrists were bound to her ankles and she had been tossed unceremoniously onto a heap of things. Though her vision was blurred, she recognized a silver vase that Goodie Merria had prized. It was smeared with blood and bright with firelight, among many other trinkets she knew belonged to her friends and neighbors.
Dark shapes moved around her: men and women speaking in a harsh language she didn’t understand. She could barely make out the details of the forms, for her eyes were swollen from her tears.
“It’s awake,” said a voice in Common. Kitty felt something sharp prod her in the side. She cried out in pain, which made the speaker snicker and prod her again.
There was a dull thud followed by a snarl.
“Do not touch it. She is mine.”
Every muscle in her body locked tight. She recognized the voice as the creature who had slain her mother.
“Yours?” the other grumbled. “I thought this plunder was for the Spider Queen. And why should you get the best prize? You did the least killing.”
This time, there was a cry of pain.
“Because I am your commander,” the monster growled. “And her suffering will be my tribute to Lolth. Do you have a problem with that?”
“N-no, Toloruel.”
“That’s what I thought. Now get back to work. I want to be underground before that wretched sun rises.”
A ripple of murmured agreement went around the shadows, and Kitty realized this was her only chance. If luck was on her side, everyone would be watching the spectacle the monster was making. She bucked and rocked until she rolled off the pile of loot and landed with a thud on the ground.
The mud tasted of iron, and as she blinked it out of her eyes she found herself staring into the lifeless gaze of Goodie Merria, whose silver vase she had just left on the pile above.
It no longer mattered if luck was on her side. She screamed, and the dark forms around her erupted into laughter.
“Your kitten is getting away,” someone hollered.
The words jarred her back to life, and with fresh tears burning in her eyes, Kitty tried in vain to scoot as far away as she could. Though it made no logical sense, she’d convinced herself if she could just reach the trees this nightmare would go away.
She’d hardly moved before those bloodstained boots sauntered into her vision.
“No, no,” she moaned, and then she cried out as a hand dug into her hair and wrenched her up. She found herself staring into the terrifying eyes of her mother’s killer. They were no longer glowing, but they were very, very red. Like Goodie Merria’s blood.
“Obedience will be learned,” he said, as his hand closed around her throat. “In time.”
Kitty tried to speak, to plead for her life, but she couldn’t draw breath. Horrified, she began to thrash and struggle as best she could, but her bonds were relentless. Her chest burned and her vision grew dark, and all she could focus on were those bright, blood-colored eyes, watching her struggle without a hint of compassion.
If anything, he looked amused.
It was the last thing she saw in the world above. For when she woke next, it was in the confines of her new home.
The lightless caverns of the Underdark.
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