Survival Shenanigans With Elf Mistress

Chapter 14 The Prophesied Slave

Help did arrive. Ellara shoved through the unruly crowd, dissuading them with her polite tone. However, her voice drowned in the commotion.

But as the mob pressed in, her body shifted. Light—Ellara swelled into Dark-Ellara's voluptuous curves, and her eyes darkened with authority. "Stop this madness!" she roared.

"I have collared this human, and he is my slave, bound by the Medley curse—my protector!"

"But Lady Ellara..." Leroy protested, yanking the noose tighter. "He still belongs to the dark one. We should eliminate him while he is still weak."

Dark-Ellara snapped her fingers, and black lightning crackled around me. My captors jumped back, singed by the magic, their hands burned and smoking.

She approached, placing a boot on one fallen elf's chest, grinding down just enough to make him groan. "If you kill Akira, it changes nothing," she snarled.

"Chernobog will summon another from the otherworlds, perhaps someone stronger and worse, to plunge Arcadia into eternal night! At least this way, I control the human's growth—watch him, mold him."

She glanced at me. "And if he steps out of line, I'll put him down myself."

The elder hesitated, his face twisting like he'd bitten a sour grape. The villagers exchanged glances, their murmurs rippling through the crowd in a wave of confusion.

A few women in the back eyed me curiously—maybe seeing potential in the "prophesied" slave—but the men grumbled. After scattered talks, reluctant nods spread.

"Lady Ellara is right..."

"The human is her prisoner and slave..."

"Better under her thumb than growing under the dark one's shadow..."

"Perhaps he might not turn out evil..."

They loosened my ropes, letting me drop gasping to the dirt. The Elves dispersed back to their tasks, though their wary glances lingered.

I rubbed my neck, feeling the collar's weight again, but it gave me relief this time.

Dark-Ellara stood over me, her Wonderwoman form casting a fierce shadow, one hand on her hip in a pose that made my blood rush south.

"On your feet, slave, or do I make the collar weight a thousand times heavier!"

I staggered up, brushing off dirt, my face burning from humiliation and unwanted arousal. "Thanks," I murmured, avoiding her gaze.

Ellara's boot stepped on my foot, pinning it just hard enough to hurt. Her dark eyes locked on mine, and a smirk played on her lips.

"Thanks, what, protector?" She leaned closer, her breath warm against my ear. "Whisper it to me."

I swallowed hard, my voice coming out weak. "Thanks, mistress."

She laughed like a witch who had just eaten a child. Then her form flickered back to light, and her expression softened to an apologetic one. "I'm sorry it came to that, Akira. The prophecy scares them. But you'll prove yourself useful here. Help with the chores, and maybe they'll warm up to you."

I nodded and entered the settlement. The village, Twilight Grove as Leroy called it during a quick tour, was a makeshift haven for these nomadic Sylvans.

Huts woven from living vines, gardens bursting with glowing fruits, a central fire pit where stories were shared under the three suns.

Light-Ellara introduced me as her "bound protector," emphasizing the slave part to ease fears.

The women whispered about me, some with curiosity, others with pity. The men still kept their distance, sharpening their arrows like they expected me to turn demonic any second.

Leroy pulled Ellara aside for a council, leaving me to wander under watchful eyes. I spotted a group of elf women by a stream, laughing like music as they washed linens.

One, a curvy redhead named Mara caught my eye. Her tunic had slipped just enough to fuel my melon-eating fantasies. "Hey, prophesied one," she called to me teasingly. "Why don't you come help with the wash? Or are you too busy ogling?"

I grinned and stepped closer. "Ogling's my specialty, but I can multitask."

My mind raced with harem dreams—rescuing them from some threat, earning their gratitude in very physical ways. I could see the possibilities now.

Before I could flirt more, Dark-Ellara's voice boomed from across the camp. "Akira! To me, now!"

As I ran to her, she grabbed my collar, yanking me close. "Don't get ideas, slave. You're mine to command—not theirs, but don't slack off either."

I nodded and returned to work. The day dragged into chores—hauling water, chopping wood, using my secret furnace system on a hidden campfire to enhance tools without her noticing.

Light-Ellara praised my efforts softly, and she even patted my shoulder once like a friend. But when I accidentally broke a tool, she switched. Dark-Ellara pinned me against a hut wall and punched me in the gut. I doubled over in pain.

"Fix it faster, or next time, I'll hit you much lower."

By evening, the village gathered around the fire pit. Leroy stood up for a quick speech. "The outworlder stays, but as Lady Voss's slave. She has lent him as a mule. Work him to the bone!"