The Djinn and the Vartija, part II

 Muritage

She actually isn't too hideous...

The thought surprised me, but I was careful to only display smug arrogance to the girl. She had yet to fulfill my expectations concerning her species. The legends always depicted the Vartija as simple, bland creatures; on the edge of feral monstrosity. Yet this girl, who carried the aura of one of the Vartija, had shown a vast rang of intelligence and complexity.

I studied her, postponing the kill for a little longer. Her skin was quite pale, as was her long braid of beige hair. Delicate eyebrows were arched over large, pale hazel eyes that leaned more toward green then brown. She was fairly small for her age, a little fawn among the creatures she hunted. Though a wile fawn, this one.

I leaned closer toward the cliff, manipulating the water molecules within the air until they were a solid enough vapor to support my weight. If she wasn't hanging from one arm, she probably would have shied away. As it was, she flinched when I trailed a finger along a loose strand of hair on her cheek.

“I seriously doubt that there could be any attraction between our kinds.” Her voice was firm, but the hesitation within her eyes was hilarious.

“There has been a significantly high level of attraction from the Vartija toward my kind. The allurement your people felt was what caused their betrayal to destroy not only an empire, but an entire lifestyle stretching back eons.” I shook my head, allowing a hint of that ancient sorrow into my countenance.

She stared at me, unspoken questions darting around her eyes. When she finally spoke, it was in a soft voice, “How could a single betrayal cause such devastation?” I narrowed my eyes at the raw emotion that filled her voice.

Was it regret? Doubt? Or some strange emotion I had yet to encounter during my exile?

Could she actually feel regret for a betrayal she's only heard the faintest of shades of?

I leaned closer to her, my finger trailing down her neck now. She was a strange creature, much different then the memory-cache my mother guarded had made the Vartija out to be.

“Betrayal holds more sting then a thousand scorpions.”

I held out my free hand, conjuring a scorpion. The girl's eyes widened with fear. “What are you?” She asked, watching the scorpion. I smiled, enclosing the insect in my fist.

“You've yet to figure it out? Obviously your knowledge of the legendary is flawed. My kind have been called many things. I prefer Djinn.”