17.4 A Lost Elf

General Summary

Day 210

Word arrives in the morning that Torrick has invited me for dinner tomorrow evening along with two of my party. Bran and Kadia, I think.   The common room is lively in the morning with plenty of food and a few groups that are clearly adventuring parties. One of the young adventurers is a human wearing what are very distinctly elvish robes. The style is very similar to the school robes of one of the universities back home.   I join her and speak for a bit in elvish. She seems shy at first but warms up as it becomes clear that I’m friendly. She tells me that the robes and staff were a gift from her mother, an elf. This girl, Rina, is more delicate than I would expect for a human but still...she’s human. What makes her different from Cheena?   I find that her staff is exquisitely made of silver, moonstone, and living vines. As we chat about university and her mother’s studies I recognize the name of one of her teachers - Vendalil. No wonder the staff is so beautifully made...Vendalil was an excellent enchanter. And the runes on this staff will wrap the wielder in shade and prolong the magic cast through it. The decorative runes entreat the Empress herself to protect the bearer.   We pass nearly an hour in conversation about her mother who passed away a few years ago of the Wasting. She told Rina that people who were too long away from the Empress’ shadow withered and died over several years. Rina had never seen it before or since but her mother said she had.   She lowers her voice a little...it’s possible that her mother did that to herself. The books she’d been studying from were burned before she died because they ‘weren’t needed anymore’. And ever since...it’s like time has stopped for Rina. She does look extraordinarily young, about Hella’s age. She tells me it’s been years and she hasn’t aged at all.   The staff, the Wasting, the ageless girl before me. I wonder...I wonder if somehow her mother gave away her oath, or at least the essence of it. Whatever it means to be a sworn elf even on this side, if she sacrificed it? Maybe entwined it into this staff? There are so many fascinating magical possibilities here and I’m itching with curiosity but no...this isn’t a time to be a wizard. This is a time to be an elf with another young elf lost beside me.   She says she’s never found any other people of mixed heritage before but she’s heard rumours. Stories of elves stealing human children or human women having to raise elvish children. The rumours are of thieves and assault but, she tells me, what if these are just normal children? Normal children born to mixed parents who loved each other? She didn’t know her father but she knew that her parents cared for one another. Her father died helping her mother escape the town they lived in when it turned against them over her pregnancy.   But to happier memories...I tell them about the city where her mother’s university is. It’s a beautiful place and her face slowly lights up hearing about it. She’s an elemental wizard (her mother, Cresti, had an affinity for water) and she looks amazed at the small illusions I conjure to show her the towering cliffs around the city and the lush jungle around it. I give her some exercises to work on her own illusions.   W are interrupted by a gruff-looking dwarf in heavy armour who sits down next to us and gives me an earful, telling me I’d better be nice to her and not break her heart like every other elf they’ve met. The things coming out of him are so close to threats that I have laugh. Poor Rini is bright red with embarrassment but I reassure Talrend that I have only just invited her to join me and some other elves at some point in the future.   He lays off a bit at this, leaving us together to go explore the city a bit. Alder accompanies me, of course. And we wind our way towards Spindle’s shop because I have lots of thoughts about what Rina needs right now. She tells me that she’s been too scared to go there alone but sometimes she lurks outside and tries to work up the courage. As I tell her that Spindle will be fine, I realize how refreshing it is that she has no idea who I am. This trust that Spindle will be fine is because she trusts that my judgement is sound, not because she knows that I can simply order something to happen. It’s nice.   When we arrive, Hella is outside reading a book. Apparently she is being used in the process of forging but not all the time. She looks supremely bored and is delighted to have company.   Inside, Spindle takes a break from forging (a beautiful blade infused with transmutation magic) to greet us. To my unsurprise he tells Rina it’s about time that she showed up instead of just lurking outside. Her face is so precious. Having given both of them directions to Dreamfall, I make it clear that if they travel they ought to travel together. No sense trying to make it alone.   I leave the two youngsters with instructions to practice some magic together and head off to take care of some chores with Alder. Seems like we’ll be here for more than 10 days.  

Day 211

I invite Rina’s party to lunch with us and it’s intensely amusing for me to watch Imi, their summer fae scoundrel, flirt with every single member of my group. Poor Nina especially looks overwhelmed as this tiny fae cozies up to her.   The two dwarves, Talrend and Nordbrandt, are loudspoken and boisterous. Their group has essentially been wandering around poking their noses into anything and everything that anyone will tell them not to.   When I ask about say...an ancient dwarven ruin….their faces darken a little.   They recognize my description of Afan but tell me that it’s inhabited by the Warlord Krush and his army of enslaved beasts (allegedly including giants and a dragon). He has attacked the Armed Nation before and there seems to be a personal thing between him and Torrick. All express a concern that the Warlord will continue to lay siege against the Armed Nation until he’s truly beaten back.   “Torrick is a capable strategist even if he pretends he’s not. He won’t be king because he’s trying to keep promises and try to be something new instead of what he was. He’s got the voice. If he’d just use it even I’d follow,”   From this conversation I learn something of dwarvish culture and the caste system. Torrick, apparently, was formerly Ventarri and is now dead-set against being a ruler again. What’s the difference between a ruler and a commander? Humans have kings, apparently dwarves have some semblance of that, and elves have the court and our Hand and Dread Lords. One can lead without ruling. I wonder if a decisive strike against this Warlord would be a good thing. Something to discuss over dinner, perhaps. As I mull this over beneath the hum of conversation I catch Bran watching me. Sometimes I wonder if I could get his attention just by thinking of doing something truly reckless and fate-endangering…   As we all depart from lunch I catch Bran to check in. He tells me that I feel freer here than I’ve been anywhere else.   “You do things and they have meaning but I don’t see your thread anymore. It’s too deep for me to see or understand but sometimes I feel a hiss or a whisper reaching out to me and I just can’t understand it. Things don’t seem to connect to the larger puzzle here until they touch you and then they connect again...but I don’t see you”   “How do I guide you if I can’t see your thread?”   And amidst these thoughts is also the difficulty he’s been having with his own magic and dreams. Sometimes he feels multiple futures at once and it blurs together, or someone asks him a question and it feels like he’s already answered it. He’s been struggling to reach the Dreaming alone as well.   “I have a bad feeling that I won’t be at your side when you need me. I don’t know when or why...I think I’ll have to choose between you and someone else and I know what you’ll tell me to do. But still…”   I hug him. I don’t know what else to do. Like with Lyssa I know that sometimes it’s the comfort that’s needed, not the counsel.