“I’m Elysande, but you can call me Elys.”
“If it wasn’t for her, I’d still be on the back of that creepy guy’s horse.” Soni shivered, scrunching her nose in disgust.
“Oh, I see.” Wynn smiled and glanced at Lyrael. “Thank you, then. For saving us and Soni.”
That’s when Lyrael remembered Tsarra was supposed to explain what Lyrael was exactly, but it sort of got clarified by what she overheard when she returned to camp, which she did not quite believe. Surely, they must smell the Elven children on me, or the Elves from the village.
The group fell into silence and Soni suddenly gasped, grabbing her bag. She pulled out a small cloth pouch and waved it toward Wynn. “I completely forgot I have some ossa roots. It’ll help you heal faster.”
Wynn smiled in relief and murmured a thank you, watching as she poured some water into the cup and stuffed the pouch into the water. She closed the lid and partially buried it into the coals near the edge of the fire to steep.
“I think we should continue toward Allsgorath, as that seems to be the way Elys is heading, anyway. It’s the only logical direction, as going through the city is the only way to cross the river. I’d rather sleep in an inn than out here in the cold.” Tsarra explained, looking between all of them and then at Lyrael, her fingers playing with the small braid in her curly orange hair. “Plus, we don’t really have the equipment to sleep out here. At least, we don’t.”
Lyrael grimaced but hid her expression. Originally, she had intended to follow Anwel’s trail even throughout the night, with minimal eating or rest, if at all.
Wynn finally noticed the squirrels on the makeshift spit on the campfire in front of them. “Who caught the squirrels? I know both of you don’t really know how to skin an animal.” Wynn remarked with a smirk, and Lyrael just raised her hand briefly.
“Uh... I did. I skinned and gutted them.”
“Whoa, really, who raised you?”
“If I may ask, why are you tracking a halfy?” Tsarra piped up as Lyrael checked the squirrels again. After she decided the squirrels were cooked thoroughly, she took them off the fire to rest, stabbing the stick into the dirt so it did not lay on the ground. She looked back at Tsarra, unsure of how to answer her question.
“What do you mean?” Wynn asked, confused considering he was unconscious when they met.
“When we crossed paths, she was following a scent trail. A halfy, based on the smell.”
Lyrael tilted her head to the side. “What’s a halfy?” It wasn’t a term she was familiar with.
Soni laughed from her spot beside Wynn. “I’m sorry, but how do you not know what a halfy is? It’s a Half Elf. Which usually means they are half Elven and half human.” She explained, like it was common knowledge. “Whoever you’re tracking... they’re a halfy.”
Lyrael frowned and furrowed her brows at her claim.
“I didn’t even know they existed.” Lyrael explained as she checked the squirrels. Deciding they were cooled enough, she began passing out chunks of meat. “I didn’t know they were possible.”
Tsarra nodded. “They do, but they’re rare and they mostly live close to the Border, but they’re around. They stay away from big cities, as most people don’t approve of them.” Tsarra explained after she swallowed a bite of squirrel meat. “Do you really not know what you are?”
Lyrael removed the bow hooked over her shoulder, lying it on the ground. “No, at this point in time, I don’t know what I am. Twenty-four hours ago, I used to have black hair and blue eyes... and tan skin. I didn’t have pointed ears or gold eyes, and I used to live on the other side of the Border, with humans.”
Wynn frowned and hummed, sounding intrigued. “It sounds like someone put a glamour on you. There’s no way you’re human, you’re an Elf, through and through.”
“You’re a High Elf.” Tsarra murmured as she stared into the fire, flames dancing in her orange eyes. “High Elves have abilities, like the one you have. To be a High Elf, you have to have one High Elf parent and the other must be at least a Low Elf. Low Elves don’t have special abilities besides common magic, which is just basic levitation and enhanced senses, strength, speed, agility, and healing speed. Most High Elves have one main power type, like you do.” Tsarra nodded and motioned back the way they came from. “Which is, I assume, illusion magic, based on what you did back there?”
Lyrael simply nodded, refraining from mentioning her other three abilities. “So, I’m a High Elf?”
Wynn nodded, “Yes, you are.”
Lyrael thought about it for a moment, and everything slid into place. Anger and betrayal washed over her, and she didn’t glamour the tears away like she usually would. If Papa is a Half Elf, that means he lied to me my entire life, feeding me lies that Elves were dangerous, vicious monsters. Yet, Papa himself was one. Why? Why did he lie to me? Why keep the truth from me? Why was I glamoured?
She had dozens of questions and no matter where Anwel’s trail took her, she would have them answered.
One way or another.
“If it wasn’t for her, I’d still be on the back of that creepy guy’s horse.” Soni shivered, scrunching her nose in disgust.
“Oh, I see.” Wynn smiled and glanced at Lyrael. “Thank you, then. For saving us and Soni.”
That’s when Lyrael remembered Tsarra was supposed to explain what Lyrael was exactly, but it sort of got clarified by what she overheard when she returned to camp, which she did not quite believe. Surely, they must smell the Elven children on me, or the Elves from the village.
The group fell into silence and Soni suddenly gasped, grabbing her bag. She pulled out a small cloth pouch and waved it toward Wynn. “I completely forgot I have some ossa roots. It’ll help you heal faster.”
Wynn smiled in relief and murmured a thank you, watching as she poured some water into the cup and stuffed the pouch into the water. She closed the lid and partially buried it into the coals near the edge of the fire to steep.
“I think we should continue toward Allsgorath, as that seems to be the way Elys is heading, anyway. It’s the only logical direction, as going through the city is the only way to cross the river. I’d rather sleep in an inn than out here in the cold.” Tsarra explained, looking between all of them and then at Lyrael, her fingers playing with the small braid in her curly orange hair. “Plus, we don’t really have the equipment to sleep out here. At least, we don’t.”
Lyrael grimaced but hid her expression. Originally, she had intended to follow Anwel’s trail even throughout the night, with minimal eating or rest, if at all.
Wynn finally noticed the squirrels on the makeshift spit on the campfire in front of them. “Who caught the squirrels? I know both of you don’t really know how to skin an animal.” Wynn remarked with a smirk, and Lyrael just raised her hand briefly.
“Uh... I did. I skinned and gutted them.”
“Whoa, really, who raised you?”
“If I may ask, why are you tracking a halfy?” Tsarra piped up as Lyrael checked the squirrels again. After she decided the squirrels were cooked thoroughly, she took them off the fire to rest, stabbing the stick into the dirt so it did not lay on the ground. She looked back at Tsarra, unsure of how to answer her question.
“What do you mean?” Wynn asked, confused considering he was unconscious when they met.
“When we crossed paths, she was following a scent trail. A halfy, based on the smell.”
Lyrael tilted her head to the side. “What’s a halfy?” It wasn’t a term she was familiar with.
Soni laughed from her spot beside Wynn. “I’m sorry, but how do you not know what a halfy is? It’s a Half Elf. Which usually means they are half Elven and half human.” She explained, like it was common knowledge. “Whoever you’re tracking... they’re a halfy.”
Lyrael frowned and furrowed her brows at her claim.
“I didn’t even know they existed.” Lyrael explained as she checked the squirrels. Deciding they were cooled enough, she began passing out chunks of meat. “I didn’t know they were possible.”
Tsarra nodded. “They do, but they’re rare and they mostly live close to the Border, but they’re around. They stay away from big cities, as most people don’t approve of them.” Tsarra explained after she swallowed a bite of squirrel meat. “Do you really not know what you are?”
Lyrael removed the bow hooked over her shoulder, lying it on the ground. “No, at this point in time, I don’t know what I am. Twenty-four hours ago, I used to have black hair and blue eyes... and tan skin. I didn’t have pointed ears or gold eyes, and I used to live on the other side of the Border, with humans.”
Wynn frowned and hummed, sounding intrigued. “It sounds like someone put a glamour on you. There’s no way you’re human, you’re an Elf, through and through.”
“You’re a High Elf.” Tsarra murmured as she stared into the fire, flames dancing in her orange eyes. “High Elves have abilities, like the one you have. To be a High Elf, you have to have one High Elf parent and the other must be at least a Low Elf. Low Elves don’t have special abilities besides common magic, which is just basic levitation and enhanced senses, strength, speed, agility, and healing speed. Most High Elves have one main power type, like you do.” Tsarra nodded and motioned back the way they came from. “Which is, I assume, illusion magic, based on what you did back there?”
Lyrael simply nodded, refraining from mentioning her other three abilities. “So, I’m a High Elf?”
Wynn nodded, “Yes, you are.”
Lyrael thought about it for a moment, and everything slid into place. Anger and betrayal washed over her, and she didn’t glamour the tears away like she usually would. If Papa is a Half Elf, that means he lied to me my entire life, feeding me lies that Elves were dangerous, vicious monsters. Yet, Papa himself was one. Why? Why did he lie to me? Why keep the truth from me? Why was I glamoured?
She had dozens of questions and no matter where Anwel’s trail took her, she would have them answered.
One way or another.
⋆˙⟡ ☾ 𖤓 ☽ ⟡˙⋆
“So,” Tsarra cleared her throat as she fed more wood into their small fire. “Can we talk about why you’re following the trail of a halfy?”
Lyrael bit her lip, almost hard enough to make it bleed. “That halfy is my father and I believe something, or someone took him from our home.”
“Wait so... that means he knew you were a High Elf.” Wynn rolled his eyes as he pulled the metal cup of tea from the coals with a stick. “Humans can’t detect us by smell, but other Elves can. Which means he knew what you were for your entire life. That’s messed up, man.”
“Another question, which you probably can’t answer, and it’s mostly rhetorical.” Soni spoke up and Lyrael could barely force herself to look her way.
She felt frustrated. They were destroying everything she knew about herself and her life. Twenty-four hours ago, things were so simple. She was a human living in a human village, hunting for money and food, barely scraping by. And now, somehow, she’s a High Elf sitting around a fire with other Elves, who were supposed to be evil and vicious creatures. But they weren’t. They were nice and kind, besides for the soldiers.
“I think the tea has cooled enough by now,” Wynn murmured, sitting up a little further, removing the lid from the cup. Using a small twig, he fished out the tea bag and set it on the ground.
Soni sighed, “A halfy raised you, right? But my question is, why? Why did he raise you? You guys lived across the Border and you’re a High Elf living in human lands. It just doesn’t add up.”
Lyrael refrained from commenting, and Tsarra cleared her throat, glaring at Soni and shaking her head. Soni just waved her hand and continued, her expression determined.
“Like Tsarra explained, to be a High Elf, there must be one High Elf parent and the other at least a Low Elf. If a High Elf and a Half Elf have a child together, the baby will be a Low Elf. There’s no chance you could be his child. So, this halfy you’re tracking, he’s not your father.”
Lyrael just stared at her in shock, the realization of their words finally hitting her. She looked away and stared blankly at the fire in front of her.
“Way to break it to her easy, guys.” Tsarra hissed.
“All I know... is that he raised me, he trained me. He taught me how to use my magic.” Lyrael whispered. “He taught me how to fight and hunt. His number one rule was to never cross the Border and to stay in human lands. Growing up, he told me stories about how Elves were vicious and that they wouldn’t hesitate to kill me.”
Tsarra shifted forward, concerned etched into her features. “But you crossed the Border, anyway? Even though you believed we were vicious?”
Lyrael just shrugged her shoulders, struggling to respond as tears poured from her eyes. He fed her lies her entire life, making up stories to scare her from crossing the Border. But why?
“My father was... is an honorable man. He always taught me to help those in need. We were among the poor in our village, but I always helped others in need, whether they were better off than us. I helped you simply because... you needed my help.”
“Well, considering he lied to you your entire life about what you were...” Wynn trailed off, hesitating on his next words. “He doesn’t sound very honorable.”
The silence between them was deafening, and blood roared in her ears. She squeezed her hands into tight fists and dug her nails into her palms until it stung.
“Well, he’s not my father anymore. The man who kept this from me, my entire existence, he doesn’t deserve the title. But nonetheless, he needs my help. Something or someone took him. He didn’t leave our home willingly. I have to help him. He’s all I have.”
Tsarra sighed and ate her last bit of squirrel, swallowing it with a sip from her waterskin. “Well, luckily, we were already heading in the direction his trail was going. The only way to continue west is to cross Allsgorath, and there’s only one way to cross it.”
Lyrael glanced around at her new peers. “Allsgorath? What’s that?”
“Before the creation of the Border, the Allsgorath river was the original border that separated human lands from the Elven lands. The only way to cross the river is to go through the city that floats on it.” Wynn explained, and Lyrael just blinked, confused.
“How does it float on a river that dangerous? Does it not move?”
“I mean, yeah, it moves due to the currents, but it’s anchored to the riverbed by an ancient magic.” Soni said as she stood up and closed her eyes, holding her closed hand out in front of her. Lyrael felt a wave of magic ripple from her and a moment later, a small stream of water came out of the trees, presumably from the same creek Lyrael used to clean the squirrels.
So Soni has water magic. Good to know.
As Soni opened her hand over the fire, the water fell abruptly, as if remembering the concept of gravity, drenching the flames and leaving behind smoldering embers. A plume of smoke wafted into the air and Lyrael was glad it was dark, or else it would be seen by anyone nearby.
Then they left, Soni helping Wynn onto their horse and then climbed on in front of him, since she was smaller and not able to reach the reins around his large frame. Lyrael led them away from their camp until they came across Anwel’s trail and continued following it.
Lyrael bit her lip, almost hard enough to make it bleed. “That halfy is my father and I believe something, or someone took him from our home.”
“Wait so... that means he knew you were a High Elf.” Wynn rolled his eyes as he pulled the metal cup of tea from the coals with a stick. “Humans can’t detect us by smell, but other Elves can. Which means he knew what you were for your entire life. That’s messed up, man.”
“Another question, which you probably can’t answer, and it’s mostly rhetorical.” Soni spoke up and Lyrael could barely force herself to look her way.
She felt frustrated. They were destroying everything she knew about herself and her life. Twenty-four hours ago, things were so simple. She was a human living in a human village, hunting for money and food, barely scraping by. And now, somehow, she’s a High Elf sitting around a fire with other Elves, who were supposed to be evil and vicious creatures. But they weren’t. They were nice and kind, besides for the soldiers.
“I think the tea has cooled enough by now,” Wynn murmured, sitting up a little further, removing the lid from the cup. Using a small twig, he fished out the tea bag and set it on the ground.
Soni sighed, “A halfy raised you, right? But my question is, why? Why did he raise you? You guys lived across the Border and you’re a High Elf living in human lands. It just doesn’t add up.”
Lyrael refrained from commenting, and Tsarra cleared her throat, glaring at Soni and shaking her head. Soni just waved her hand and continued, her expression determined.
“Like Tsarra explained, to be a High Elf, there must be one High Elf parent and the other at least a Low Elf. If a High Elf and a Half Elf have a child together, the baby will be a Low Elf. There’s no chance you could be his child. So, this halfy you’re tracking, he’s not your father.”
Lyrael just stared at her in shock, the realization of their words finally hitting her. She looked away and stared blankly at the fire in front of her.
“Way to break it to her easy, guys.” Tsarra hissed.
“All I know... is that he raised me, he trained me. He taught me how to use my magic.” Lyrael whispered. “He taught me how to fight and hunt. His number one rule was to never cross the Border and to stay in human lands. Growing up, he told me stories about how Elves were vicious and that they wouldn’t hesitate to kill me.”
Tsarra shifted forward, concerned etched into her features. “But you crossed the Border, anyway? Even though you believed we were vicious?”
Lyrael just shrugged her shoulders, struggling to respond as tears poured from her eyes. He fed her lies her entire life, making up stories to scare her from crossing the Border. But why?
“My father was... is an honorable man. He always taught me to help those in need. We were among the poor in our village, but I always helped others in need, whether they were better off than us. I helped you simply because... you needed my help.”
“Well, considering he lied to you your entire life about what you were...” Wynn trailed off, hesitating on his next words. “He doesn’t sound very honorable.”
The silence between them was deafening, and blood roared in her ears. She squeezed her hands into tight fists and dug her nails into her palms until it stung.
“Well, he’s not my father anymore. The man who kept this from me, my entire existence, he doesn’t deserve the title. But nonetheless, he needs my help. Something or someone took him. He didn’t leave our home willingly. I have to help him. He’s all I have.”
Tsarra sighed and ate her last bit of squirrel, swallowing it with a sip from her waterskin. “Well, luckily, we were already heading in the direction his trail was going. The only way to continue west is to cross Allsgorath, and there’s only one way to cross it.”
Lyrael glanced around at her new peers. “Allsgorath? What’s that?”
“Before the creation of the Border, the Allsgorath river was the original border that separated human lands from the Elven lands. The only way to cross the river is to go through the city that floats on it.” Wynn explained, and Lyrael just blinked, confused.
“How does it float on a river that dangerous? Does it not move?”
“I mean, yeah, it moves due to the currents, but it’s anchored to the riverbed by an ancient magic.” Soni said as she stood up and closed her eyes, holding her closed hand out in front of her. Lyrael felt a wave of magic ripple from her and a moment later, a small stream of water came out of the trees, presumably from the same creek Lyrael used to clean the squirrels.
So Soni has water magic. Good to know.
As Soni opened her hand over the fire, the water fell abruptly, as if remembering the concept of gravity, drenching the flames and leaving behind smoldering embers. A plume of smoke wafted into the air and Lyrael was glad it was dark, or else it would be seen by anyone nearby.
Then they left, Soni helping Wynn onto their horse and then climbed on in front of him, since she was smaller and not able to reach the reins around his large frame. Lyrael led them away from their camp until they came across Anwel’s trail and continued following it.
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