They had stayed at an inn some distances away from their original resting place, but because they were planning to return to the play before dinner at around four, the route Lytha had planned for the day included the attractions that led up to the theater. Well, most of the attractions were food and eye-shopping. Perhaps it was because Lytha had planned it, but there was an awful lot of side-tracking to stores with clothing. Eilae seemed to relish the whole experience, chatting with Lytha about the quality of fur and imports from the north—and of course, Shaden was very bored.
His aunt, he understood somewhat. For the past two years, she hadn’t had the luxury to shop for new clothing as her hands had been tied with him. Being a woman, it was natural that she liked to adorn herself with pretty clothes. She had never told him directly that she enjoyed these things (she often stated that simple was best), but looking at her keen eyes scanning the shops, he realized that she, too, was a maiden at heart.
Eilae, he understood less. Were young girls really this interested in fashion?
When he asked her about it, she told him, “Appearances are very important; your dress says something about your position and character,” to which he shook his head. He really didn’t like politics.
However, the boring hours were cut short; his party members were very decisive people who knew that buying new clothing would only burden their travel. So, for the most part, it was eye-shopping. But it wasn’t as if the whole experience was excruciating for Shaden either. In fact, he enjoyed looking through the clothing. Elven dresses fit tightly to the skin and enhanced the body’s features. They were usually accompanied by a loose overcoat, and because it was winter, the majority of the clothes included thick cloaks on their figures.
For Shaden, the best part about the trip so far was the food. The local dishes served at restaurants were mostly elvish food, and Shaden discovered that elves really liked their dishes to be soft and easy to swallow. The fish and meat were very tender, and the plants and fruits that accompanied them melted at the tip of Shaden’s tongue. The taste was a bit on the mild side, and the food went down smoothly down Shaden’s throat. There weren’t any shocking spices, but he caught some interesting aromas from some of the dishes. Overall, elven food was something that anyone could enjoy without much difficulty.
However, Ofphlendum was a city of trade. The river it rested within attracted the dark elves from the west and the beastmen from the north. While most of the products were here to depart to other destinations, some cultural marks could be seen within the dishes of some of the restaurants.
For example, the party had lunch at a small restaurant where a beastman was cooking dishes on a frying pan behind a counter. Unlike the elven restaurants, the place looked a little crude, but that in itself was something to be appreciated. The strong smell of spice hit Shaden’s nose like a small hammer, and he instantly realized the heat of the room. After taking off their coats and ordering a few dishes, Shaden was presented with something that reminded him of fried rice.
He was sweating within minutes, sipping water as fast as he could. When he glanced over at Eilae, he found her cheeks and lips red as a tomato. Her expression was blank, but she too was sipping her drink at a rapid pace. The winter cold seemed nonexistent when he was within that shop, and it left a strong impression in his mind.
Around two, he took the slip of paper out of his pocket and read it. Then he went to his aunt.
He confessed that he would rather explore this new place than go to the theater. She asked if he knew the way there, and he replied with, “I could ask people.”
Lytha knew more than anyone else what a smart kid Shaden was. So with a shrug, she gave him permission. Shaden was honestly surprised at her willingness, but before he could question her, she had vanished with Eilae to take a look at beauty products.
Just like that, Shaden made his way to the shop.
〄 〄 〄
The bells attached to the doorframe jingled when Shaden pushed his way open into the store. It had taken quite a few minutes to find it. The old elf hadn’t been lying; it really was a small store. Located in an area between two larger buildings, its signpost and address swung weakly in the cold winter air outside. There was a modest window next to the door, but he could hardly say that the place was a store.
The inside was less spacey than he expected. The place, though long, was very narrow, which didn’t make sense as the building from the outside had looked thicker. A long counter took up the space on the right, so the only place where he could really walk through was the area right in front of the door.
Considering that it was a store, it didn’t have any items on display, just some paintings hanging on the walls. Small white lights illuminated the place with a weak hue, and the place smelled musty like aged wood. Shaden frowned. But he knew he had come to the right place when he saw the old elf leaned back against an armchair, snoring slightly.
“Sir…Merina?” Shaden breathed while tiptoeing towards the sleeping elf. His short height was bothersome; he could only see the elf’s ghostly white hair and head beyond the counter.
The elf didn’t respond, and if he did, Shaden couldn’t see it. He continued to snore away like an old man on an afternoon.
Well…Shaden hadn’t expected this. There weren’t any chairs he could sit on either, so he stood in front of the counter, thinking of what to do. Should he wake the elf up?
He thought about exploring the place, but there wasn’t much to explore. In the midst of his awkwardness, his savior emerged with the sound of a door opening at the back.
“Master, I heard the door open—”
A handsome looking (then again, all elves were good-looking) elf with long brown hair made his way out of the back door and spotted Shaden before the counter. His keen, green eyes moved from Shaden to the old, sleeping elf, and he let out a small sigh. His eyes turned to Shaden once again.
“Welcome. Do you need something?” he asked kindly.
Shaden took out the piece of paper from his pocket and raised it above his head to the elf.
“Sir…Merina said I could…receive a prize?”
“Sir Merina?”
The elf had a confused look on his face, but realization dawned on him, and he smiled.
“Elves only use honorifics in special occasions, human. Just call us by name.”
Shaden nodded, and the elf came out from the counter. He approached Shaden and took the piece of paper from his hand and inspected it.
“You’re that boy from yesterday! Master told me how you saved him from some rascals.”
“It wasn’t anything special.”
The elf stuffed the paper into his pocket. “A good deed requires a prize. Usually, Master would pick one out for you, but…”
The old elf’s snores continued to fill the room, and the young elf’s face had a look of worry on it.
“Does he sleep often?” asked Shaden.
The elf nodded. “Old elves usually do. Do you want a drink?”
After Shaden’s approval, the elf went over to the back and reappeared with a wooden cup in his hand, the slender, long one. Shaden accepted it graciously.
“Can’t you wake him up?” asked Shaden. He immediately regretted it after seeing the elf’s face scrunch up a little.
“You should never wake up an elder elf,” he said. “Remember that, human boy.”
Shaden nodded quickly, cursing his lack of knowledge. Had he been very rude? He knew he was a child, so it wouldn’t be as bad, but he felt like he had touched something very sensitive judging by the elf’s reaction.
“I need to go back to work. Do you need a chair?”
“I can stand.”
“Okay. Call me if you need anything. Master should wake up within thirty minutes or so.”
The brown-haired elf closed the back door behind himself, and Shaden was left once again in the room with the sleeping figure. He took another sip out of his cup. It was like sweet water.
He was adept at waiting. So he stood in his position motionlessly, taking an occasional drink when he became thirsty.
Finally, the old elf stirred. Slowly at first, but the top of his head made a small swaying motion. His wrinkled face twitched, and his eyes slowly began to open until they revealed his irises. He sat there silently like a statue as if he was lost in thought, still in a half-sleep state. But quickly enough, the life returned to his face, and he yawned once.
“Hello.”
The elf looked beyond the counter when Shaden greeted him. Upon recognizing Shaden’s face, a small smile rose to his lips. A very, small smile, barely recognizable.
“You came here rather quickly,” he admitted. “Were you that eager for your prize?”
“I had nothing else to do,” Shaden replied. “And…prizes are nice.”
“Yes, they are. Indeed, they are.”
The old elf got up from his seat. “So, human child—a prize for you for your help. A debt must be paid.”
There was a series of opening noises Merina rummaged through whatever was within the counter. Shaden couldn’t see it, but the contents beyond his view sounded like a lot. Metal hitting wood, wood falling, glass tinkling. But finally, the old elf found something and placed it on top of the counter.
“Take a look,” he told Shaden.
Shaden touched the item and pulled it towards him. He lifted it up from the counter and held it before his hands, taking a look at the cover. It read:
[Elveathin].
He had no idea what that meant, so he flipped open to the first page.
It was a picture book. He scanned the contents of the remaining pages, and sure enough, they were filled with pictures with words.
“Well, boy. Do you like it?”
Nothing too much and the pictures were beautiful. The printing press had already been invented in this world, but it was a great item, nonetheless. A good, relatively thick book for his tastes. He was also curious about elvish books as he had never read any of them.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Shaden nodded. “Can I really have this?”
“It holds no use for me anymore. Please, accept my gratitude.”
“Thank you.”
The old elf smiled. “Now, Shaden. I’m curious about your character. Would you mind joining me for some afternoon snack?”
Shaden looked around. He still had a lot of time left. “If it doesn’t bother you…”
“Not at all! Come, beyond the counter.”
Upon the old elf’s invitation, Shaden went over to the side and passed through the opening in the counter. Merina opened the door where the servant had previously gone into, and Shaden followed right after him.
Beyond the door was a small workshop. Bundles of paper lay scatted everywhere, and the few tables that were within the room all were covered with various materials, including mana crystals. It was still mostly paper though, though a great amount of them had items laid on top. To the sides of the room, countless drawers decorated the walls. Compared to the reception area, this place was around three times bigger, perhaps even four.
Shaden gazed around while the brown-haired worker cleared a table for them to sit on. Merina sat down on one of the chairs, and Shaden followed his example.
“Yillia, bring us a snack,” said Merina to his worker.
“Master, can’t you see that I’m busy?”
Despite his complaints, the brown-haired elf went to the side of the room and prepared two plates and a pot along with a cup.
“What is this place?” asked Shaden. Despite its messiness, everything looked to be in order. Items on paper, neatly separated while being together.
“We appraise things, I suppose,” said the old elf. “No, no. Appraisal is what the adventurers do. We are not that crude. We…hmm.”
“Read the memories of objects,” interjected the worker while bringing two plates of a bread-like snack. He placed the pot on the table and the cup in front of his master. Shaden already had a cup.
“Yes, yes. Read memories.”
“What does that mean?”
“People are fond of their possessions which they are fond of…no, that doesn’t sound right. I must be going senile.”
“Master, don’t joke about that. Please.”
The old elf let out a snort. “Go back to work, Yillia. I’m not senile yet.”
Merina squinted his eyes and stroked his small beard at the tip of his chin. “Simply, objects hold memories. Dear memories for some people. We read those memories and write them down. Every object holds a story, and we are the storytellers.”
It wasn’t a job that had existed in Danark.
“How do objects hold stories?” asked Shaden. “I mean, they aren’t alive.”
“Mana, my boy. Even inanimate objects are affected by the mana of living beings. The stronger the bond with its owner, the deeper its memories. For example, there was this one time when I received an artifact, a moonlight necklace from one of the High Elves. They wanted me to read it. So I did! I wove my magic and glanced within the memories of the necklace. Don’t give me that look, Yillia. No one cares about a story from two hundred years ago. And yes, as I was saying, marvelous memory. I wrote it down, romance and all. Now, the story has been made into a play.”
“That sounds…”
“Marvelous, does it?”
The old elf let out a hearty laugh but stopped as he had begun to cough. Yillia quickly came over and helped Merina take a drink out of his cup.
“Thank you,” muttered the old elf.
“Please, don’t become overexcited,” replied his servant.
The old elf breathed in deeply and let out a sigh just as large. “Now, memories are all I have,” he stated.
“Don’t say that, Master.”
“Hmm…I may be wrong. But that’s enough talk about the past. Shaden, you are very peculiar. Never have I heard a human who speaks Nflerin with an elf’s accent. Were you adopted, perhaps?”
“No, not at all.”
“Born here?”
“Passing through.”
“Taught it since birth?”
“I—just know how to speak it.”
“And chantless magic. Where did you learn that from?”
“I taught myself.”
“Self-taught!”
The elf blinked twice before taking a gulp out from his cup. “Why, just from looking at books?”
“You could say that.”
“You must love magic very much!”
Shaden glanced at the snack in front of him. “I love magic. It’s simply marvelous.”
“Yes, it is.”
Shaden touched the bread-like item on top of his dish. It was dry and a little powdery. He could probably eat it in one bite, which he did after seeing Merina plop it into his mouth.
They talked about a few more things afterwards. Where Shaden had come from, why he was traveling. There wasn’t any harm in letting the old elf know, so Shaden told him about his trip while omitting many details. How he was on a journey to experience the world.
The old elf, in turn, told Shaden about his shop. How it was many centuries old, how they had kept the art of item-reading through the generations. How people nowadays didn’t appreciate history as they did before, to which Yillia replied, “We still receive many customers.”
Time passed by quickly, and Shaden checked the time with magic under the table.
“I need to go now,” he said. “My tutor is waiting.”
“Of course. Today was a very memorable experience.”
The old elf leaned forward. “I can do you a special favor. Do you have items that you want read?”
Shaden paused at the question. He hadn’t actually seen this memory-reading in person, so he was definitely curious. It was a new type of magic, after all. He had his dagger with him, and it would have made more an interesting read, but…it was probably not wise to show the memories of his dagger. Even he himself could feel the ominous flows the weapon gave off.
“No. I don’t have anything special.”
“Are you sure?”
The elf’s eyes, though old, looked curious, like he knew something. Shaden shrugged.
“I am sure.”
“That’s a pity. You must be on your way now. Don’t forget to take the book.”
Shaden thanked the old elf who rose from his seat to escort Shaden out of the room. He looked frail, slightly hunched as he was. Yillia supported his master with one hand while he moved.
“Will you come back, boy?”
“I’m…not sure.”
“Ah, yes. You were traveling. A pity.”
Shaden thought he saw the elf’s eyes hover over his chest area where his dagger was stored. But the glance was replaced with a weak smile.
“Be on your way now. And take care of the book for me. It is a splendid book.”
“I will. Thank you, Merina.”
Shaden gave the old man one last wave with his hand and departed to group up with his companions.
〄 〄 〄
“What a lovely story.”
“It was very charming. I admired the ending, and the twist with the Fairy Mother at the end—”
The two ladies continued to chat about the play. Shaden was glad that Lytha and Eilae had gotten much closer than they had been before. There had been a kind of tension between them, especially with Eilae trying to be polite and lady-like, but ever since Lytha had taken care of Eilae during her sickness, she had become…more open about her emotions. She expressed more, smiled more, even if it was just by a little. But it was a noticeable difference.
“Shaden, you missed out on a great experience.”
“Don’t bother with him. Once he makes his mind about something, he’s harder to change than a boulder.”
However.
However! He felt excluded now. Just because he had missed out on one experience, they were treating him like an outsider. No…that wasn’t it. Just because of that one play, something had clicked between them, and now they had become closer than he could ever imagine.
As a result, he hadn’t been able to say anything during dinner, and no one seemed to care about his experience at Merina’s shop. The world couldn’t always be about him, but it still felt bad, nonetheless. Since before, they had always been focused on him.
“What’s so great about romance anyway?” he said.
“It’s not about the romance,” explained Eilae. “It’s about the couple’s determination to go against fate, and their resolve to…”
Shaden was only half-listening by then. Perhaps it was because Eilae was from a noble family, but she sure was into drama. He had been surprised to discover this new side of hers, and it boldened the differences between someone who had been training most of their life and someone who had actually been studying. He wondered if she had been made his companion for this purpose. To show him the different sides of society.
He was well-educated, no doubt. He knew about literature thanks to Demund. The different literary devices, the plot progression tools, climax, themes, and whatnot. But it had never been his favorite subject.
Come to think of it, what was his favorite subject? His mind fell into contemplation as he chewed on his food. Why was he studying so hard? To reach a higher level, no doubt. But day after day, his goal seemed more unrealistic—
“Are you listening?” said Eilae with a tiny pout on her face. “I can stop.”
“Huh? Oh, sorry. I spaced out for a second. What were you talking about?”
“………”
She was quiet for a brief moment. “I apologize,” she said. “We should talk about something more interesting.”
“What? No, no! I didn’t mean it to be—”
Shaden placed his hand on his head. “I didn’t mean to be rude. Sorry.”
An awkward silence began to creep up, and Shaden began to feel a slight tinge of uneasiness just when his aunt smacked him on the head lightly with her hand.
“Ow.” Shaden looked at his aunt. “I deserved that,” he stated meekly.
“Yes, you did,” she replied. “I always tell you to stay focused when someone is talking to you. How many times has this been?”
“A lot,” he muttered.
“Sometimes you’re excellent at focusing, sometimes you are horrible at it,” said Lytha.
“I’m still a kid. Kids have low attention spans,” Shaden joked.
“Hah……you’ll learn sooner or later.”
The rest of their dinner continued on with fewer words.
〄 〄 〄
The party walked down the streets after their nice meal. Since they had ridden boats the day before, Shaden suggested that they simply walk around the city and enjoy the sights. Elven lights had this sort of mystical golden glow to it, and the city of trade never grew dark no matter the time. He also hadn’t been able to exercise all day, which was why he was currently circulating after his tutor instructed him to.
Eilae was also circulating, and Shaden could sense her mana moving throughout her body. It was a gentle flow, like a clear stream of water going down a brook. Everyone had a feel to their circulation, and Eilae’s was very gentle and calm, steady and consistent. You could usually estimate how much mana someone possessed through their circulation. There was this pressure in the flow, like a dam letting out water. Considering Eilae’s circulation, she seemed to have an adequate amount of mana. But surely less than Mistilia or even Rother.
He could never tell the amount his aunt possessed, however. She always kept it concealed with her skill and had instructed him to do the same, which he was. If anyone was spying on them, they would only be able to feel Eilae’s flow of mana among the group of three.
“There’s surprisingly less wind here,” commented Eilae, her breath forming a cloud of mist before her. “It was quite strong when we were on the boat yesterday.”
“The buildings are probably blocking it,” said Shaden. “See how tall they are?”
In fact, the buildings of the city blocked everything beyond their structures. So at their location, the outside of the city couldn’t be spotted.
The weather was still cold, but they had their coats equipped. The three continued to enjoy the night, walking slowly around the vicinity. The time was past eight, and the stars could already be seen in the skies, including the silver moon. The lights were just right, dim and moody, soft on the eyes.
They walked along without being disrupted. Shaden noticed that Eilae’s eyes were falling down sometimes. She looked tired. He yawned. It had been another fun day.
“Where are we staying tonight?” he asked.
“Hmm…I’m not sure. Why don’t you decide?”
“Okay. I’ll keep an eye out for inns.”
He felt something weird with Eilae’s mana and managed to support her in time just as she tripped on a loose stone. She woke up, her eyes wide.
“Ah…! Thank you.”
“Are you tired? Do you want to go to sleep?”
She blinked a couple of times and let out a weak smile. “I’m certainly exhausted,” she admitted.
Shaden looked over at Lytha, who stared back at him with an observing eye. He mouthed at her to help Eilae, but she shrugged, motioning that she was tired too. Shaden squinted his eyes. He was tired too.
“……get on my back,” he told Eilae.
“But—”
“At this rate, you’ll fall over.”
Eilae looked at the ground quietly then nodded. Shaden kneeled down, and she put her arms on his shoulders. He positioned his hands so that they would be able to support her weight. Thanks to their thick coats, there wasn’t that much awkwardness in the act, and he got up once she was comfortable. She was incredibly light.
It was time to find an inn. While walking along, he kept an eye out for signs. Surely, they would find one soon.
For around ten minutes, they continued to walk. Shaden felt Eilae’s head droop on his back. She was probably falling asleep.
Then someone just had to break the peace.
Shaden jumped to the side just as a figure ran out of the corner and tried to ram into him. In a very obnoxious way, the figure fell on the ground and began to groan excessively.
“Ahhh!! My back! Something’s gotta have broke! Help, I got hit!”
It was a boy’s voice, very young and squeaky. Then to the side, another scream filled the air.
“AHH!!! I’m sorry!! Ow! OWW! Let go!”
His companion had tried to do the same to Lytha but had been caught in an arm-lock in the process. His head was against the floor, and his arm was almost bent in an unhealthy position. The assaulter’s hood was off, and a pair of fluffy ears stuck out from the top sides of his head.
Shaden recognized his voice. And those furry ears.
They were the pair of beastmen that had tried to rob the old elf. And just like before, their acting was…
So crude and awkward.
The younger beastmen was now confused, unsure of what to do. His older companion had been caught, and fear formed in his eyes. He began to shake.
“What are you doing, Prem! Help me!” shouted the older beastman.
At his command, the younger beastmen ran towards Lytha but was kicked away with ease. After falling to the floor, he curled up, covered his ears, and began to whimper.
Seeing his companion’s weak figure, the older one attempted to escape, but the grip on his arm became stronger.
“Aunt, I know these two. They’re thieves. I saw them yesterday at the theater.”
“Shaden, go get one of the guards. They can take care of these two.”
“No, please! Not the guards! Please, I’ll do anything!”
Shaden ignored the teen’s cries and walked over to the whimpering figure. Eilae was still on his back, and she hadn’t said anything, so he used his foot to expose the beastman’s face.
The boy was very small, and his skin clung onto his cheekbones like leather. There was a nasty scar where his right ear should have been, and his eyes stared at Shaden with fear, his dry, cracked lips trembling.
“P-please. N-not the g-guards,” he stuttered.
This was someone who was starving. Shaden looked over at the other beastman again. He, too, looked malnourished, and parts of his face had visible scars on it. He hadn’t noticed them before.
“I beg you,” cried the beastman, “Please, don’t turn us in!”