Red waved her forward and said, "Let’s go see Dwindle."

Poly was unsure, clutching her hands to her chest. "Slave auction." Her elf ears had picked up on those frightful words used by the robbers. Stories of elf enslavement had traveled far and wide throughout the land of elves, telling of how greedy human slavers were to capture elves. Such tales induced much fear among elven kind. To be personally faced with such a threat had shaken her.

But as their stare held for a moment, Poly found a friend behind this young man's eyes. No, she was mistaken. She saw her old friend, a wolf from her village, a beast that relentlessly whimpered for food but never harmed the villagers. She wouldn’t say it out loud, but the young man held the same simple eyes as the wolf, like he was a beast himself.

She found herself nodding and then following him, though she kept her distance. Her size was the only childish feature about her. She was no fool to trust strangers completely.

A wagon had been parked just outside the eastern gate. A stout figure could be seen throwing packs into the back of it. A whistle of a dwarven tune came to them carried on the wind as they approached.

“Dwindle,” Red called out as soon as they got close.

“You already done with your morning training, champ?” Dwindle asked, his small eyes focused on his task.

“I’ve found another dwarf!” Red cheered.

Poly cast a sideways glance at him, her face incredulous. Did he not see her ears? She had lost her cloak hours ago. The pointiness of her ears was bare for all to see.

“Hammer and wrench, why would you bring around some dwarf…?” Dwindle began to say, but caught sight of the person behind Red, who was standing only at the young man’s thigh in height. “Ahweldi…” He murmured.

Poly coughed to clear the awkwardness of Red’s false introduction, “I’m Poly of the Ahweldi. Greetings, sir dwarf.”

“Do you know Dwindle?” Red asked her, his eyes curious.

Both Dwindle and Poly stared at Red for a few moments, Dwindle the first to break the silence, “She’s an elf, champ,” the dwarf clarified. He also wanted to explain that not all dwarves knew one another, but he would leave that subject for another time.

Red gave Poly a sideways glance and shook his head, “Mama never said anything about elfs.”

Dwindle this time coughed and said to Poly, “I’m Dwindle of the Gorune. What are you doing here of all places? This isn’t a city welcoming to elves.”

Remembering what she went through to get here, Poly could feel tears on their way, but she held them back and replied, “I’m traveling to Antherai.”

Dwinde’s small eyes went up and down her dirt-stained figure, shaking his head and said, “We don’t have much, I’m afraid. The only thing we can offer is a bit of food and water.”

Poly could feel her pride hurt. She had never before been looked at as an elf in need of alms. She’d always been dutiful and responsible—the most responsible, according to her friends, at least back when they were her friends. She found her head falling low. She wouldn’t deny any food offered. Her stomach had been growling since she woke up.

Red nodded his head, “You can come slay trolls with us.”

Both Poly and Dwindle stared wordlessly at Red once again.

“Champ,” Dwindle began, but Red carried on.

“Dwindle helps me with food and a bed,” Red informed Poly, “You can help me with that too.”

Dwindle started to suspect the champ was still thinking he and Poly were somehow the same both in race and function.

Poly recognized an opportunity and said before Dwindle could speak, “I can cook with mana.”

Red checked with Dwindle if that was important and by the look on the dwarf’s face, he could see it was.

“I also can clean,” Poly began, “And I’m a singer.”

Dwindle knew of their budget. This immature troll quest they were about to embark on wasn’t going to cover everything that they’d spent. Red’s equipment had taken most of his savings. Dwindle’s eyes fell upon the wagon he’d purchased recently. It was without sage symbols—a plain wagon, yet it took the remainder of what he had.

His home had rent due soon. The champ ate more than twice the amount of an average man. They couldn’t afford to bring in another.

“How are you with vegetables?” Red prodded the elf girl.

She put on her best smile, though her eyes were beginning to tear up. The dwarf seemed to be denying her already. She had nothing left. She didn’t know where to go from here. Her golden eyes went up to the tall young man.

He was her hope here, the young man with the eyes of a docile wolf.

She spoke with the voice she’d use for music, clear and upbeat, “Vegetables enriched with mana are hard to find, but I can grow them! I’m of the Ahweldi. Though we can’t grow them as fast as sage symbols can, I can still grow them quickly using my own mana.”

“Elf magic doesn’t work here, lass,” Dwindle said, his eyes understanding, but pragmatism kept him realistic. He was a dwarf. Dwarves didn’t speak of dreams or lofty goals. All that mattered to a dwarf was what was possible, and affording to feed another mouth now was not.

Poly felt as if the land shifted beneath her. The dwarf was right. All this time, she couldn’t speak to the land here.

Red nodded as if he could understand what the elf was expressing. “So, you can grow vegetables?” He asked, trying to get her to say something he could recognize.

“Yes,” she nearly shouted, her eyes coated in tears on the verge of being released. “With or without elven magic, I can still grow vegetables.”

Red nodded again, getting the gist of her abilities.

“Champ…” Dwindle began.

Red gave Dwindle a hard look and said, “I need meat and vegetables, Dwindle. I’m too small. I should be a light heavyweight, but I’m stuck as a lightweight.”

Dwindle wanted to argue, but Red had used unfamiliar terms as he'd often do, causing the dwarf to lose his words.

“I also need meat,” Red said to the elf girl.

“We have rodent and bird meat, champ,” Dwindle cut in.

Red denied, “That isn’t going to help with my gains, Dwindle. I need real protein that can help me build muscle.” Dwindle became lost again with the champ’s unfamiliar phrases.

Poly nodded, “I’d warrant I’m the only elf you would encounter that can cook meat well.” She paused as a memory of her exile surfaced momentarily, but she cleared it and continued, “I have what human’s call a ‘siren’s call’.”

Dwindle’s eyebrows rose as he doubted, “That is quite the claim.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“It only works on beasts,” Poly explained, “I can entrance them in song. You’ll have your meat easily enough.”

“Your elven magic doesn’t work—“

“It isn’t elven magic,” she interrupted then immediately quieted.

“…well, then what is it?”

“It is…magic of the old world,” Poly said and by her expression, she wasn’t planning on elaborating further.

“Let us be off then,” Red declared, “to hunt a troll.”

Dwindle shook his head, but kept his peace. Poly let out a hefty sigh of relief.

“You won’t regret this,” Poly said to Red who nodded, and to Dwindle she said, “I promise I’ll be useful.”

Dwindle had given up, already thinking of selling his home. Red was a thorough investment that was sure to pay off. The dwarf just didn’t know when and had to take proper measures. The dwarf returned to the packs still needing to be loaded as Red went to introduce Poly to the goat.

Poly petted the goat’s head and spoke elven magic to it. The goat was unresponsive, busily chewing away at cud.

Sir dwarf was right, she thought dejectedly. My magic is no good here.

Mimicking her, Red leaned closer to the goat and also whispered. He looked back to Poly and scratched his head.

Poly found herself giggling. Red didn’t know the reason for her merriment and laughed with her.

“You’re an odd human,” Poly surmised.

“My mama said I wasn’t born with smarts like normal people,” Red explained.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Red shrugged. Poly’s eyes remained fixed on him. He made her mind too curious.

“How are you so different than when we met at the forest? It’s like you transformed into a different person,” Poly observed, “Even the way you speak is different now.” She remembered the young man in the forest was more talkative and spoke with unfamiliar phrases. He also referred to her as “sister”.

“It’s the thoughts,” Red answered, “Whenever I feel excited or nervous, someone else comes out.”

Poly didn’t know what to make of such a revelation.

“I thought it was bad juju,” Red went on, “But I think the thoughts help.” He leaned closer to her with his eyes lit up, “It made me into a champion.” Red loved when Dwindle called him a champion. Both fighters in each set of memories he owned thrummed excitedly at the word. He knew the title to be a good thing.

“I was not so smart before and couldn’t make any coin, but now I’m doing well.”

“Magic is not something to take lightly, Red,” Poly advised.

Red shrugged and went back to whispering to the goat.

A voice called out to Dwindle, “Hail, Dwindle.”

Dwindle looked up and saw a man in his thirties speaking to him, but he couldn’t be certain of the age. All the faces of humans under forty looked like toddlers to dwarves. The man approaching was dressed in iron armor, with a shield on his arm and a sword at his hip, and a simple iron helmet dangling from a belt. His face was unassuming with features that could be found on nine out of ten faces—someone that would go unnoticed in a crowd.

Dwindle recognized him. “Hail, Goser,” the dwarf returned the greeting.

“My, what a time to be alive,” Goser said airily. “To think you would be hunting trolls with just a two person team. What improvement and what fortune.” His eyes caught sight of Poly, “Is that an elf?”

“We were never on such terms, Goser. Don’t pretend to be friendly with me,” Dwindle chided, “I find it insulting.”

Goser withdrew inwardly. He had forgotten how straightforward dwarves could be, having had only the most fleeting dealings with them in his life, never willing to suffer under their tempers and love of arguing.

“What have you come to me for?” Dwindle asked, pushing packed tents into the back of the wagon. “And shouldn’t you be in the white rabbit district? You transferred there nearly a year ago.”

Goser threw up his hands helplessly and replied, “Sir dwarf is right. I should be there instead, but I’m shunned for where I come from. Getting into a team is difficult when high-class Hunters regard you as dead weight due to being low born.”

As Dwindle went to open a pack to check its contents, he remarked, "Why not join a faction then? That’s what all those of low birth do, and I don’t blame them. It is hard surviving in the upper districts without status.”

“I was never one to be part of a crowd.”

The dwarf nodded, accepting Goser’s words as true. Dwindle knew this particular human to be a loner, even when a part of the guild branch in the Classy Slums. No one Dwindle knew would call Goser a friend. Neither would they call him an enemy.

Like his face, Goser’s reputation didn’t stick out much. After five years in the Classy Slums Hunter’s Guild branch, he’d moved up to the branch guild in the white rabbit district, leaving behind no legacy or lasting memory. Some Hunters there had no idea he was ever a member of the Classy Slums branch guild.

It was still a marvel that he’d moved up without connections or spectacular accomplishments to his name.

“So, Goser,” Dwindle said, finally pushing the last pack into place and turning to face Goser while rubbing dust off his hands, “What have you come to me for?”

Goser held up a piece of parchment that read at the top, “Immature Troll Subjugation.”

“Sorry,” Goser apologized to Dwindle, “I had no other choice but to get Euness to allow me to join your team. Like I said, it’s hard to get onto teams in the upper districts.”

Dwindle shook his head, thinking of the share of reward they’d have to give up. Now with the elf girl to look after, the loss of that share stung. The dwarf began to feel like today wasn’t his day.

“Alright, Goser,” Dwindle said, “Let us be off then. We’re departing now.”

Goser stared at the wagon and the goat then back to Dwindle. “How are we all supposed to fit in there?”

“We don’t. We’re walking. That’s a goat at the head of this wagon. It wouldn’t be able to hold us along with the packs.” In truth, the goat could take on Dwindle and Poly, but the dwarf manager wouldn't allow the champ to walk while he or anyone else rested.

Goser glowered. For a moment, his eyes dashed to Red talking to the goat and then breathed out deeply.

“Fine,” he accepted with gritted teeth, “Let us be off.”

The three hunters along with the elf walked from the white metropolis and towards a jungle location that was a week away. Throughout the trip, Goser's presence was hardly noticeable, with him always keeping to himself and only answering questions with as few words as possible. He even denied food when offered, choosing to eat out of what he brought.

From time to time, Red would catch Goser staring at him, though when he tried to exchange words with the lonesome Hunter, Goser wouldn’t say much.

Poly was more than overjoyed on the first night to be filling her stomach with something. During their trip, she displayed her ability to call beasts and proved her claims to be true. Additionally, she also cooked the bird and rodent meat they’d brought and made them burst with flavor. Dwindle was unable to explain the difference between their methods. She used the exact spices he would use.

Poly explained mana cooking unlocked potential of all food and roused dormant mana, especially in beasts with life cores. In some cases, a master of mana cooking could make something edible out of food that had begun to rot. Also, mana cooking did not rely on elven magic, so Poly had no trouble using the technique.

A week later, they arrived in a humid and sticky jungle. The sounds of beasts were audible in amongst the thicket like a symphony with no rhyme or rhythm. Dwindle roughly pulled at his collar, feeling bothered by the humidity and heat.

“The quest says that the immature troll had made its home here and has been harassing a nearby town. It also says that we should be looking toward rock formations where these types of creatures are known to make their nests,” Dwindle expressed, his round eyes skimming a parchment with the quest description written. Goser nodded along behind him.

Poly kept close to Red, sensing the jungle was hostile to all creatures, including elves. In elven lands, beasts of the wild weren’t friendly, but they did not attack elves readily, feeling a certain attachment the stewards of the land, which elves were. Here, there were no monsters that felt anything toward her kind besides the need to attack.

But as she thought of the nature of this land, an idea sparked within her. Perhaps she could start to ally with nature here and free her elven magic from the constraints this land has placed on it. She cupped her hands then raised them to the sky, a light forming in her palms.

“What is the elf doing?” Goser asked. He had never met an elf before and felt like he was in the presence of a ghost or a strange species of beast.

“She’s trying to speak to spirits,” Dwindle answered then shook his head and said to Poly, “You’re wasting your time, lass. This land doesn’t communicate to the civilized races like our lands do.”

Red watched her interestedly, unsure why a light was in her palm without a sage symbol present.

A figure of light the size of a hand started to descend unto Poly, formed as a fairy with wings on its back that fluttered elegantly. Eyes like jewels opened as the fairy like creature stared with wonder at the elf that had called it out of its dwelling.

Poly smiled widely. She spoke with elven magic, “I am a friend.”

The fairy spirit threw a cloud of glowing dust in her face that roughly knocked the elf down. The spirit then went into a fit of giggles. Poly had been dazed, holding her pained head as the world spun around her, a line of blood leaking from the back of her head. The spirit remained laughing until a hand suddenly captured it.

Red held the spirit in his hand then squeezed. In a puff of vibrant smoke, the spirit died.

Dwindle gawked, “Champ, did you just kill that jungle spirit?”

“Oh,” Red responded, confused, “It attacked Poly, so I attacked back.”

Getting back her senses, Poly rose with a hand on her head and asked, “Red knows magic?”

“No,” Dwindle said, “I don’t know how he killed it…”

“What am I missing here?” Goser asked, saying more words in this setting than he’d said the entire trip here.

Poly answered, “You can’t kill a spirit without mana. They’re immune to physical attacks. Unless Red used magic…”

The pontificating was cut short as Red shouted, “Let’s go kill us a troll,” then began walking in the wrong direction.

“This way, champ,” Dwindle urged and led their small team on a trail headed for a cliff face.

Crunching noises echoed within a damp cave.

The corpse of a woman in simple clothing dangled loosely in a hairy, blotchy hand as a creature with grotesque skin stuck her into its mouth and chewed loudly. The corpse’s bones made snapping noises as the creature’s jagged teeth gnashed up and down. The cave floor was splattered and slick with blood. The creature suddenly stilled, hearing a voice from outside its dwelling.

“Troll,” the voice yelled, “Come out and get some!”