> Por mir tu

>

> Phrase

>

> Translation: Thank You (Humbly Giving to You)

>

> Definition: In the Menschen language, "Por mir tu" is an expression that embodies a humble offering of gratitude. The phrase combines "Por," denoting a humble stance, "mir," signifying the act of giving, and "tu," a personal pronoun, culminating in a sentiment that translates to "I humbly offer my thanks to you." This expression goes beyond conventional politeness, reflecting a deep sense of humility and the giver's sincere appreciation. It is particularly used in contexts where gratitude is not just felt but is deeply and respectfully offered.

Jaer and Yeso found themselves in the Capital's docks, where the air was thick with the briny scent of the sea and the distant cries of seagulls.

Yeso, weary to his very bones, lay sprawled on the ground, his body ragged to the exhaustion that clawed at him. He draped an arm over his sour eyes.

The Tiefling paced like a caged animal. His gaze darted in every direction, searching for any sign of their tardy comrades. "I don't think they changed their minds, Yeso."

"Let's wait a little longer," Yeso murmured, his voice a raspy whisper borne of fatigue and stubborn hope. "I don't want to leave anyone behind."

"Yeso, I'm sorry to say it, but you're being stubborn. Muru and Redfred... they said they want to stay," Jaer countered, his tone laced with a mixture of frustration and concern.

"Let's wait, Jaja." The words fell from Yeso's lips, simple yet resolute like a prayer whispered into the gathering dusk. In the commotion that followed, the only sounds appeasing were the gentle lapping of waves against the docks and the distant call of a lonely seagull. Ignoring the bustling docks and the distant shouts of sailors fading.

Amidst this scenario, a maid emerged, her attire unmistakably that of the Capitol's uniform. The elegant lines of her dress contrasted starkly with the ruggedness of the docks, and her delicate features, typical of elfin heritage, shimmered in the fading light.

Jaer, restless, couldn't help but let his tail betray his impatience. His keen eyes instantly fell upon the elf maid. At that moment, a silent understanding passed between them—a recognition that Yeso's hope might be for nought.

"Are you Yeso?" the maid inquired, her voice a gentle melody amidst the harsher dockside sounds. She studied Jaer, whose tail continued its restless dance with the embarrassment of who realised their mistake too late.

"Do I look like..." Jaer said, a playful edge in his tone.

"No, you don't," she swiftly concurred, her gaze dropping momentarily to the wooden planks over Yeso’s figure next to her feet. "Are you..."

Before she could finish, Yeso interrupted, his voice tinged with resignation. "Yes, it's me. What is the word?"

With a grace befitting her kind, the maid retrieved an envelope from her apron and crouched to present it to the Commander. "They aren't coming," she declared softly, “Por Verzculpa”

Yeso, aided by Jaer's steady hand, rose to his feet. "Well... who am I to go against their will," he mused, his voice carrying a bitter edge as he tore open the envelope and scanned its contents. "They think they are more useful in the Capitol than Mir-Grande-Carta... as I see, I don't even deserve a why. Seems to become a trend."

"Commander..." the maid called out tentatively, a respectful bow punctuating her address. "Por mir tu… for all you are doing. Thank you for protecting the elves... as well."

Yeso's gaze met hers. At that moment, he understood the gravity of their situation. Once he stepped foot on that boat, the Great Exodus would take place, changing the lives of every creature in the world.

After not even a few hours on the ship, Yeso clung to the boat's railing, his stomach convulsing into the void despite its emptiness. The waves, a ceaseless lullaby beneath them, seemed to mock his misery.

"Yeso, you must rest! Please," Jaer pleaded. With a gentle yet firm grasp, he guided Yeso's weakened form to a nearby bench, cradling his friend's head in his lap. Jaer wiped Yeso's mouth with his sleeve. "You're in dire need of a bath."

"Do I reek that bad?" Yeso's words were laced with a bitter jest, even as his body rebelled against him. "Shit, I can't bear for her to see me like this."

"She likely senses your plight," Jaer reminded him, alluding to the Hexe that connected them. "Remember, it works both ways."

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"Fucking Scheida!" Yeso exhaled.

"First, she'll be furious, then she’ll be worried, and in the end, she'll be there to tend to you like she does every single time."

"I'm so fucking lucky," Yeso murmured. "So utterly fucking lucky! That woman was my salvation, and I didn't even know it."

"Indeed, you are," Jaer affirmed softly, padding Yeso's cheek.

"If I hadn't crossed paths with my Hexe, if... I would've remained confined... never to see the Sun again."

"Yet, fate wove a different path. You found her, followed the whispers of your heart, and here you are, striving to mend the fractures of this world."

"And failing," Yeso added, his tone tinged with self-reproach.

"But we tried nonetheless."

"Not enough."

"We still have the young prince to guide..."

"It would take nothing short of a miracle for him to master even one element... to grasp the complexities of alchemy, he must understand all four."

"Perhaps, as your Hexe was your beacon in the darkness, she might illuminate his path too," Jaer mused.

"Yes, she is," Yeso's voice faded, a smile threading through his exhaustion. "Jaer, may I ask you something?"

"Will it be about Finnegan?"

"No... not now. This is serious."

"Finnegan’s niceness is a very serious matter, but proceed, ask away."

"Swear to me, if you ever encounter a young girl named Eura, you will shield her in my stead."

Jaer was surprised. "Eura? Such an explicit name."

The name Eura, meaning 'I am the Sun' in their native Menschen, resonated with a newfound significance for Yeso. "I was ensnared in a peculiar dream, perhaps a hallucination... involving this girl... and you were there, aged and all. And in that dream, your affection for her eclipsed even that which you hold for me."

"Cherishing her more than you? Such a notion seems hard to believe. I scarcely hold Finnegan in such high regard, and I like his... 'niceness,’" Jaer quipped, his words ending in a light-hearted chuckle. "But why this fixation with this Eura?"

"She was always there," Yeso revealed, his voice heavy with a sombre undertone. "She was there, constantly, hungry, tired, and miserable. Each day brought new scars upon her skin... I mean, I endured the lash once and was held captive for a month, yet she... she bore the marks of a lifetime's imprisonment. She was not a child... but she was too young. Who does that?"

"Could she have been guilty of some crime?"

"Her only sin was mirroring my existence. I suspect that upon my death, the Sun might choose her as its new Master... she bore an uncanny resemblance to me. She had my eyes and my hair. She was small like my Hexe..."

"A daughter, perhaps?"

"Possibly."

"Rest assured, I would safeguard your child, Eura, or not Eura, with my very life. Yet, consider that your starvation might have conjured illusions because... would you truly name a child Eura?" Jaer probed gently. "Really? Even for you is too pretentious."

"No... I likely wouldn't." Yeso sighed with a chuckle. "Perhaps it was merely a figment of my imagination."

"Regardless, it's a comfort to know she was there with you where I couldn’t."

"So, let's laugh now, how was Finnegan? Did you find his broom stuck in his arse?" Yeso's attempt at humour dissolved into coughing, a harsh reminder of his weakened state.

"Almost, but... he's about to take the matrimonial plunge," Jaer responded.

"Married?" Yeso's voice cracked, his bafflement evident. "To whom? Who’s the guy?"

"He's vague about it. Says it's someone in Omrgrund with no interest in... the traditional aspects of marriage. He's indifferent about his heir, or so it seems. Beyond that, he didn't share much," Jaer elaborated, filling the gaps in their conversation. "He was busy with other concerns... if you know what I mean, and it’s a ‘she’"

"He's getting married to someone from the palace?" Yeso probed, his intrigue piqued, sensing a piece of the puzzle was missing. “A woman? Are you sure?”

"It's unclear... could be anyone, really."

"The only possibilities I can fathom are Veilla or..." Yeso's words trailed off as he plunged his hand into his robe pocket, retrieving the envelope from Redfred. "Scheida... the Winterqueen… Eura is real." Yeso finally mumbled.

"What's amiss?" Jaer inquired, his curiosity kindled. “What do you mean Eura is real?”

"I believe I've deciphered who Finnegan's betrothed is." Yeso finally read the letter sent by Redfred again and began to read aloud, "Myself and Muru have decided to remain, awaiting our brethren who return to celebrate a union of earth and ice."

"Redfred's penchant for ornate language never ceases to amuse me," Jaer quipped.

"Yes, 'earth' signifies the elves... 'ice' must refer to one of Veilla's twin daughters, Fiona, I think." Yeso pondered, more to himself, "But she's too young. Why would Veilla consent to this? And she's with child, which makes even less sense."

"My curiosity is piqued as to why Redfred and Muru are so invested in this wedding," Jaer mused. "I'm at a loss... but something about this feels... strange."

Jaer's gaze caught sight of a tiny white mouse as it scurried across the railing, swiftly vanishing into a narrow crack within the boat's floor. How strange indeed, he has seen plenty of little white mice.

> The Great Exodus happened in the first Winter I was born into but never witnessed. This worldwide event, lasting four Falls and saw a dramatic migration with 5,451 Cogs and Naus sailing the Red Sea towards Ormbrug. This fleet primarily carried Menschen and Fae, seeking refuge or simply to return home. In contrast, most elves chose a different path, remaining on the Great Continent under The Elven King's umbrella. This decision inadvertently contributed to the flourishing of the Green Mother Cult. Yet, the Great Exodus bore a poignant and personal tragedy. Many Menschen, in the chaos and heartbreak of departure, left behind their Halfling children—born of unions between Menschen and other bloods. These forsaken children, known later as The Nameless, were left to fend for themselves, devoid of family and heritage. Among them, Magi Mediah The Nameless emerged as a figure of resilience, embodying the struggle and spirit of those abandoned in a world reshaped by upheaval. But still, Magi Mediah made a name for himself even after suffering of Red Blood. Growing up, I could only hear and read about The Great Exodus, which was more than a mass movement; it was a catalyst for profound social and cultural transformations that continue to echo through generations. For me, it was the time I became myself an orphan, a Nameless.——Between Lore and Legacy: The Mystifying Histories of the Menschen Vol. IV by Professor Edgar O. Duvencrune