Jale had been watching the semi-transparent cougar perform its tricks, but the unease of a second invisible predator lurking forced him to remain alert. When Krun'gun commanded something in Orcish while gesturing towards the outsiders, he removed himself from the fence. Oh Divines, elemental, invisible pumas coming towards us? What is this place?

Before the commander could prepare, the cat fully vanished from sight, and a soft distorted outline leaped to stand on the stone wall.

Staring at the beast, he felt as his hands grabbed air, attempting to remove his missing sword out. A glance downward reminded him he still didn't have a blade, and when his eyes connected back on the shape a stream of water hit his face.

With a light exclaim, Jale stepped back and wiped a hand over his face to remove some of the liquid. While his companions gave a mixed reply of squeals and giggles.

Two identical off-white cougars now stood on the stone wall. Their backs were traitorin creamy brindle stripes and a solid brown line traced their spines. Bright purple eyes stared back at the tall man, shining with clear displays of health and joy. Lacing their necks were matching purple bands, glowing pridefully.

"Whoa," Roon uttered, admiring these beasts that were much bigger than him.

A call from the orcs and the pumas jumped down to return to their owners. Smooth gaits that promised little sound but great distance carried the pair.

As the first orc, the ringleader, took their spot once more and began speaking, the group watched Krun'gun and the other orc take their cats off to the side.

"And thus concludes the opening day of Bher'un Dro'a, thank you to all the lovely folk who showed up today! Make sure to visit tomorrow to see our wonderful cats show their hunting skills!" Darael had translated the Orcish before turning to wave his group on. "Come, I want to meet the cats!"

Jale hesitated but followed the warlock. "Cats, Darael, they're pumas! Wild, dangerous beasts."

The ginger scoffed, barely throwing a glance back at him. "They're domesticated, beautiful, graceful creatures. We have hounds, they have cats."

Roon wagged his tail in light amusement. "He has you there, Jale. If these orcs live with and train these animals for a living, why should they be any different from your hounds? Or the elves' antelope?" Of course, the zerdal had said this in Zerdalian.

Irritated, the commander crossed his arms, one hand resting on his shoulder as he followed his company. He didn't have a counter, but the thought of approaching the cougars bothered him. No, don't lie... The cats don't scare you.

They were quiet until reaching the pair of orcs, with Darael greeting his friend in Orcish.

"I'm glad you made it out, I was worried you would have stayed home!" Krun'gun laughed. "But here you all are."

Roon perked up with his standard zerdal interest. "It was lovely! I've never even heard of renitrekas, let alone their impressively rare talent."

Wait a second, if they had invisible, fire-starting, large, predatory cats on their side. Why didn't they use them during the war? Jale wondered quietly, watching from a few steps behind.

"They're very rare to find, and even if you do find them not all will take to this lifestyle," the orc explained, clicking his tongue.

In response, one of the cats lifted a large paw. Thick and covered in fine fur, it had to be bigger than the humans' hands.

The zerdal reached out and gently took the paw, which the cougar shook before retracting the leg to return standing.

Both Darael and Roon giggled in delight. With the ginger offering the other animal a pat on the head.

"Oh, they're so beautiful! Shame for not telling me what you had." The warlock huffed. "What's their names?"

Krun'gun's partner responded this time. "It was a surprise, why do you think rah was keeping you here so long? As for names, the female is Dro'a, and the male is Draeg."

After an expectant look from Roon, Darael added. "Fire and Dragon."

Jale huff a soft sound. "Fitting."

The pair of cats looked up at him after he spoke, causing those purple glares to ensnare him. Almost as if warning him not, or even daring him, to do anything. And just like that, he understood what was wrong with the beasts.

Putting his hands down, he crouched and offered a hand to each cat. "Oh I'm sorry, we're those two not giving you enough attention? Huh?"

Someone said something in Orcish, then Trollish, but Jale ignored them and gave the cougars some pets.

Very thick and tightly pact fur covered their bodies, protective against the weather and physical scratches. Solid and well-built muscles sat on their shoulders, perfect for making those high and long leaps.

Dro'a chuffed, curling her tail in a relaxed manner, while Draeg pushed against the human's hand eagerly.

"Yes, yes... My attention is superior, I know."

Darael chuckled and squatted next to him to pet the female. "Sooo... No hard feelings for spraying you?"

Jale shied away a bit, now conscious about how public this area was. "No, it was just part of the show. No harm."

The warlock nodded. "Good, still think they're, what was it? Wild, dangerous beasts?"

"No more than you."

Both Roon and Tesk laughed at the comment, with the orcs saying something in their language. Oddly, Darael displayed embarrassment afterward, a tilted-down head and a rosy hue joining his pale complexion.

I wonder what they said to make him shy up so much. Jale shifted his eyes back to the cougars, giving the male some ear rubs.

Placing his large paws on the commander's shoulders, Draeg butted his heavy skull against the human's head.

"Sweet Divines! Gah, you weigh too much!" The tall man exclaimed, stumbling back a step.

"Very vicious..." Roon mused, chuckling before excusing himself.

Tesk laughed. "These beasts are nothing like our gator-eating monsters back home."

Krun'gun nodded giving a command that got the puma off Jale before responding. "Rer'gun found them as kits, siblings starving and covered in... What do you call them, land leeches?" The orc snorted and shook his head. "Dying. Rah found them dying. We nursed them back together and now they're pretty much our family."

The troll hummed softly. "Cute. I'd say they have your eyes... They have your ears for sure."

"Don't be rude, these cats are more beautiful than Krung and Rer combined," Darael said, patting the male before standing up.

Reg snorted a laugh. "Adopted family is a good way to ensure your kids look better than you."

Entertained at the light banter, Jale gave the cougars a bit more attention before standing up. "I think we should head back... It's lunchtime and I need to fix my bow."

His human companion seemed a bit disappointed. "It'll be fine one more day, we don't plan on going anywhere soon."

"I do agree, I can only stand being around so many animals for so long," Tesk said playfully.

Krun'gun reacted in Orcish, then nodded. "Lunch would be nice, save me some."

Darael sighed dramatically. "Fine, if we must. Goodbye pretties! You were so amazing today, oh yes you were!" He cooed to the cats before turning to the tall man.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"Think Roon can find his way?" Tesk asked as they began walking off.

The commander nodded. "I believe he can, he's got incredible senses. Plus he knows where the house is."

----------------------------------------

Two solid weeks had flown by as the group enjoyed the fun of Gorh'un, almost forgetting they had to see the elves entirely. But, between the unusual snow patterns in summer and a few rampant goats, Tesk became stressed to get moving. The troll's demeanor had changed completely from her laid-back, observing nature; to a tense, controlling personality.

Eventually caving in, the group had agreed to leave the orc city and head south. Leaving civilization once again had been a bit disheartening, though for the humans it just meant reality had caught up. With Jale forced to accept he was going to come face to face with elves, and Darael understanding he was closer to his punishment.

They had traveled for a handful of days, barely half a week, when the warlock began showing small displays of anxiety. Being more eager to chat or organize their supplies, even accepting an invitation to join a hunt.

While odd it started so late, Jale couldn't say it surprised him. Nerves and fear before an elven punishment was something he saw all the time.

As he laid in the wagon watching the sky above, he could feel his human companion shifting a bit beside him.

"What do you think we should make tonight?" the tall man asked his company.

Darael sighed a light huff, shrugging. "I don't know, more goat?"

"Just roasted goat?" Jale turned his head to look at the pale man. "I thought you liked cooking?"

His friend lazily met his gaze. "When there are ingredients to play with, sure."

The tall man scoffed. "We have plenty of ingredients you could use to make something more interesting than stew or slabs of roast."

"Like what?"

Running a hand through his hair, Jale went quiet as he thought about it. Finally chiming up. "We have a tiny bit of fruit left, and plenty of potatoes, squash... I'm sure you could whip up something."

Darael watched him comb his hair, curiously inspecting the thick mane. "Perhaps..."

The commander blinked over at him. "What?" Questioning the way the warlock stared and trailed off.

"Nothing. Just, what color is your hair?"

Even though that question seemed reasonable, the tall man didn't know how to respond. They already know I'm half-elf, I don't have to hide it from them... But, if I let my appearance slip up now, no telling who at home may find out. He ate his mind away with worrying thoughts until his companion nudged his arm.

Darael had elbowed him gently. "Don't worry about it... Maybe your age is just starting to show."

With a sheepish and soft chuckle, Jale sighed. "No, I'm not that old. Naturally, my hair is kind of... White? White, blonde, and tan, if I remember correctly."

Roon popped in with a question. "You don't know the color of your own hair?"

"Why three colors?" The warlock asked almost over the zerdal.

"Well, field elves have fur-like hair instead of traditional hair." Jale paused to mess with his hair. "Their hair stops growing at a certain length, standing up to help them blend into the grassy lands they live in. And no, I've been dying it so long, I don't remember my own combination."

Frowning a soft pout, the pale man looked up at the sky. "You shouldn't have to hide such stupid things. Your mother was an elf, who cares?"

"The king, he cares." Was all the commander could think to say.

Tesk glanced back at them. "The King can swallow a hive of wasps. He's not been very kind to the land." Her usually angelic voice had been replaced with a low growl.

The troll’s threats sat above the tall man, forcing him to shrink up and bite his tongue. She's absolutely right, King Trevino has been nothing but a problem. A heavy sigh fell from his lips. And I've pledged my life to serve him.

A soft touch brushed his arm, unlike the jolt Darael gave moments ago. Darting his gaze down, he spotted a pale hand patting his forearm. Slowly Jale brought his blue eyes to meet the other's green lures.

"If you're killed on the job, what happens to your family?" The warlock inquired gently.

Though the physical contact drove him crazy, the commander didn't react. "Well, unless I'm marked as a tratior, or commit other various crimes, my aunt will continue getting payments."

He desperately searched his friend's expressionless eyes, seeking a hint or sign for this behavior change. Once again, the only reasonable conclusion he could think of was manipulation. Unable to actually harm, or even care if he was being manipulated, all he found himself able to do was pull his arm away a touch.

As he laid his arms on his stomach lazily, the warlock looked away and nodded. "I see, well... Just wondering why you don't run away and let them presume you're dead."

"Lying about one's state of living usually never bodes well," Roon said, "I imagine if you retired she would still be paid, right?"

Jale tore his attention away from the pale man to sit up. "Sure, but... Then what would I do? I would lose my purpose."

The zerdal cooked his ears. "And what is your purpose now? To kill people who disagree with one man?"

Divines... When you put it like that, it sounds stupid. "This job is almost all I know. I don't just imprison people, I protect my city too."

Tesk turned her torso to face him. "You said almost, what other kind of life do you know?"

"At this point, probably traveler." Darael chimed in with a light amused tone.

"I used to work the stables, working with the horses was some of the best experiences in my life." Jale tilted his head a bit. "Traveling is fun when you don't have to do it for a year or more straight."

The troll laughed. "You think a year is good? I can hardly stand a few months before it bothers me."

Roon gave a playful scoff. "A year is nothing, I don't even have a place to call home and crawl back to."

The group laughed at the zerdal's comment, all four of them settling into the cart to enjoy the scenery once more.

Scattered ebony trees and knee-high blue-green grass had slowly been replaced with the meadow. Trees vanished and for miles, all one could see were rolling waves of golden grass. The grass stretched up high enough to touch the driver in the wagon, taunting everyone with its steady wave.

"Great Divines... I've never seen grass so tall," Darael muttered, breathing out in soft awe.

"You think the swamp is a pain to traverse." Jale paused to scan the top of the grass. "At least there only one thing turns invisible."

The warlock looked up at him. "Everything turns invisible here?"

Nodding gently, the commander looked at the pale man. "Illusionary gifts grace this land. If not invisible, they have plenty of other tricks to mess with you."

Roon shushed them, halting the cart to scan the surroundings. Why a zerdal was getting so tense in an unfamiliar place was beyond Jale, but he would follow where the short creature looked.

Ears twitched here and there, snapping around to identify each sound. After a few seconds, his head swung around to listen on the other side.

That's really weird, he shouldn't be so paranoid already, plus he's a zerdal. Nobody harms them. The commander glanced at his friend before climbing out of the wagon. His line of sight sat just on top of the grass, with his tall frame really putting the height into perspective for the others.

"Perhaps we should set up camp, it's nearly dusk anyway," Jale suggested, turning back to the group.

"Here? Where the completely passive person feels threatened?" Darael asked in disbelief.

With a nod, the commander gestured around them. "We don't know where the elves are, making a camp here is the best way to find them."

Tesk made a noise but returned a nod. "I suppose you're right. Come on Roon, let's make a camp."

The zerdal grumbled in Trollish before moving the cart into the grass—away from the safety of the path.

While nothing eventful happened as they made camp, or even ate and slept. In the morning Jale could feel the difference in the wind. Cold and hostile. The cool air wasn't even refreshing under the beating sun, just a generally miserable region to be in.

Grass constantly grazed their skin, giving them all the sensation that bugs were eating at them. Which made the group more than eager to get up and back onto the path.

As Jale worked on cleaning the campsite away, a chill raced down his spine. A dull humming clawed at his mind, pushing him to lock up in his spot.

Moments of uncertainty on what to do passed before he turned his head towards the others. "Elves."

"What, where?" Roon asked, shooting up from his position.

"I can't explain it, but even with the King's elves, I can feel when they're nearby."

The warlock didn't give any snarky comments, instead choosing to creep closer to the commander. With Tesk following.

The zerdal grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. "Well, let us try to make a good first impression, then."

Jale felt the vibrations of his companions moving, which was weird. I've never felt so much movement before... It feels weird, I'm sure that's not normal.

Wind played with the long blades, which danced along with it. For the longest of time only nature made any noise, everything still without remaining motionless.

"Are you sure?" Darael questioned, hesitation wrapped around his words.

The commander surveyed the edge of the camp, wondering if he was sure or not when his eyes connected with a set of bright curious eyes. Shining blue, they stood out against the golden grass, and after a short staring contest. They moved.

Coming eye to eye with Jale, they blinked and seemed to inspect him.

"Yeah, see. I knew it." The tall man glanced at his company.

Tesk gave an uneasy laugh. "Pardon?"

Returning his gaze to the pair of eyes, Jale titled his head. "Guess you can't see them. I just don't know how to tell them we don't mean any harm."

"We could smell your intentions on the wind, fear not. You carry heavy weight with you, Wikeds no doubt." The feminine voice filled his brain, giving him goosebumps.

"He's the one that wishes for help," the commander said, gesturing to Darael, "I'm supposed to be helping."

Roon chittered softly. "Jale?"

With a shimmer of blue, a tall figure appeared in front of Jale. Darker, warmer skin than his own filled her sleek frame. A pair of pointed ears twitched to focus on the whole group at once, while her sharp blue focus settled on each of them one by one.

"Afraid physical tongues are hard. Follow, be welcomed." The elf's speech had struggled but was more than understandable.

Jale gave a nod. "Thank you."

With a gesture to follow, the elf stepped into the grass wall. Vanishing behind a golden curtain.