Autumn scents floated on the chilly breeze, promising a cold winter and lots of change. Jale stood at the end of a small trail that barely traced through the thick grass. Gray painted the sky, warning of an approaching storm and blocking the natural warmth from reaching the lone man.

He didn't necessarily mean to go off alone, not while many beasts were preparing for winter, or while a storm brewed, he just had. Needing a walk to clear his head, it seemed reasonable to do.

After many months on the road with Roon, Tesk, and Darael, he found himself hating his old life and even his old self. I don't believe much of what I used to anymore. Protection? Seems a lot like segregation now. Domesticate the land? More like destroying it... The humans are but a weak species pretending to be bigger and tougher than they are. Many of us can't even make a fire with maegik. I used to think only wild monsters were powerful in maegik, now I know only the strong are...

His mind shifted as he sat down along the small creek at his feet. And there's nobody stronger than Darael, physically or mentally.

Peering into the slow trickling stream. A wild, almost carefree, elf stared back. No longer did a stressed and depressed commander appear. Most of the weary lines around his face had vanished, making him look happier.

Jale had come to accept and appreciate the elf life, even loving his natural-born appearance. Though the training was the hardest thing he's done, he could tell it was helping already. Imagine how happy the Divines will be when I give them an elk and can offer good emotions for once.

Smiling at the thought, the lone man rolled his head back to look up at the sky. "First time I've seen real rain clouds in… Divines, ten years?" His smile grew. "I hope the marsh is getting some of this"

The dark man remained where he was for a long while, watching the clouds billow above. Letting his mind wander all around to fill his head with carefree, and maybe forbidden, thoughts. Until a voice stirred him from his daydreaming.

"Jale? What are you doing out here all alone?" Darael's voice asked.

Glancing over, Jale saw his friend walking over. "Just wanted to clear my head, that's all, I don't plan to go any further."

The ginger nodded an acknowledgment, stopping to stand right next to the commander. "I'm not the best at it, but since you help me, it's only fair I return the favor... Talk to me?"

The dark man brought his gaze down, back to the water's edge. "It's just stressful, the upcoming hunt, the changing seasons, the divines. Everything is starting to weigh me down, but just like in Bogsgate, I have to tread onwards."

"Jale..." His friend gave a soft sigh as he sat beside him. "The Divines have been around for an eternity, I think they can survive a bit longer in mild depression—plenty of us do it."

Weird that he's being serious for once. "Yeah... But remember their mild depression only makes mine worse, which makes theirs worse..."

"And dwelling on the endless cycle of the never pleased beings of stupidly emotional spirit dust makes everyone depressed."

Jale huffed a soft chuckle, but it didn't last. "Past... However long it's been, everyone I've spoken to has told me the same thing: "You're the one to fix the world". That tends to cling and make one worried."

Giving the commander a light smack on the back of his head, Darael shook his head. "You're very good at seeing what others want of you, but man do you have to work on seeing what you want from you."

"I want this though."

The warlock cocked an eyebrow. "You wanted to travel all across the hostile continent with an unstable warlock criminal, a chatty, curious, handsy zerdal, and a stern, human mauling troll? Only to stress out the whole way?"

Falling silent, the dark man scratched his shoulder. When put like that, no. Instead of responding, he watched the river's surface as light ripples appeared all around. Small sparse raindrops had begun falling, the grey clouds heavy enough to let go.

"So what on Solith do you want?"

Jale grumbled and shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

Another impact hit his head.

"It literally does. More than anything in the world."

The commander lifted his eyes to look over at his friend. "I thought you didn't think the Divines were that connected to everything or something?"

Darael turned his head away. "I don't recall saying it was important to them."

A pause before Jale nodded. "I see… I'm not sure you want the truth."

His friend scoffed gently, looking up at him once more. "I do. Why else would I ask?"

With a deep breath, Jale glanced down while he thought. Bringing his gaze back towards the warlock's encapsulating eyes, he gave a meek shrug. "I can't have what I want."

Darael stared up at him, offering a confounded blink.

"What?"

The warlock shot a look to the sky. "And, what is that? Your human life back?"

Jale furrowed his brows in light confusion. "What? No."

"Well then what is it? It's probably only out of reach because you don't want to try."

The commander took a deep breath and shook his head. "It's not that I don't want to try. I really do… I just don't want to ruin what's already there."

Darael stayed quiet for a long while, and the commander respected it. Eventually, the ginger scoffed. "You're an idiot."

Before Jale could respond, his friend continued in a now semi-nervous ramble. "I tried to make it obvious, I thought I was doing good. Last moon when you saved me, I thought maybe… Maybe there was more to it."

The tall man elbowed his companion gently. "Here I was, overthinking your simple actions. Assuming I was making up a connection and that you would never."

Both the men found themselves looking out towards the water's surface. Steady raindrops were now falling, bringing sound to the silent grasslands. Was this conversation really going the way Jale hoped?

Sighing, Jale dropped his gaze to look at his hands. "I want you. It's the last thing on my list, the only thing missing."

Darael sniffled a soft sound, before nudging him. "So, you have meant those confusing thoughts?"

The dark man moved his head to look at his friend. "Wait, when did the elves—..."

Smiling, the warlock interrupted. "They didn't do anything, it's one of the 'forbidden' elf spells I learned while in school."

Jale dipped his head a touch while a warm sensation crept across his cheeks. "This whole time, you've been able to hear our thoughts?"

His friend hummed, almost in amusement. "Technically speaking, yeah. But, I do have to focus on a person to do it, and some people are really good at keeping spells like that out."

"How long have you known?" the commander asked softly.

With his smile growing blissfully sly, Darael trained his eyes skyward again. "Before we made it to Gorh'un, that day by the river was when it finally clicked for me. It was a rock, it was such a stupid thing… Yet you did it for me anyway."

And then he added, "Plus you wouldn't shut up about the hair, how pretty it was."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Jale groaned in embarrassment. "I wasn't thinking in the moment… I was so confused by the rock."

"I know, that's what made it so good." The other man teased.

The commander looked up at his company. "Do you think this is even… possible?"

Darael brought his head down so he could return the gaze. "What? Courting each other?"

The two fell silent, both quietly mulling over what had just been brought up. Even as the rain picked up and slowly soaked them both to the bone, they remained still.

Captivating green eyes, with swirls and flickers of purple, shined with optimistic zeal, while the naturally pink lips curled in a smile. Darael's eyes moved a bit to observe the commander's face, but his content and confident expression never wavered.

Jale had no idea how long they sat there staring, but he decided it had been long enough. He took his arm and reached out, gently his hand grabbed the warlock's fine face. When the other man didn't shy away, he leaned over and let his eyelids fall shut.

Soft warm lips met his own and a delicate hand rested itself on the dark man's neck. Ecstatic it was well-received, he pushed his kiss into his companion.

A light buzz filled Jale, spreading from the points Darael touched him and couldn't contain a shudder. Not from distaste or cold, but instead from the energy spreading from his partner. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before; electrifying spurts prickled through his head and around his chest. Even down in his fingers, he could feel this odd tingle. Whatever it was, it felt amazing.

When they pulled apart, the warlock ran a hand over the tall man's arm.

"Is the cold already getting to you?" Playful words spoken through a large grin.

Jale hummed, returning a giant grin. "No. No, that was pure joy, don't worry."

His partner scanned him over but flushed after a moment. "Such a shame it's raining... Or I'd—I'd ask..."

Quickly hitting the commander what Darael was hinting at, he also gained a—albeit harder to see—pink hue. "Oh, well... At least nobody should be wandering."

"Well, Commander, if you think you can have fun. Neither of us are going to be needed for a while I'm sure," the ginger teased, giving him a soft kiss.

Humming an intrigued sound, Jale huffed. "I'm capable of having fun."

Darael slid out a light giggle. "I want to see you relax, Commander."

As the warlock said that, his hand pressed into the exposed skin on Jale's chest. The light-dyed tanned leather only covered the right pec and side, leaving plenty of skin exposed to the elements.

Pressure prompted the commander to lie back, the slick mud cold against his body. Looking upward he saw the ginger crawling over him, the red cape of silky hair falling down his shoulders to brush against the ground. Barely touching the tall man's arms.

"Well, Commander, it would appear the tables have turned and you're now at my command," Darael whispered.

Giving a soft nod, Jale brought his hands up to grab his partner's sides. "It has been like that for a while, let's not lie about it…"

His companion giggled and leaned close, kissing him with a deep passion.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Four whole weeks of travel and the group of elves had made it, finally. Jale was in the front beside the other Leevier, Vrielich, as they crested the hill.

All the sightseeing he had done the last year paled in comparison to the view he saw now. An unfathomably large tree that dwarfed every other tree he knew of stood proudly in the center of a large valley. Shimmering blue wood shot up from the ground, demanding attention as the branches spiked off to hold the violet-tinted leaves miles above the ground.

Standing in pure awe, all the hybrid could do was stare. He had no words. But, a single thought crossed his mind. Darael would’ve loved this.

“Come, we do not wish to keep them waiting,” Sei’naeve said, nudging the two on.

Behind the two Leeviers stood sixteen of the best hunters the entire Golden Field elf population could offer, plus four elven guide seers. An event they would never miss. Each group of hunters had two elk, with the eastern elves also carrying a foal and an antelope. The foal had been found dead with no obvious wounds, so they took it to give it rest, and the antelope had drowned. “Take no more than you need, but waste nothing either” was a way of life every race followed.

Everyone but the humans.

Jale followed Vrielich down the sloping trail, still stunned by the sheer beauty of the tree. He knew it was sacred, but this surpassed his expectations by a long way. As they approached the tree, he could feel—and even hear—the energy that radiated from it, it came through the ground and air, bringing him to grin. Indescribable feelings crawled through his body, but it was welcomed.

“Speak truth, gain freedom,” Vrielich spoke, breaking the hybrid from his thoughts. “Divinities will know.”

Nodding, the ex-commander looked at her. “Of course, I’m here to fix my mistakes, not make new ones.”

Sei’naeve snorted gently and pushed past them. “That failed already.”

Jale knew the elf was talking about the warlock, nearly the entire journey with them he has continuously commented on the unforgivable relations the two had. Which he didn’t understand, the elves told him to work on being happy, and now that he was they wanted to take it away from him?

With a sigh, he followed the elves down to the roots of the tree. They emerged from the soil like serpents, winding and tangling around, seeming to pulsate as it shimmered.

Even with the elves bearing down and judging his every move, the grand tree pushed his shame aside. It’s so… unbelievable, it’s beautiful and sings such a beautiful song…

“You can hear it?” one of the hunters asked.

Glancing back at them, Jale nodded. “Yes… It’s hard to describe, but yes I can.”

Vrielich smiled at him. “Only Leeviers can hear it.”

“Really? What is it?”

The woman shrugged. “Guess is the Divinities, but tree could also sing.”

The thought that only a handful of people in the world have ever heard this energy sound made Jale feel special, more so than being the best commander ever did. He was glad those mysterious chains of events happened to lead him here. Never before has he felt glad to be an elf.

“Now what?” he asked, gazing back up the trunk of the tree.

Birds of all kinds could be heard calling to each other, but that was not the sound he heard. It sounded like a heartbeat, only less rhythmic and more sporadic. Perhaps he heard life itself, or perhaps some animal climbing the tree?

Sei’naeve chuckled, bringing the rope he held up a touch, lifting the elk’s head. “Feed.”

“How?”

Vrielich gestured for them to follow as she climbed up onto the root system. “Put where the tree eats.”

Though it took some time, they were able to get all the animals tucked securely into the roots of the tree, definitely a new challenge Jale never thought he’d have to do in his life. But, once the offerings were tucked in their spots, the guide seers led the others through a soft prayer, which the hybrid barely understood.

After everything was done, Vrielich nudged Jale and turned to the trunk. “The best place to speak is in the head.”

Before he could ask what that meant, the woman began climbing the tree. She called for him to follow, and as he hesitated, the rest of the elves pushed past to begin their own climb.

Divines, what have I gotten myself into? The hybrid watched the group for a moment before taking a deep breath and following their lead. Surprisingly, the tree trunk was easier to climb than he originally thought, the way the colors pulsate made it look smooth. That wasn’t the case, however, the wood was rough with thick plates of bark that easily held their weight.

Challenging, but rather swift, as the hybrid got higher up, the more he realized how hard coming down maybe. And divines-forbid you fell from this height.

Once among the branches, the elves spread out along the thick limb, resting all along the wide bottom ones. Each one of these old arms was big enough to easily support the whole group, but for reasons a bit beyond Jale, each quartet of hunters sat on a different branch, leaving the Leeviers and guide seers on the biggest.

“So, what do we tell the brain?” Jale asked as he knelt on the wood.

“Tell them the truth, what you are, who you are. And why they shouldn’t kill you.” Vrielich’s voice rang into his head for the first time.

“Just, ”hello I’m Jale“?”

The woman furrowed her brows slightly and looked him over. “Truth.”

Sighing, the hybrid gave a single nod, he knew what she meant. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to do that. To tell them, would confess I’ve been wrong for so long… He brought his eyes to the higher branches, searching for something, but he didn’t know what.

Thump, thump, thunk. Thunk, thud. Thump, thump, thunk… The weird heartbeat was louder up here, especially as he stopped to observe the tree. Birds of all kinds could be seen through the leaves, singing, fluttering, living.

Jale nodded softly to himself and glanced at his companions, each one seemed to be in some form of meditation, probably speaking to the tree. But, he didn’t feel right doing that, no, instead he walked over to the trunk and made his way into the higher limbs. Higher and higher he went, further and further from the elves.

Finally, he sat himself on a branch, well he straddled it. It was but a twig compared to the lower older ones. With a sigh, he rested his forehead against the trunk and closed his eyes.

“I… I do not think I belong here. I know the history lessons of my… of the humans. Cursed and shunned by you, they made so many mistakes to get here. Why are they still here? Are they beyond your reach?” He paused to open his eyes and look off to the side, watching the birds. “Do you regret anything you’ve done? Do you regret giving humans such power, to begin with?

“They said to speak the truth, so I am. I don’t belong here. Part human, part elf, but a full mistake. Humans don’t want me, the elves don’t want me, why have you been so hard on me?”

Though now Jale was a bit angry, he tried to keep himself level-headed. Knowing it wasn’t fair to blame the Divines for his own mistakes.

“Do you regret giving me to my mother?” he asked, resting his chin on the trunk so he could gaze upward. “If you hadn’t, your link to the world wouldn’t have been tainted, you wouldn’t have felt such pain and poison… The humans call me Jale Varden, but my mother named me Jal’Elrris Vadren. I’m sure you know that already, they said to tell the truth though.”

Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind and he moved his head again so his forehead pressed against the bark. “If humans were cursed if they can’t hold maegik anymore, why was Darael born?”

A warm prickle hit his shoulders, and before he could look to see what it was, a voice draped his mind. “Jal’Elrris… A product of joy, a mention of peace. Darael Snyder… An unintentional necessity.”

The sound was musical, yet grating, comprehensible, yet, nonsense. Jale was left in awe as the voice resonated in his mind, fizzling into silence.

“Whoa,” he exclaimed lightly, sitting up and looking around. “I’m, I’m sorry. Why would you bless him though?”

Unfortunately, the mysterious voice didn’t respond again.

“Hello?”

Still nothing.

After a few minutes of quiet, Jale decided to rejoin the group. Carefully making his way back down, he noticed the birds had gone silent too. Odd, maybe my presence was finally noticed.

As he reached the bottom branch, he was met by curious looks from the guide seers. While Vrielich looked on expectantly.

“He—llo…”

The woman approached him and brought her head in to look down at him. “Answered you?”

Jale rubbed his forearm and nodded. “I think so, wasn’t very much though.”

“Answered… What say?”

The hybrid shrugged a bit. “Just that I was a product of joy, and a promise of peace.”

Vrielich brought her eyebrows up and tilted her head. “That all?”

“Well, and uh, that Darael was an accident, but is needed.”

Sei’naeve seemed to have issues with that, as he jumped down from his branch and hissed lightly. “No need for a human warlock. Useless.”

“He’s not useless,” Jale argued back, stepping towards the elf. “He’s got a use, everyone does. Just because you don’t like him doesn’t make him useless.”

Standing tall, showing his height over the hybrid, Sei’naeve pulled his lip back. “Dislike him, a lot. Distract you with… poison thoughts. A man needs a woman.”

That was not the first time the ex-commander had heard that statement. Years of being told what was and wasn’t right by the standards of old folk who can’t even tell you what color the grass is had trained him to stay silent and nod along. But, not today. It doesn’t matter what someone else thinks, why can’t people just be left alone to be happy? Why must someone be happy by someone else's idea of joy?

“No. If he hadn’t, if he never came into my life, I would never be happy. He makes me happy, why is that a bad thing? Would you rather crawl back to my miserable life and let the Divines keep punishing you?” Jale shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand, you’re blind. You are all. Imagine, imagine an elf, blind to the Divines.”

A solid impact hit his temple. Immediate stars filled his vision, leaving him a bit dazed as he recoiled from the sudden attack.

Hisses came from all around, and as his eyes focused again on the angry elf, he could only see rage. Sei’naeve seethed in front of him, being grabbed and yelled at by the others. Yet, his face said he wasn't listening.

"A bad Leevier. Gave nothing but suffering, all humans do."

Jale put a hand out, Blinking away the haze. "Sei'naeve, I'm trying, if I can be part terrible human, why can't you see my elf half too?"

Snarling, the elf pulled away from his restrainers and lunged for the hybrid. "Any amount of human is bad. Ruined. The land you walk on dies. Bad things happen to friends."

"My friends are fine… Remember I got rid of the Wikeds in him."

Sei'naeve hissed sharply and pushed his victim into the trunk. "If smart, the elves gave warlock back where he belongs."

Jale gasped, the sturdy bark that added his climb to freedom now jabbed into his exposed back. His lungs lost whatever breath was in them and now he felt fear. But, not for himself, no.

"No… The King… He'll… He'll kill him."

The elf scoffed, grabbing the forehead of the hybrid. "Good."

Gripping tightly on the arm that pinned him to the tree, the ex-commander tried desperately to push his attacker off—to no avail. His head was brought forward before being slammed back into the solid wood.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

Jale brought his clouded and unfocused eyes to look up at the elf. Stumbling over the weight of his own tongue, he managed a single word. "Why?"

"The world is better off without you."

The beautifully hypnotic banging he heard was drowned out by the ringing now in his ears. And as he watched the man above him with concern-ridden fear, he saw those stars change.

Soft light filled in behind the elf, giving him an imposing silhouette. Convinced he was losing consciousness, Jale shifted his focus to the strange light. Might as well embrace whatever it was.

A single shape began to form, only it didn't seem to be a shape. Somehow the object looked transparent and opaque, while simultaneously being every color he could comprehend and completely white. The more he focused on it the less sense it made, and a second one appeared beside it.

Sei’naeve hissed softly and tossed the hybrid's head back, discarding him as he backed up a few steps. "Worthless."

Jale lifted a hand slowly, trying to reach the mysterious shapes. Unsure if they were even real or just due to being hit so hard so many times. A faint sound pulsated from them, and with the ringing fading, he could identify as the sound the tree was making.

Thunk, thud. Thump, thump. Thud, thump, thud… The unusual heartbeat was back, and it made him smile a bit.

"Listen…" the ex-commander said, swallowing the blood in his mouth. "It's coming… from them."

He didn't hear anyone reply, and a scary thought darted through his spinning mind. I'm dying.

His attacker looked down at him in disgust, opening his mouth to comment, which tore Jale's thought of death away. But the words never came. Instead, the elf lost his balance and rolled towards the edge. Stopping himself in time, Sei’naeve glared over at the hybrid.

"They're so… beautiful."

The elf propped himself up to come for the ex-commander once again, but as the shapes grew brighter, Jale lose sight of him. Waiting for the attack, all the man could do was slouch again the trunk, staring into what seemed like the sun.

And then he heard it; an exclaim followed by several cries out, accompanied by a drawn—and fading—scream.

Lights and colors darted around his vision, prompting him to lift his arm once again. His fingertips made contact with something, it was moving and seemed alive, but he couldn’t tell who he touched.

“Jal’Elrris, your time isn’t now. Opened to us, first in a long time. You must live, or greed and translation will end us.” That voice rang inside his head once again, only it sounded clearer.

“W—what?”

“Humans lost touch, punished for not understanding. Elves are losing touch, keep traditions sure, understand them no longer.”

Jale tilted his head, watching as these shapes—now believed to be living beings—floated in front of him. Three now appeared before him, each as difficultly identical to describe as the last, while also being unique to each other.

“Asked why Darael was blessed, mother asked us for a son to help the world. Gave her someone capable of helping you.”

“Wait…” The hybrid pushed himself to sit up more. “Why?”

“Warlocks can feel us, Leeviers can find us. The elves have forgotten the maegik connects us. They think they connect us.”

Shaking his head in light disbelief the man just stared up at the beings. “Why haven’t you helped him then?”

“Can’t. We can only bless or revoke blessings. Rain, soil nutrition, animal comfort, maegik… Blessings.”

The light began to dim down, scaring Jale that he was losing his grip on the creatures. “Wait, why me?”

“Your parents knew. Blessings are given to those who deserve it. Darael is not only a warlock given to us. For you too.”

A reassuring warmth graced his head, and as his vision focused and came back to him, the light and colors were gone. Nothing more than a memory.

“Jale?” Vrielich asked, standing over him.

The ex-commander looked up at the woman and smiled. “I saw them.”

“Sure?” she asked, before helping him stand. “It true, all saw it at night. The warlock is in danger.”

Jale’s face fell, and he looked over the land, towards the swamp—only a small smudge in the distance. “Then… I must go, now.”