"You'll have to excuse most of us, besides elven, many of the younger elves can't speak physical languages," a particularly tall male elf said, "But, know that you are welcomed here and to share our food or housing."

Bowing politely, Roon looked up at the elf. "Thank you! Your hospitality is much appreciated, but if it's alright, I would like to set up a small camp right outside the village."

Jale gave the zerdal a pat. "We can relax though, they have shelters and fires."

"And food," Darael added.

"We weren't starving, or exposed," Roon grumbled.

Tesk whispered to the zerdal, which made the small man sigh and nod in defeat.

Turning back to the tall elf, Jale held his arms forward. "Sei'naeve, I think we should talk. How can I help you?"

Sei'naeve laughed. "Either by dying or changing drastically."

Holy shit, be brutally honest, please. "Erm, elaborate?" The commander rubbed his neck.

"You're stressing our Divines. And being here, so close to our gift... Without fixing yourself, you cannot help us."

Darael cocked his head. "Why is that?"

The tall elf sighed, waving for them to follow. "You see, everyone is connected to our Divines, one person being unhappy or stressed isn't enough to bother them. However, elves are connected directly to the Great Divines," he brought his hands upwards, "which means we feel what they feel, and vice versa. I believe Jale is an exceptionally rare elf called a Seer, who are twice as connected to the Divines."

Jale sighed a soft breath. "Poor things."

"Let me ask you, how do you feel at night?"

The commander looked up at the elf. "What?"

Sei'naeve placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him away from the group. With another elf keeping them from following.

"I'd advise you to be honest. I would know if you're not," the tall elf said, leading him into the grass that surrounded the village. "When you're awaiting sleep, how do you feel?"

Jale sat on the question for a moment, deep down knowing he wouldn't like the answer. "Anxious."

"And when you wake up?"

The commander scratched at his arm. "Worried or tired."

Sei'naeve nodded, listening to him. "Now, why do you feel these?"

Bringing his eyes down, Jale muttered. "I wonder when my identity will be revealed and my life ruined. If my life gets ruined, then my aunt will suffer the consequences."

"So, you're stressed over hiding and fitting in, while convinced you're not doing good enough?" The elf shook his head. "You're lucky a drought is all the marsh has."

Curious, he brought his gaze back up to his companion. "What do you mean?"

The elf stopped moving and pointed towards a puddle on the path. "What do you see?"

Peering in, the commander simply saw his reflection, his eyes drawn to the faded grey hair on his head and never-growing light facial hair. Dull blue eyes searched his own face, which no longer seemed connected to him.

"A shell."

Nodding again, Sei'naeve turned back towards the village. "I can give you everything a Seer like you needs, but it will be up to you to make the connections and find your joy."

I suppose it makes sense. If I'm not happy, why would the Divines be? I'm linked to them and them to me, we're just feeding each other bad emotions. Jale sighed once more and nodded.

"Okay. But, the warlock, Darael, he needs help too."

The elf looked down at him. "Is he not a prisoner? Why would a commander seek help for someone who is on their way to be broken regardless?"

With averted eyes, the commander shrugged. "I just thought, maybe if he could straighten up... Perhaps I could convince the king to let him go?"

His companion hummed in curious thought, and Jale took a few steps towards the village. He doesn't deserve to suffer anymore, but why do I feel this way now?

Sei'naeve followed his steps. "Very well. If he needs and accepts help, we will give him aid too. With what does he need fixing?"

"He's a bit, hmm. Scared, I think, and anxious as well... He's been nothing but a sarcastic ass all trip."

The elf laughed at him. "While I'm not familiar with the term 'ass' for a human, I understand the mood you describe. Common in indecisive or fearful folk."

Jale pushed through the edge of the grass, breaking into the clearing filled with huts and elves. A sense of comfort swelled inside him, but he blocked it off and turned back to the tall elf.

"Do you have a spare place for us?"

"Of course. You have to set it up though."

The commander smiled lightly, amused at the thought of his human friend setting up a large hide tent without maegik. "I'd love to get that situated now if that's alright. Might put Roon at ease."

Sei'naeve stepped in front to lead him towards the empty space. "I don't blame him, she may develop complications. Cross-racial reproduction can cause a lot of trouble."

"Pardon me?"

Even though he knew the elf meant no real offense, the comment hurt Jale. Knowing many people dislike cross-racial relationships and hearing it firsthand fell differently on the hybrid's soul.

His tall companion sucked his teeth gently. "Look, I mean physically. Most races aren't very compatible and bodies tend to reject vastly different people."

"No. I understand."

Sei'naeve waved someone over and bowed his head. "Rest, enjoy safety. Tomorrow you can worry about training to become a proper elf."

The commander gave a subtle face twitch, not interested in responding anymore. Which, luckily, his companion understood and backed away. I already wish I wasn't here, why did I have to come here? The orcs could've helped plenty I'm sure... He sighed and studied the ground. Light grey dirt covered the grasslands, cleared of all plants in the village. Twisting his foot a bit, he watched the soft soil move like sand, though a solid layer ground against the sole of his boot.

"When they said they had a spare house, I didn't expect us to make it ourselves," Darael said from behind, "but, I guess it could be fun."

In the presence of the warlock, the commander straightened up and turned to look at him. "Traditional elven huts... seems easy enough."

Roon approached the supplies to inspect the material. "Great Seradra, what manner of beast did this come from?" He asked, holding up a hide twice the size of his own body.

Jale twisted his head to see the skin. "Hmm, light yellow and a large flank and rump... Horse or elk. A very small horse or elk."

The warlock widened his eyes. "That's a small one?"

"Juvenile most likely, yeah." The tall man chuckled before walking over to help the zerdal. "You're the expert, tell us what to do."

"Expert in Zerdalian travel huts..." Tesk mused, bringing herself over to help.

Between the four of them, they managed to set up the rather large tent. Solid blue logs built a sturdy frame, while the yellow hides stretched over it to provide shelter. Walking inside, Jale tested each support before lining the dirt with soft furs.

When they were all done with building, midday had already come and gone. With Roon and Tesk going off to help gather water, the two humans were left to help the elves prepare for a hunt. Wrapping a bundle of leathers together tightly, Jale could feel stares from the people around him. Unsure if this was good or bad, he ended up sticking closer to Darael than usual. At least a warlock could prove a good fighter if needed.

As night approached, the commander could feel the anxiety over the next day creeping in. Trying to push it away, he settled into the fur mat to relax.

"Hey, Jale?" the warlock asked meekly.

Looking up, Jale noticed the ginger was sitting a few feet away on the soil. "Yeah?"

His friend averted his gaze towards the entrance of the hut. "Do you have to take me to the King?"

Fucking hells, what kind of a question is that at dusk? Sighing, the commander laid his arms across his chest. "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"No," Jale said, scratching at his chest, "I hope the elves can help you so that I don't have to. Better these elves than his, right?"

Giving a light shrug, the warlock glanced back over. "And if they can't?"

You don't want me to answer that... I still have a job I have to keep. Another sigh left his lips and he shook his head.

"Could I ask for a merciful end instead?"

Jale shot his eyes back to the ginger, sitting up a bit at the question. "I'm not going to kill you. You'll get better. Elves are the best at, erm, changing a human's mindset."

His companion flinched lightly. "Couldn't stop the King, could they."

The tall man relaxed his body a bit to remove as much of the tension as he could. "That's because he killed the elves who tried. Just don't kill the elves."

"I don't think I can promise that." Darael dropped his eyes and crawled over to a nearby bedroll.

"It wasn't a suggestion."

Crowing of a scornful bird brought Jale to his senses the next morning, a scratchy song that you'd have to be insane or deaf to ignore. Groans of displeasure came from the warlock, but the commander brought himself to get up. Tesk hissed something, rolling over to sleepily console in her partner, who whined at the sound.

I'm sure they'll bring themselves up sooner or later, but I'm up now so might as well go see what I can help with. Jale secured his wrist guards and took his bow, quiver, and daggers.

Stepping outside, he found an already busy village. Taken aback at how many of the elves were already moving around to get things done. Even in Bogsgate when he worked with other early workers, he's never seen so many people up with the sun.

"Jale! Good good, I was worried you would miss your first day of training," Sei'naeve called him over, smiling at him.

"I wouldn't dream of it. What do I need to do?"

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The elf chuckled and pointed to the commander's hair. "You've ruined your mane, we should fix it."

Jale subconsciously ran a hand through his hair. "What's wrong with it?"

"You've polluted your beautiful color with human stains, and however did you get it to grow so long? And stay down?"

"A lot of hard, needed work," the commander said, knowing already he was not getting out of changing his hair.

Sei'naeve laughed. "Come then, I'll get Eriss'Sai and we can start fixing it."

Jale had no choice but to follow the tall elf, for once in his life feeling out of place. Even among the orcs and zerdals he had felt welcomed and wanted. These elves made him realize just how unwanted he was. Should just be glad they didn't kill my mutant ass on the spot I guess, but do I have to change everything I used to fit in to help? How is my hair color or length going to help make me happy?

His guide led him to a female elf who had been cleaning a bow before joining them.

The woman stood up and gave Jale a long look over. "Look odd. Why the grey?"

"It was black, I had to do it to survive." The commander explained, following the pair out of the village.

"We've never had an elf so focused on looking human, what ever compelled you to do so?" Sei'naeve asked.

Soft crunches under his feet became Jale's focus, wondering if he should bother to even tell them again. After a few moments, he shrugged.

"An elf living in Bogsgate, raised by a human? My aunt would've been killed like my parents. I'm just lucky my dad gave me enough genetics to blend in."

Eriss'Sai hummed thoughtfully. "Might not have a mane."

The commander huffed. "I wish. I very much do, it took ages to train my hair to lie flat instead of stand."

"Tsk tsk, we need to fix that," the taller elf said, gesturing towards a small pond, "luckily we have such creams to remove such potent pollution."

Jale glanced down at his shirt, sighing at the realization that he didn't want to dry it out for hours. He removed the article of clothing and stepped into the warm water.

"Naturally warm water?" he questioned out loud.

The tall elf laughed. "Yes, the sun warms it."

Eriss'Sai waded in after him, giving a bowl of green goop. "Let help? Be faster."

Nodding, the commander took the container in one hand. Using the other to begin the tedious process of coating each strand in the goop.

With the woman's help, it went by faster, but it still took a good while to get all of his thick hair. Then he had to wait.

"Toxic stains, thankfully you haven't used any in a while, makes it way easier to remove," Sei'naeve said, giving him a nod.

Jale took the nod and brought air into his lungs to submerge himself. Underwater, he could see the greenish-grey mixture swirl into the clear water around him. Watching the swirls a moment, he found himself thinking back to the moment in the river all those months ago.

Shaking his head, he worked on scrubbing his hair until he couldn't stand holding his breath any longer. Emerging with a gasp, the commander wiped water from his face.

"Did I get it all?"

A soft hum, before Eriss'Sai spoke. "Almost."

With an internal groan, Jale leaned back to submerge just his hair. Running fingers and hands all around through his locks, he looked up at the sky. The sun had barely finished displaying an orange and red greeting, and here he was. Nearly drowning already.

This time, when he got up the taller elf nodded again. "Better, now it just needs relief and freedom. Did you get the shears?"

The woman held up the tool in question, a pair of sharp iron blades secured together.

I don't want to cut it... No, it would take ages to grow back out. I wouldn't be able to blend in anymore. His worried thoughts plagued him as he made his way to Eriss.

As the soft clicks and snips sounded around his ears, he could feel the wet clumps falling past his bare torso. Though concerned and extremely scared at the consequences, it slowly began to excite him. Now Jale couldn't wait to see what he'd look like in his natural state.

After the trim, he could feel his hair reaching upwards, no longer limp against his skull. Satisfying almost.

"Two more things and you'll look just like a field elf," Sei'naeve said, handing the woman one of the Orcish daggers.

Eriss'Sai agreed and took the weapon. Holding it up, she scraped it carefully along Jale's jaw, even up his cheeks some.

"Darael could benefit from this too," Jale commented, even if it seemed irrelevant, it was what he thought honestly.

His companions laughed, though the taller elf sounded stiff, almost disapproving.

It's because he's a human warlock I bet, superior pricks. Jale conferred in his thoughts, letting the elf clean him up.

When she stepped back, he crept over and knelt next to the pond. Though hesitant, he leaned over and gazed into the pool.

A beautiful elf stared back. Wild white and tan hair stood messily atop his smooth, sleek face. Even just those two changes made him look drastically different, almost as if they brightened his whole face up. Strong, bold, blue eyes gazed up at him, telling him it would be fine.

Smiling down at his reflection, Jale sat back on his heels. "I like it... Now what?"

Sei'naeve shook his head. "You move too fast, slow down a little! But, if you're eager. A weapon and some practice, all Seers must see the tree at least once in their life."

"The Bleeding Tree?" The commander gasped, standing up.

"What other tree would I mean?"

Jale shook his head. "I don't know... But if you want me to do these things, I'll do them. I've never been near such a... Active place before."

Eriss'Sai handed the commander his dagger back. "Must look the part."

The taller elf nodded. "Yes, all elven visitors must follow the traditions, which includes offering a meal."

"Elk are Divines' favorite!" The woman exclaimed.

Nodding, Jale put the blade back in its sheath. "Okay, I can do that."

"Come then, let's get you some real armor." Sei'naeve waved them on, walking back.

Following, the commander glanced over at Eriss'Sai, who smiled back at him. It was warm and relaxed, but it unnerved him.

I thought elves disliked cross-racial relationships, why does she seem attracted to me? She could just be nice, perhaps I'm jumping to conclusions...

Back in the village, he found his friends gathered around a small fire to enjoy breakfast. Beaming slightly. He excused himself to go eat—and show off his changes.

"Eating without me already? Damn, can't do anything by myself," Jale complained, though light and playful.

Darael looked up and proceeded to gasp, choke, and stand up in the span of seconds. Rubbing his throat a bit while looking the commander over with a curious expression.

Roon laughed at the warlock's surprise, tilting his head back to look up at the commander. "How do you feel with this new look?"

"Hasn't quite hit me yet if I'm being honest. My hair has already started to bother me—the way it stands up." Jale sighed lightly. "It'll hit me sooner or later what I've done though."

Tsk, Tesk clicked her tusks. "Shame. You're embracing your ancestors, it should not worry you."

"You've been unusually quiet, Darael. What's going on in that mind of yours?" the tall man asked, resting his hands on his hips.

Cocking his head to the side, the warlock huffed a soft note. "See, that hair suits you."

Well, that's positive, I suppose that's something. "No, snarky comments or sarcasm today?"

His friend curled a light smile. "I mean, if you want that, Commander. But, honestly... No, I like it, that's all."

As the two humans fell into silence, peacefully watching each other, the zerdal nudged Jale and offered a plate of food.

"Ah, thanks," the commander uttered, sitting in between Roon and Darael.

However, the warlock didn't sit back down or resume his meal. Instead, he quietly excused himself and walked down the water path.

Great, I must scare him like this, I don't blame him either. Elves should be feared and now I am one. Unfortunate thoughts crawled his mind and forced him to slink down in his seat a bit. Which caught the attention of the ever-attentive zerdal.

"What's wrong now? It's not coming to you negatively now is it?"

Jale shook his head. "No, I'm just... I'm hoping I'm not scaring Darael or anything."

Tesk leaned forward. "And why would you scare him now if he hasn't shown any fear of you before?"

"Well, humans are trained to fear elves, and now with me becoming one more and more. I don't know, I'm worried I'm pushing him away by doing this," the commander said, realizing just how much he likes the human's company now.

Roon gave him a pat on the back. "Being part elf has obviously not done you any favors when it comes to judgment." He dropped his ears in amusement. "To be fair, elves aren't very wise to it either."

"To what?" Jale questioned.

The troll stood up, placing the empty plate on the stack. "To genuine feelings. And a little bit of emotion too."

The commander huffed a scoff, but couldn't think of verbal retaliation.

"Don't worry about it, focus on your training. Once we leave, you can focus on Darael." Roon chuckled, standing to follow his partner.

Focus on Darael, why would I want to? Stupid, pale-faced long-haired, wild, beast. Another scoff left his mouth. I just don't want him to suffer anymore if I don't have to. Why should he? Where did he even go?

Jale scowled at his thoughts and ate his elk steak alone. Settling on the idea to take Roon's advice and just focus on his training.

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

"You can use a bow, but you're not feeling the bow. Connect to the weapon, let it be but an extension of your mind," Sei'naeve called from behind.

The commander hissed under his breath, taking an arrow from his quiver. Blackened feathers grazed his fingers as he notched the arrow. Feel the bow, how in the hells do you feel a piece of wood if it's not hitting you?

"And silence those vile thoughts."

Jale curled his lip and pulled the string back, aligning his arms to aim the blue weapon. Looking down the shaft, he took a deep breath. Keep snarling commands and you'll feel the bow. Even though he could practically see the elf recoil behind him, he remained focused on the target.

A small wooden plank swayed gently in the breeze, hung from a tree with dark rope. Large bright yellow rings painted on the wood invited an arrow to hit it, which he planned to let happen.

Relaxing the grip, his arrow sailed through the air with a faint whistle. Unfortunately, the commander heard a soft clatter as the projectile missed and hit something else.

His elf trainer walked up to him. "Give me this."

Jale handed him the bow and an arrow. "I'm used to blades. I can use a bow but not against such small moving targets."

"Excuses." Sei'naeve loaded the bowstring and gave it tension. "You must feel the vibrations, the tension, and demands of your weapon." When he let the arrow fly, it hit the small dot in the center of the plank. "Try again."

The commander only sneered lightly at the elf. Hours of the same thing, he felt like a moron out there, and with a few of the women watching, shame joined that.

Notching another arrow, he hesitated. Maybe I'm not elf enough to feel what he's talking about. Then what? Wasted a whole day when I could have been doing something useful like Darael and Roon. A few seconds later a hand smacked the back of his head.

"You are not focusing."

An irritated hiss slid through Jale's teeth, and he pulled the bowstring taut"I am."

The elf crossed his arms. "Then hitting that target should be easy. Pretend it's the warlock."

Fucking, hells combined... At the comment, Jale let go of the string, letting the arrow go. Of course, it didn't come close to hitting anything, but that wasn't even registered in his brain.

"You sure think of him often. I assumed you hated or feared him."

"Shut up, and... let me focus." The commander huffed, taking another arrow.

Sei'naeve held his hands out and took a step back.

That's stupid, why would I pretend this plank is my friend. I don't want to shoot my friend. With a slow deep inhale, he lifted his bow while pulling the arrow back. A blue and yellow plank waved even more than before after being hit, taunting the commander with an evil spin.

Narrowing his eyes, Jale lined the weapon up to target the vile plank. Feel the bow, what does that even mean? Tension? What tension, that's in the string, not the wood... His eyes drifted from his target to the bow itself. In his hand holding the arrow ready, he could feel soft vibrations, while the other hand felt sturdy and solid wood. Watching the wood, he slowly relaxed the string, then brought the arrow back out again.

Sure enough, the handle quivered just faintly at the strain. Huh, I guess it does vibrate. When Jale finally had the bow ready again, his blue gaze rested on the intimidating rings. Focus on what though? The movements? The circle or the wood itself? Or something else entirely? Usually, a commander should explain what you're doing, not give vague orders.

"Don't even say anything. I'm processing this." The commander snapped at Sei'naeve.

The elf hummed gently. "Fine."

Focusing, focusing... Soft wind song sang through the dancing grass, which, now that he had been brought up, made Jale think of Darael once more. I do hope he's having a better time than me. Hopefully, they don't cut his hair off, that'd be devastating, it is rather pretty.

An inhuman hiss stabbed the air. "You're worse than a child chewing canes. How dare you think such things. Focus or I'm going to send you back to the human kingdom where you belong!" Sei'naeve growled.

"Yes, Commander." The sarcastic laced words dripped off the commander's tongue even more poisonous than Darael has ever said it.

Should have warned me elves are a bitter dad. Jale yanked his bowstring back even further, the wood creaking faint protests as it stretched beyond limits. While his pectoral muscles clawed his brain for relief, he trained his harsh glare onto the taunting target. Thinking back to his comment on the red hair being pretty, he glanced at the grass.

Soothing fans of golden encouragement, the blades leaned towards the south. So, the commander twitched his aim north a touch, feeling the arrow scrape across the groove as it waited to fly.

With a slow exhale, he gave the projectile what it wanted. As it released from his grip, the white-tipped arrow soared through the air eagerly towards the plank.

Thunk. Solid impact accompanied with a violently spinning, jolting target told Jale what he'd been waiting to hear. He did it.

"Did you feel it? Or get lucky?" The elf questioned.

Turning to face the tall elf, the commander shrugged. "You tell me. Did I sound like I figured it out?"

"Sounded like despair. But, yes, I suppose you did."

Jale nodded a curt nod, taking another arrow.

Sei'naeve waved a hand towards the women. "We'll let you practice then. Whenever you're done, follow the trail home."

A few of the ladies followed the tall elf, but two stayed back, which bothered him. But he wouldn't express it.