At the age of 10, Aethyr had already learned valuable skills from different colleges, and now he honed his craft in blacksmithing. Despite his maturity, school life was still a mixture of play, learning, and, at times, the harsh reality of social conflicts.
One afternoon, a loud crash of laughter and a sudden thud interrupted the quiet learning environment. A noble boy, Alaric, shoved a young elf girl into the edge of a table. The sound of her small frame hitting the wood echoed through the hall. Alaric and his friends jeered.
"You deserve to kiss that wood, you wood elf! Do you like being near trees? Maybe this table is your new home," he sneered, slamming her into the table again. His friends laughed even louder, as the elf girl, Elwen, struggled to pick herself up.
It wasn’t an uncommon sight. Bullying of non-humans happened often, with little interference from the teachers. Aethyr stood quietly, watching the scene unfold. His friend, Vaan, beside him, clenched his fists in anger. "We have to stop them!" Vaan whispered fiercely, ready to act.
But before Vaan could move, Aethyr caught his arm. "Vaan, this isn't our problem," Aethyr said, his voice firm but calm. "You won't get far by adding problems to your life."
Vaan shot him a confused look. "Who else will help them? It's not fair!" he protested. "We're supposed to help each other, right?"
Aethyr’s gaze didn’t waver. "You’ve read too many stories about justice and heroics," he replied, almost too calmly. "That only works in books. The real world is different."
Vaan, though frustrated, understood. He helped Elwen up, glaring at Alaric and his group, who only shrugged and left. Yet, as Alaric walked away, Aethyr's mind was already at work, quietly observing and calculating.
Aethyr didn’t believe in grand heroic gestures. They made a show but rarely solved the deeper issues. He understood that violence would only breed more conflict. What he needed was time. Time to study, time to understand the weaknesses in Alaric’s group, and time to craft a solution that would change things without anyone noticing his hand in it.
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Alaric’s bullying wasn’t limited to elves. Dwarves and scaleskin alike had fallen victim to his rough treatment and cruel words. Aethyr continued to observe, never getting too close to anyone, but friendly enough to be accepted by all. His subtle detachment allowed him to see the bigger picture—how Alaric relied on fear, and how the others, despite their strengths, remained isolated and vulnerable.
One day, an announcement came that stirred the city: the signing of a great treaty at Fjallgard, ending years of conflict. Along with this celebration, the Jarls would be entertained by the finest young scholars, whose academic work would be presented in a grand exhibition. Alaric, like many noble children, was eager to present something grand. But he struggled with the ancient script he had chosen—a tale of love between an elf and a human hero. No matter how hard he tried, the text remained a mystery to him.
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Aethyr had noticed Alaric’s struggle for days, watching the noble boy grow increasingly frustrated. And so, with a quiet smile, he made his move.
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The next day, Aethyr casually approached Alaric during break. "Still struggling with that script?" Aethyr asked, his tone light, but his eyes calculating. "I got lucky—mine’s pretty easy."
Alaric shot him an annoyed look, but there was a glimmer of desperation in his eyes. "Yeah? Well, good for you, Oldmane," he muttered, using Aethyr’s family name as a taunt. Aethyr just smiled, letting the insult roll off his back.
"You know," Aethyr said thoughtfully, "Elwen can read almost any ancient language. She’s got a talent for it. But... she's not too fond of nobles lately." He grinned slightly, knowing the seed had been planted.
Alaric scoffed. "Like I'd ask her for help. Lowly long-ears..." But Aethyr could see the uncertainty flickering across Alaric’s face. "Besides, even if I wanted to, she wouldn’t help."
"Not if you treat her like you did," Aethyr replied, leaning casually against the wall. "But your father’s business, now that’s another story. Isn't he struggling with some... quality control issues? Herbs not up to standard, or so I heard." Alaric glared at him, suspicious. "Her father works in that field," Aethyr added smoothly. "He could help your father out. You scratch his back, he scratches yours."
Alaric stood silent for a moment, trying to process the manipulation hidden behind Aethyr’s words. But he wasn’t completely dull. Aethyr had sown the seeds of a solution, and Alaric, though prideful, couldn’t ignore the possibilities.
Later that night, during dinner, Alaric saw his father deep in thought, grumbling about poor-quality herbs from his suppliers. Alaric hesitated for a moment before mentioning Elwen’s father.
His father, skeptical but desperate, decided to give it a try.
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A week later, Elwen and her father arrived at Alaric’s estate. Alaric froze when he saw her. For a moment, the shame of his actions weighed on him, but Elwen's father was a professional and ignored the awkwardness. As the adults discussed business, Alaric approached Elwen. "I... need your help," he said stiffly, barely managing to get the words out.
Elwen hesitated, her eyes narrowing as she considered the boy who had tormented her. But her kind nature won out. She nodded. "I'll help you."
Over the next few days, Alaric and Elwen worked together. Slowly, Alaric’s attitude began to change. He saw the talent in Elwen, her quiet strength, and realized the value of cooperation. By the end of the project, when the script was finally deciphered and presented to the Jarls, he felt a sense of gratitude he had never known before.
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Aethyr, watching from the shadows, smiled knowingly. Alaric’s transformation was subtle, but it was real. And none of it would have happened if Aethyr hadn’t carefully orchestrated the entire situation. He didn’t need recognition or thanks. All that mattered was that, in the end, the bullying had stopped, and a small measure of respect had grown in its place.
Alaric may have never realized the extent of Aethyr’s involvement, but the lesson was learned: true power lies not in force, but in the ability to change hearts and minds through understanding and quiet action.