As twilight slowly started to fall-Faelan could see what he was looking for, looming in the distance.

A giant wall—stretching east and west for as far as he could see. It would take him weeks to trek around it.

As he approached, he could see the shine of metal in the quickly fading light of the setting sun.

Slowly approaching the gate, he looked up—the giant stone structure looming over him.

Four armoured Elves stood by the gate, spears in hand, swords hanging from their belts.

"Who approaches?" one of them barked in the Common Tongue, levelling his spear.

Faelan raised his hands.

"Just a weary traveller seeking passage, noble elf," he answered.

He could see the guard squint his eyes under his helmet.

"Dismount, disarm, and approach."

Following the instructions, he got off his horse, his hood still up, and approached the guards.

When he got closer, however, the four lowered their spears, pointing at his chest.

"I told you to disarm. No step further."

Faelan held still but made no move to remove his weapons.

The guard groaned. "Fine. Kendel and Tylin, search his bags. Nym, keep an eye on him."

Then he walked up to Faelan and poked him in the chest with his finger. "You think you're real something, don't you? Disarm now, and I'll let you off with a warning."

Faelan eyed down at the finger resting on his chest, then looked down to look the elf in the eyes.

"I come seeking passage," he repeated. "Why would I have to disarm? Search my bags all you want, but I keep my blades on me."

The elve's shoulders tensed, and his hand went to his sword, but the other guard, Nym, placed a hand on his wrist. "Let it go, Kestar. All he is carrying is a sword and two daggers." She said, giving her colleague a pointed look.

Faelan held back a snort.

If only they knew, he thought, picturing the belt of throwing knives hidden under his cloak and the knives in his boots.

Kestar opened his mouth to say something, but another stern look from Nym shut him up.

Throwing up his hand, he looked at Nym. "Fine, you deal with this then. But when the Kapitan returns, we'll have words about this." With that, he stalked off towards the guardhouse.

Nym shook her head, taking off her helmet.

"Sorry about him. Our Kapitan has a meeting in town, and whenever that happens, Kestar gets all high and mighty, even though we're all equally ranked. The name is Nym Arwen, by the way."

She stabbed the butt of her spear into the ground and held out her hand, though Faelan noticed she was making sure she could drop her helm and reach for her sword easily.

He smiled, lowered his hood, and took the hand. "Faelan Orion, of the House Orion. It's a pleasure meeting you, Nym Arwen."

Nym's eyes flew to his pointed ears, then his horns and her shoulders tensed. He could see her mind jumping to a conclusion, but she held back a remark. Instead, she placed her helmet on her spear and looked over to her colleagues, who emptied Faelan's saddlebags.

"You say you come seeking passage. Explain," she said, looking back at Faelan.

Faelan eyed her cautiously. "I'm on my way to Terr'Grenn, and passing through Terr'Alveran is the fastest and safest route. As you can see, I only have limited rations, so going around is not really an option for me."

He made sure to use the elven names for the countries.

Nym raised an eyebrow. "Terr'Grenn? You might as well turn back around now. Even if we allow you passage through our lands, you'd have to cross the mountains on foot since the Dwarves have closed themselves off from the outside world. What is your business in Grenn anyways?"

"I'm a scholar. I hope to study their lifestyle and learn their ways. I'd also try to get into the Great Palace in order to study their court. As for passing through the mountains, I figured I'd cross that bridge once I got there."

The eyebrow lifted a little more.

"You don't look like a scholar to me. Care to explain the weaponry?"

The elve's voice was filled with doubt.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Faelan put on his most charming smile. "The road is a dangerous place. It is only natural I carry a sword to protect myself. I might not be remarkably skilled with it, but any protection is better than none."

"What about your travel through Terr"Aleveran? Any plans to study here?"

He shrugged. "My field of study is fairly limited to human society, but if anything interesting arises, I'd be likely to note it down, yes, but nothing in particular."

"Are you aware of what my kind thinks of yours?"

The elven woman seemed to shift uncomfortably while asking this question.

Faelan sighed. He had expected the question. He was well aware of the general disdain that all species seemed to have for anything Fae. He was tempted to make a snarky comment, but instead, he decided to keep the situation as calm as possible.

"I am. Though I hope that won't influence whether I'm allowed to pass."

He pointedly looked at the elf, causing her to shift even more.

She cleared her throat as she readjusted her armour.

"Of course not. I was only trying to say that you might receive hostile treatment while travelling through our land. Perhaps we should wait for our kapitan to return. You can shelter against the cold in our guard house if you'd like."

She seemed eager to change the subject.

While saying this, she collected her helmet and spear, awaiting a response.

"I'd be glad." He replied.

===================

While waiting inside, one of the guards who had searched Faelan's saddle bags approached him, holding a box. It was the herbs set he used for making his poisons and toxins.

Shit! Faelan thought. He had completely forgotten about some of his more... unusual equipment.

"Care to explain what this is?"

Faelan looked at the guard. Feigning a confused look, he replied, "My herbalist set? Why?"

"Most of these herbs are either deadly or incredibly dangerous. Why would you carry such a thing on you?"

Hearing this, Nym also piped in. "I thought your field of study was human society. Why would you carry an herbalist set in the first place?"

Faelan's mind raced, rapidly crafting a cover story, but he was interrupted by the door slamming open.

The four elven guards flew into position, including Kestar, who had been sulking near the fireplace—the guard holding the herbalist set almost dropped it but caught it after some fumbling.

"Good evening, Kapitan, sir!" The four chorused.

In the doorframe stood a rugged, short figure. A thick, grey beard reached down to his chest, and his salt and pepper hair was neatly combed back.

This man is trouble, Faelan realised as the Kapitan's hazel eyes scanned the room and landed on him. The elf's features hardened as he noticed Falean's horns.

"At ease, soldiers." A deep, commanding voice rumbled from the elf's throat.

"You," He pointed at Kestar, "Please explain why I have this filth sitting here in my guardhouse."

Faelan's muscles tensed as he prepared for a fight.

Kestar cleared his throat. "This man seeks passage through our lands. Despite my objections, Private Arwen decided he could take shelter here until you returned."

He cast a withering look towards Nym.

The elder elf looked at her. "Is that so? And why did you make this decision, Private Arwen?"

"It seemed like the right thing to do, sir. The man claims to be a scholar and of a noble house. He seeks to study the court of Terr'Grenn, sir." Nym's voice had a slight quiver to it, Faelan noted.

This man commands with an iron fist, he realised.

Taking a step forward, Faelan made a bow, swiping back his cloak, but ensured his weapons stayed hidden. Putting on his most charming smile, he extended his hand. "Faelan Orion, sir. A pleasure to meet you."

The Kapitan looked at his hand as if he saw water burn.

"Save the silver tongue for someone who cares, filth-blood. Nothing good ever comes from Fae... State your reason for passage, list of belongings, and proof of identity."

Faelan pulled back his hand but held straight eye contact with the Kapitan. Maintaining the smile, he repeated what he had told Nym. He also included that the herbalist kit had been a gift from a fellow scholar and that he only carried it with him out of politeness, not fully knowing what the herbs were for.

"All I know is that most of them can be used together for medicine. I assume she gifted it to me, hoping I would pick up the subject."

Nym and the other two seemed to buy the explanation, while Kestar and Kapitan Alares—Faelan picked up—looked at him sceptically but stayed quiet for most of Faelan's explanation.

After he was done, Alares spoke up. "T'is a mighty fine story and all... But in my centuries, I've learned never to trust a Fae-born."

"Look through my notes. You'll see that the information I've gathered about Grenn so far is outdated and in need of replacement. There is enough there to back my claims."

This time, one of the elves that had searched his bags–Kendel, if Faelan remembered correctly–spoke up. "We also found books about all kinds of topics. Everything we've found backs up his story."

Alares grunted. "How about scholars' equipment? Bundles of parchment, ink, quills, and stuff like that. Found any of that?"

Before the guards could answer, Faelan spoke up. "I was hoping to buy that once I arrived in Civ'Argenti. Parchment doesn't survive long travels very well, and ink spoils easily."

I only carry a small bundle to make notes about my travels."

Another grunt escaped the old elf's throat as he nodded slowly.

"Well... can't argue with that. So, let's talk business. I'm too tired to be dealing with this kind of nonsense right now. You'll be allowed to cross, but you'll be under constant surveillance. Private Arwen?"

"Yes, sir?!"

"You'll escort this man to the other border. If he shows any signs of trouble, kill him. You'll leave tomorrow."

Nym looked flabbergasted. "But sir–it's an entire week of travel. I'd be gone for at least two weeks. I–"

Kapitan Alares held up his hand, shutting her up. "I will not be defied. Our unit will be released from post in three weeks—so you won't be missed. I'll find a replacement. You're dismissed. And you..." He looked at Faelan. "You can sleep outside. I will not have a filth-blood sleeping in the same building as me."

Faelan smiled again, though it didn't reach his eyes. "That's fine with me. I prefer the outside anyways."

Getting up, he picked up his herbs set, made a bow, and closed the door behind him.

Once outside, he took his bedroll, rolled it out, and prepared his usual protection weaves.

Reaching out to the strand of Teyun around him, he slowly wove them together into simple patterns. A pleasant warmth spread around him as he released a simplified version of the flame Weave. A headache formed, but he pushed through.

Releasing his second Weave, the world around him blurred as the Concealment Weave expanded around him and his horse.

Nausea washed over him as he crumbled to the ground, exhausted.

He almost lost his dinner, but he managed to keep a hold of himself.

"Curse me and my body," Faelan cussed under his breath.

Crawling into his bedroll, he quickly fell into a dreamless sleep.