"Enough about backsides," Eoch stood up abruptly, hands hovering protectively over his posterior. "I swear I'll never turn my back on those green freaks." His words drew scattered laughter across the riverbank.
"Some Sylvan Elves are proficient not only with bows, but also with scimitars, favoring the Arad and Cezar in particular. Intelligence on them is otherwise scarce. However, we've received no reports of them harming humans. Perhaps they possess the same benevolent nature as the Elves of Illuviλofer."
"So to be clear - the half-elf stole this cloak from that forest, and it belonged to one of the Sylvan Elves. I assume that's all the information that beggar could provide?"
"Just so, my lord. His pretty mouth yielded nothing more." Devalosfang rose, brushing dirt from his clothes. "If the cloaks these Black Riders wear are indeed like the one I encountered years ago, it's not difficult to imagine what dealings Cynthia might have with our charming Sylvan Elves."
"That reminds me, my lord," Tyler turned to Devalosfang. "Since you mention confiscating such a cloak - where is it now?"
"Yes, you haven't told us about that," Eoch added. "Don't tell me you used that cursed thing as a new picnic blanket."
Devalosfang sighed heavily. "It seems that particular dream will remain unfulfilled. We lost the cloak."
Silence fell as they waited for him to continue.
"To be cautious, we didn't carry the mysterious cloak while questioning witnesses. Instead, we secured it in the tower under constant guard. But when we returned to the castle, we found the sentry - who should have been standing vigilant - fast asleep, embracing his spear like a lover. His face was a mess of drool and snot. The cloak, naturally, had vanished."
"Hah, the idiot was likely drugged," Eoch scoffed, retrieving his discarded gryphon helmet.
Carl folded his arms thoughtfully. "I suspect magic - or perhaps witchcraft."
The speculation died instantly. Devalosfang eyed Carl suspiciously. "Honestly, I'm starting to think you're a sorcerer yourself, Carl. You're right again." He adjusted his once-white cloak, now battle-stained and grimy. "Waking that guard proved challenging - we finally roused him in a fountain. Through his fractured memories, we learned of a woman in snow-white appearing the night before our return. We questioned every guard, especially those at the main gate and drawbridge - none had seen her. The room housing the cloak sat atop the main keep, behind twenty-foot walls. She must have flown - how else could she have appeared so high?"
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
"A portal, perhaps?"
Three heads turned to Carl.
"Oh... just a thought," Carl quickly looked away, withering under their scrutiny. "I've only heard that some magic-users can create portals."
"Quite knowledgeable for a youngster. Either you've bedded many witches, or there's a magic academy diploma hidden under your mattress," Eoch's words dripped with sarcasm.
"It was indeed a portal - one of the 'doorless gates,'" Devalosfang continued. "We found traces before the tower room. The Villian Magic Academy's headmaster examined them personally. Asked about tracking the runes, he merely shook his head. 'My lord, with respect, magical tracking isn't like having a hound sniff your posterior to determine where you relieved yourself. It demands time, effort, and immense magical power - and a tracker of considerable skill.' He sighed deeply. 'Though if you commanded it, I could trace any mage or sorceress within Godma's borders - not beyond. I could determine where they began their journey, if not their identity. But this... this exceeds my abilities. I suspect we're dealing with something beyond human.'" His words carried the weight of certainty.
"Elves!" Eoch and Tyler exclaimed together, as Carl whispered, "Sylvan Elves."
The captain nodded. "One or the other, certainly. After the headmaster's departure, we questioned our spear-hugging guard further. She appeared from thin air, he said. 'Miss, who are you? Why are you here?' He'd raised his spear, but her beauty stripped away all resistance. 'Me? You speak to me, good guard?' She glided closer. 'I am but a white swan, seeking my black feathers.' Rising to her toes, she encircled his neck. 'You're a good man, who kept my precious garment safe when I couldn't fly. You deserve reward.' Her pale fingers danced across his stubble. 'Name your wish.'"
"'I wish... a kiss... my lady...' He trembled, thoroughly enchanted. 'Unless... unless you're unwilling? Forgive my presumption!' He began to kneel, but she caught his chin. 'Silly man. Of course I'm willing.' She raised his face to hers. 'You've earned this kiss, my gallant knight. Remember this feeling always. Now, goodnight.' Then she kissed him."
"Well? And?" They leaned forward eagerly.
"What else could happen?" The captain laughed mirthlessly. "He spent the night embracing his spear."
Eoch snorted. "So nothing remains but the kiss?"
"The kiss, the white dress, her teasing words, and two pointed ears," Devalosfang gestured above his head.
"That tells us enough," Carl murmured, watching firelight dance on the water before gazing into the darkness across the river. "If Celas's moonlight shone brighter tonight, we might see those same ears among our Black Riders."