The captain stood at the gangplank as he gave each crew their half-trip pay - letting them rest at shore before unloading cargo in the morning. As the last crew mate left the boat and went out of sight: Erick came down to escort Eliahope and the families up to their first time above deck in almost a month. First was Eliahope - as he let her lean on him so that she could stumble up and off the ship. He brought her to the captain, who with a somber look on his face, shook her hand.
"Miss Eliahope. I apologize for the trouble you experienced. But I'm glad you made it here alive." The captain helped her lean against a pole while the cabin boy went below deck to help the other families. "Where will you be heading?"
"T-to the temple, temple of... of Ulene." She smiled weakly at him.
The captains brow furrowed slightly into a worrisome expression. "There's no temple to Ulene in this city. You're more likely to have a temple to Xathar. Nearest temple to Ulene is probably in Luesall or Yregas, the capital."
The other family quickly nodded appreciatively to the captain as the offboarded, passing the half-elf who found herself using more energy to think then she had. Ulene was the goddess her mother worshipped - the Tertiary Deity of Sun and Agriculture. In Myenlun, most small cities would have at least a small church to her as she was popular amongst the farming class - though in retrospect she was now in the port city Ablos, where fishing and mercantilism reigned as better options for the common folk (making Xathar, the Tributary Deity of the sea, a more practical choice).
"Ulene... Ulene is friendly with Xathar. The sun loves the sea. I'll see my way to one of his temples in the meantime." she quickly muttered, seemingly using the last of her strength reserves to nod to the captain, and slowly, *carefully*, departing the ship - the captain pointing her in the direction to the nearest temple.
The city of Ablos felt foreign in the best of ways to Eliahope. The only swaying was due to her own unsteady feet as she stumbled to follow the captains directions. Even in her half-conscious state, she could sense the thrum of the city. Even in the late evening, the markets were alive, crew were barking orders to get merchandise off the ships - lanterns lit the streets, both making the streets seem inviting, and the alleys a place of intrigue and fear.
She followed the steeple that she could see in the sky - curved and with a mermaid carved into it like the hull of a ship. As she came in and out of consciousness, she eventually found herself at the heavy temple doors - seemingly made of recycled ship. She knocked with what little strength she had before a cleric quickly came to the door. A little human woman, stout and in the blessed garb of Xathar - she gasped as she opened the door, maybe believing she say a corpse on the church steps.
"M-may I help you ma'am...?" The cleric stuttered, holding her personal candle close to her chest.
Eliahope sighed, smiling weakly. "I-I seek sanctuary. I came to Ablos by... by ship from Myenlun, and.. I got sick at sea."
The cleric's eyes widened as she quickly set her candle aside, grabbing a side of Eliahope. "Don't you worry dear. The sea can be unforgiving, but we specialize in the cures for sea illness." The cleric led her up the stairs and into a room with many beds like a hostel - as Eliahope's head hit the bed, her eyes grew dreary and heavy. "Now you rest. I'll get you all healed up. I promise, dear." The nun's voice muffled out as the half-elf truly, and potentially for the first time in a month, fell into a deep sleep.
---
Eliahope's eyes opened once again with bright sunlight blinding her. It must have been around noon as the sun was high in the sky. Her bones ached with a soreness she hadn't experienced every in her life, as she quietly mourned her soft comfortable bed in her mother's home.
She looked over to see a young woman, dressed as a maid, doe eyed, as she almost dropped a bag of rags before running downstairs yelling "She's awake, Ms. Daroughty! She's awake!"
She only had a minute to look around the room, before she heard the cleric's footsteps fall hard upon the hard wood floor leading up to what she could now gather was a form of infirmary. "Dearest! Welcome to the land of the living!" The cleric and the maid quickly started attending to the young half elf with a barrage of questions and inspections. *How's your head? Does it hurt when you lift your arm? No sores on her hands or feet ma'am. How is your pain on a level of 1-10? Can you hold your breath for a minute? Average heartbeat ma'am.*
Once their line of questioning was satisfied, the cleric sat at the foot of the bed, and motioned for the maid to move on to another section of the temple that needed attendance.
"Well, I'll be honest dearest. We didn't think you'd make it. In and out of consciousness for a week, ne'er saying an intelligible word," She started to ramble, "Elisa and I hadn't the faintest what truly was ailing you. Once we leveled out zytanitus, bellow's foot, and mad maiden syndrome, well we were dumb founded. We prayed it was simply sea illness. Nasty business, though ultimately harmless, but frankly we didn't know anything of you - making it hard to know what could be going on." The cleric's (now having the name in Eliahope's head as Ms. Daroughty) eyes softened briefly as she gave an awkward chuckle, "Forgive me dearest, but I haven't the slightest your name. We've simply called you dearest during your stay."
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"Eliahope," the half elf croaked out, her throat sore and parched, "N-no surname. Just Eliahope."
The cleric gave a small smile "Eliahope... A lovely name, for sure. Uncommon for elven kind though - you're mother must have been a unique lady!"
Eliahope knew this was a kind sentiment, but a deep pang in her heart occurred in this moment. A common battle in this world was the extreme rarity of "half-breeds", including half-elves. "Full" elves, a term that was not used outside of conversation specifically discussing half-elves, due to being practically immortal had extremely low birth rates, and even when the rare elf was born, they usually would be born to two elves (as elves rarely left their own kind). "Y-yes," Eliahope stuttered. "Yes she was."
Ms. Daroughty, seeing the change in mood, clapped her hands, "Well! No time for dilly dallying." She stood up, making her way for the door, "All your belongings are under the bed, give a call if you need us. Myself and Ms. Elisa will be in the temple for morning devotionals." She gracefully went and closed the door - to Eliahope, feeling she was as quickly as gone as she had arrived, hearing her feet once again against the ground.
She was now alone again with her thoughts, as she pulled out some measly coin meant to fund her first's night stay in Ablos. Packing up her sack and changing into a fresh change of clothes (kindly left by the cleric at the foot of the bed), Eliahope, still as sore as she was upon waking up, stumbled her was to the main temple, and dropping her coin into the tithe box. With a quick nod to the cleric, who returned such, she opened the doors, and faced Ablos, the largest Mercantile port of her time.
The first sense to hit her being smell. Fresh baked bread, sizzling pork, and sweet pastry wafted in the air, making the second scent of farm animal only more nauseating. Upon the church steps, well above the street level, she received a view of the surrounding area, which otherwise would be too crowded from the morning crowd. A sea of people, swarming around each other as they shoved their way to their destination - some to their homes, some to their work, and others to the tavern. The voices were dampening of any other sound anyone might hear - almost everyone speaking at a yell's volume.
To Eliahope - Ablos was overwhelming.
In that moment, Eliahope remembered some of the little planning she had done from the journey and pulled out a map before ducking into a seemingly quiet alleyway, though staying in direct sight of the morning crowd. "Come on... Xatharian Temple. " She muttered to herself.
At that moment, she realized where she was: She managed to stumbled her way just outside the mercantile ports and into the downtown region. And with the question of where she was figured out, she unfolded the rest of her map to ask: where next? Faced with the weight of that decision, she instead decided to postpone even thinking of such a stressful decision until after breakfast.
After roughly 10 minutes of pushing (or rather being pushed) though the crowd, Eliahope made it to the Nestled Egg - a small food hall with banquet sized table, with a slogan of "Eat like a King for the price of a Peasant" (which frankly was all she could afford).
Sitting at a table with a tankard of mead and a plate of breakfast, she found herself reviewing over her calendar, journal, and map. She had lost a week of travel due to her illness, which combined with the extra week of seafare than originally expected, put her a half month behind her desired timeframe. Soon it would be winter - making travel nearly impossibly on her own. She needed two answers before leaving Ablos: Where she was going, and how she was to fund any journey.
Just as she put her head in her hands, desperately attempting to get her slowed brain to come up with solutions, she heard a loud tankard hit the table next to her.
Startled, Eliahope looked up to see a tan woman, covered in armor with bends and cracks. The strange woman gave a beaming smile to her as she slapped the half-elf on the back, "Hello dear friend! Mind if my party sits beside you?"
Nearly coughing up what little she had eaten so far, she looked up to see a small group, 4 humans and a dwarf. Sheepishly, she motioned for the group to sit beside her.
“So, elven! What’s an elf doing in Ablos?” the young woman leaned over, the rest of her party seemingly attempting to pull her away and apologetically smiling at Eliahope.
“W-well. I’m on… Sabbatical. Elvish Sabbatical.” She muttered beneath her breath, turning back to her breakfast.
“Oh! Okay, so you're super old. Like 100?” the tan woman broke away from her friends, leaning closer to the shy elf.
“U-um. Well… Kind of. I’m 86 years of age - th-though who counts r-right?”
“Ah, well, I guess that makes sense. So, what do you do? Why did you choose Ablos? Are you making your way elsewhere? What’s the purpose of your sabbatical?”
The dwarf, a stout woman with large braids almost touching the floor, hit her companions arm, “You hadn’t even given your name and you’re asking the poor lady’s life story.”
“Ah. Well, I’m Sarhi. This charmer,” she pointed to the dwarf, “Is Sterline. And pretending like they don’t know me are Theodar, Alix, and Yasha.” The three sheepishly waved at the mention of their names.
Purpose, Eliahope pondered on the word. She knew some bits and pieces of what she was attempting to do, though the beginning steps were rocky and unclear. She took a deep breath, and turned to the woman. She seemed like she definitely had a purpose for her questions, and was hoping to gain something, though exactly what she couldn’t tell.
“Well… I-it’s a pleasure. I’m… Aria. Aria’s fine.” She returned in a mumble. Better to defend yourself, she thought to herself. People are unpredictable. Their intentions are unclear, but they certainly want something from me. Maybe they’re charlatans… “I’m a writer, you could say. But I’m also decent with a bow. I’m attempting to research some… medical issues the elven community seems to be concerned over.”
An understatement. Her brow furrowed deeper. The “medical issue” was a plague only affecting the elves, one that no current doctor could seem to figure out, after an eternity of thriving. Elves of all ages were dropping in a matter of days after being first diagnosed. Their veins turning purple, their eyes going black. Becoming catatonic 24 hours after their first symptoms appear. It didn’t seem to be contagious in any way, but the elves in the embassy of Myenlun reported having the majority of cases.
“Oh! Okay, that’s kind of cool. So, where you off to?”
Eliahope, looking down at the map on the table reads the first name she sees, “Lllll… Luesall. I’m planning to head to Luesall. Yeah, I h-... have some business to attend to.”
Sarhi gasped, “Oh my goodness! We’re going to Luesall as well, it must be fate!” beaming, she turned to her friends who at the mention of their destination became defeated, knowing they no longer had control over their friend.