Feyrith still couldn't tell if his presence in Everward was welcomed or distrusted. He'd offered to help with smaller, quickly solvable problems, but he knew the humans would have appreciated more if he'd stayed, and some had definitely grumbled something about him. But unfortunately, he couldn't stay. He had a mission to complete, and after his experience in the jungle, he now knew fully well that he wouldn't be trying to cross it anytime soon if he could avoid it.
It wasn't the worst thing in the world to be here for longer, of course. He quite enjoyed seeing foreign creatures and landscapes—especially the wild herds of quasir which he'd seen a few times, roaming the fields and grazing—but it would be for the best to verify whether the magical energies in the ruin were dangerous or not as quickly as possible. The Council hadn't given him a time limit, but they hadn't needed to. Feyrith understood that this mission was time-sensitive, and the sooner it was dealt with the better.
Then again, their most important mission, and their constant priority, was to help the humans, which made this very conflicting. But ultimately leaving this threat unattended might potentially be more dangerous to humans than their current problems. Feyrith would do his best to help on his way back, assuming he wouldn't be immediately recalled to Aendor, but that was unlikely. He had no important research or duties that couldn't be put off for a few days.
Though even now he thought he'd rather stay and help these people than go back. At least for a while. He'd never been encouraged to do so, which he assumed was because the Council didn't find him experienced enough to go here. But, while he would hate to overestimate his abilities, he was confident that he was powerful enough to make a difference without it being too risky.
The constant use of his magic was exhausting, definitely, but he knew that would get better with each spell he cast. He hadn't had much opportunity to practice healing spells for example, which were the most obvious drain, but it was only a matter of practice. And he wouldn't get much opportunity to practice on Aendor, where all injuries were treated by elves who had studied healing magic for decades. All he'd had to heal back there were his own papercuts from paging through books far too eagerly.
He was enjoying being here so far, though, which was a welcome surprise. He was still nervous, of course, but he was sure that would wear off in time. He'd never felt at ease in new places. But he was also constantly torn between that, and his fascination with everything around him. Frankly, it was difficult to keep himself from not stopping every time he so much as saw humans and listening to them talking about their everyday lives.
It was all just so different from everything he'd ever known, and it was intensely fascinating. Feyrith would have to make sure he didn't get too carried away. Which would be easier if reaching his destination wouldn't still take days.
His quasir let out a short caw as if it could tell what Feyrith was thinking and was taking it as a criticism. Feyrith ran a hand over the beast's feathers, quickly realizing what the actual problem was when he saw lightning appear over the dark gray sky, towards the horizon.
He frowned at the rolling clouds, which seemed to become darker and darker as he watched them. It was likely going to rain, then, which wasn't good. He'd only been traveling for a couple of hours now, and he would have to stop once again it seemed. And there was no village around to wait out the storm in.
Feyrith knew some shield spells he could use against the rain, but he knew he wouldn't be able to keep those going for a significant amount of time. Despite his best efforts, these spells always tired him out very quickly because shield spells were some of the most taxing non-offensive magic there was.
As thunder continued rumbling in the distance Feyrith looked around, trying to spot anything that could be used as shelter. There was a large field of very tall grass on his left, stretching to the distance all the way to the jungle. Those strangely tall trees would offer protection, but Feyrith wasn't very thrilled at the idea of going back there.
On his right, though, mountains blocked off the view of the ocean. Of course, he couldn't go so far as to climb them, but perhaps the creased, stone wall in the relatively close distance might offer a cave to hide in. And a little farther away there seemed to be a large cluster of trees as well. Feyrith would likely not make it there before it started to rain, but it would protect both him and the quasir.
He pushed his mount to run faster, steering it off the road and onto the grass as the first drops of water began to fall. It wasn't too bad at first, but within a few moments the rain became heavy enough that Feyrith had to keep a hand above his eyes so he could see anything at all.
Deciding that he wouldn't be able to see through the rain well enough to notice if there was an opening within the rock wall, Feyrith focused his efforts on the cluster of trees, pushing the quasir to run even faster. It didn't protest at all, clearly also eager to get away from the rain.
The quasir reached the trees just as the rain was becoming so thick Feyrith could barely see in front of himself. Feyrith grimaced as he immediately realized that his robes were soaking wet. He shuddered as a gust of wind hit him, climbing off the quasir's back. The air had gotten colder, but it was tolerable. Or it would be if not for how wet he was. He would have to start a fire if he was to dry off.
Feyrith peeled his robes off and shuddered as he realized how wet his tunic and pants were as well. It was still much better than his robes, though. He would have to undo his braids for his hair to dry, too, and he wasn't looking forward to it. It was always so much work to tie them back again properly. Although there was no other elf here to tell him that his unbraided hair was improper....
He left the quasir where it was standing under a tree, shaking its feathers to get the water out. After carefully taking off his staff and satchel, Feyrith put his wet robes over a branch before setting out to gather some sticks and dry leaves that were on the ground. Some were unfortunately far too fresh to burn well, but Feyrith managed to gather enough of the dry ones to last for a while, hopefully.
Despite how uncomfortable he was in his wet clothes, Feyrith couldn't help but feel enthusiastic about this. He'd never actually tried making a campfire. It was strangely exciting. He would just have to make sure to be careful with his fire magic, so as not to set this entire place on fire.
He carried the wood back to where the quasir was now relaxing, its hind legs stretched out. Feyrith quickly arranged the sticks and leaves into what he hoped was an effective shape before putting his hand over it and muttering a weak fire spell. The kindling burst into flames immediately, the sound of crackling wood barely audible over the still very loud rainfall. But its effect was felt immediately.
Feyrith sighed, letting his hands dry off first before getting started on undoing his three braids. He carefully pulled off the stretchy, leather straps that were holding them together, taking them off one by one and then shaking out his hair. It felt almost odd to have his hair like this, as although he did sometimes undo the braids, it wasn't often, and it was usually only to fix them if they had gotten untidy.
He made sure to collect all of the hair ties in one hand, taking a moment to study how the small, golden starflowers attached to each of them glinted in the fire before putting them into his satchel. It wouldn't cause too much trouble if he lost them, but Feyrith still didn't feel like lying about how it had happened. Elves were supposed to be honorable and virtuous, and lying was neither of that.
Lightning flashed somewhere behind him, even closer this time. Feyrith grimaced as the boom of thunder practically deafened him for a moment. He truly hoped none of the trees around him would get struck. But with the much taller trees of the jungle not too far away, Feyrith doubted it.
To distract himself from the wind and rain, he unrolled his map again, checking where he was going for likely the hundredth time. But this time he focused on the towns and villages he would pass on the way. He would have to avoid traveling through some of them at least or he was never going to get to his destination. It was surprising how difficult it was not to get distracted, as on Aendor he'd not had many things to occupy him other than his studies.
He found himself drying off fairly quickly at least, though the rain wasn't letting up at all. It seemed to be gaining intensity if anything. Feyrith sighed, about to take out his journal and note down some of the thoughts he'd been having over the last day when the quasir, which had until now been lying under a tree, sprung up.
Feyrith studied it, frowning at the way its eyes were wide open, and its ears flat against its head. But he quickly realized what was upsetting the animal when he noticed a figure by the mountain wall. There was a woman there, watching him. Feyrith relaxed, letting out a relieved breath. He had already started getting worried about some creature about to attack them, but thankfully that was not the case.
He got up and stroked the quasir's head, trying to calm it down. He was surprised at its rather strong reaction to simply the presence of a human. It had been perfectly calm in Everward. Thankfully the quasir let itself be convinced quickly and soon lay back down with a quiet caw, this time closer to the fire.
Feyrith kept watching the woman, knowing that she must have noticed he'd seen her by now. He wasn't sure how to try to project that he wasn't a threat, though, so he simply stood by the fire, making sure not to make any sudden moves. Finally, after a moment the woman seemed to decide that there was nothing to fear and slowly and cautiously started walking towards him.
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Feyrith studied her. He'd noticed that humans, in general, weren't particularly well groomed compared to elves, but he wasn't surprised considering the conditions they had to live in. But unlike this woman, they were never dirty. Her tunic also seemed to be torn and tattered in places, and her arm seemed to be injured. She wasn't close enough for him to figure out how serious it was, but the woman had a bandage around her bicep, so she was clearly in need of healing.
"You're an elf," she said when she stopped, standing a few feet away from the campfire. She seemed surprised, which wasn't an uncommon reaction it seemed. Feyrith truly didn't like the reason behind that, but as he'd told Edwyr, there were just not enough elves to protect every village and town. And since most of the large human cities were in the south, it left this part of the continent very unprotected, unfortunately.
"Yes," he replied, despite that being more than obvious. "Are you injured?"
The woman still seemed a bit dazed, but she nodded, her tangled, frizzy hair falling in her face. "Uh, yeah. Um, I had a run-in with—ah, doesn't matter. It's nothing."
Feyrith took a few steps forward, making sure to do so slowly so as not to startle her. "I could heal you if you would like."
The woman raised her eyebrows at him. But then her expression grew suspicious. "And what will you want in return?"
Feyrith blinked. He hadn't expected her to ask that. None of the other humans he'd healed had assumed they would have to pay him for his services. Perhaps this woman was even less familiar with elves, though. She did seem to be more distrustful of him than anyone he'd met so far.
"Nothing, of course. It is our duty to provide aid to those not gifted with magic," he replied, bowing his head. The woman continued watching him with suspicion, but then she started to undo her makeshift bandage. It was bloodstained and dirty, much like the rest of her. Feyrith hoped the wound wasn't infected.
"Well, if you're offering...."
She stretched her arm towards him, letting him see a long gash. It didn't seem very fresh, but it was red, and it looked painful. Feyrith once again felt nothing but pity for the humans. Their bodies would heal injuries like this most of the time, but it could take days, sometimes even weeks, and it would leave scars. He'd never truly realized how easy elves had it in comparison. It only made their mission of helping the humans seem all that more important.
Closing the distance between them, Feyrith put a hand over her arm as gently as he could, though the woman still flinched.
"Sal'eth e nali kar," he muttered, feeling energy pour out of him and into the wound, which closed itself up within a second, leaving behind only a little dry blood and dirt.
The woman drew her arm away immediately, staring at it with disbelief. She ran her hand over the place where the gash used to be, her mouth still open. Had she truly never seen magic? The other humans he'd met also didn't seem to know much about it, but they hadn't had a reaction as dramatic as this.
"I...I didn't know it was so...." The woman shook her head, finally looking at Feyrith again. "Uh, thank you."
"You are very welcome." Feyrith felt a small smile tug on his lips, and he couldn't manage to school his face back to complete neutrality. But then, he wasn't wearing his hair properly right now anyway, so he supposed smiling was a lesser offense. And besides, he'd noticed that humans tended to be a little put off by him not showing them. Feyrith didn't wish to question the elven traditions, but it felt more efficient to put humans at ease rather than following them to the letter. He would have to ask other elves about their views on this subject.
"It's not some kind of illusion, is it?" The woman was still rubbing her arm, as if expecting the wound to still be there, only hidden. Feyrith shook his head. Even if he had wanted to create an illusion, he was sure it wouldn't look this convincing. He wasn't very good at them, but they were frowned upon, given that the only thing they could be used for were tricks, so it didn't matter much.
"How does this work, then? You say some magic words and things get fixed?"
Feyrith wasn't sure if he should be amused or offended, but he didn't think she was trying to be disrespectful, so he decided to humor her. "Words hold power for those who know how to wield it."
The woman frowned at him, looking a little annoyed even, but then her expression turned more pleasant and thoughtful. "Can you also heal more serious injuries?"
Feyrith tilted his head to the side. "Is someone else injured?"
The woman let out a tired sigh, running her hands through her tangled hair. "Yeah, my uncle. He broke his leg a few days ago." She looked at Feyrith again, giving him a sad look that made the elf's heart ache. "I know he'll heal on his own, but that could take months and...."
She didn't continue, but Feyrith didn't need her to. "I can heal broken bones, yes." It might be a little more difficult, but he could use his staff to give himself a boost. That should be enough to ensure the healing would be proper and correct. But there was the matter of the storm....
"So, you will help him?" she asked, a grin on her face. Feyrith threw a look toward the flashing lightning somewhere beyond the trees. There was no thunder anymore, but the rain wasn't losing intensity. "Oh, don't worry. We can get to him without having to go into the storm. We live just up here."
Feyrith watched the woman point at the mountain wall behind her. He wasn't sure where exactly these people had housing if it was truly here, but he didn't see the problem if there truly was a path to take without having to dry off again afterward. After all, the only thing he could do here was to wait out the storm, so he might as well help someone while he did so.
Feyrith bowed his head, walking over to the tree behind him to retrieve his still somewhat damp robes. He felt the tips of his ears grow warm and his heart skip a beat when he remembered that he was never supposed to let a human see him without wearing them. But there was nothing to be done about that now, he supposed as he quickly threw the robes over himself, trying not to shudder at the coldness of them. In a way, he was grateful for the humans' ignorance in these things, though he knew it was wrong to think that way. Still, at least like this, he could be sure no one was going to report him to the Council for improper behavior.
As Feyrith quickly collected his staff, he took one of his hair bands from his satchel and pulled his hair into a ponytail. It wasn't the proper braids he was supposed to be wearing, but it was better than nothing. He considered taking the satchel with him, but since it was still wet and not necessary for this, he decided against it. This should take just a moment. Finally, he took the quasir's reins into his hand, tugging on them gently to get the animal to get up. Leaving the quasir here would be an unnecessary risk since he didn't want to tied it down anywhere, but he also didn't trust it not to run away if someone or something scared it.
"Lead on."
The woman smiled and started walking, looking back every so often to make sure Feyrith wasn't lagging behind. He was surprised to find out that the seemingly small enclave of trees went on for much longer than he had thought originally, and they spent a while simply walking along the mountain wall, heading for what turned out to be a narrow passage through a crack in the moss-covered stone. Feyrith frowned at it. He'd certainly not been expecting this. At least it seemed to be wide enough for the quasir to pass through as well.
So Feyrith once again followed behind the woman, wondering where this passage was going to lead. He did his best to ignore the occasional drop of water as they went, as even though it seemed there was a ceiling of stone above them, the crack continued all the way up, becoming more and more narrow.
The moss beneath their feet made it difficult to walk, but thankfully Feyrith managed not to stumble or fall and make a fool of himself. He did let out a small breath of relief when he spotted an exit, but he made sure his sigh was quiet enough for the woman not to hear him. He was likely the first elf she had ever met, and thus he had a responsibility to represent his people well. It was a lot of pressure, the more Feyrith thought about it.
"It's over there," she said as she walked outside, waving her arm, with Feyrith right behind her. On this side, more trees were shielding them from the storm, though there wasn't enough of them to stop all of the rain. Feyrith frowned, trying to find a house until he spotted a large, rocky hole in the ground a bit away from him, partially hidden by shrubs.
Feyrith couldn't hide his grimace as he followed the woman down into the underground tunnel, leaving the quasir by the entrance. Did these humans truly have to live in a cave? If so, he couldn't help but feel sorry for them. It would certainly explain why the woman was covered in dirt, at least, but Feyrith couldn't help but feel surprised. He'd never read about anything like this.
Torches lined the walls to light their way as they got too far down for daylight to reach. But before he could ask about how large this cave was, they reached a well-lit, open room with a large table in the middle of it, a few chairs around it, rugs and animal skins covering the floor, and an ornate, metal chandelier hanging from the stone ceiling. Feyrith immediately had many more questions, but as there was another human here, sitting at the table, the elf left them unsaid.
"Is that an elf?" The chair he had been sitting on made a loud noise as it scraped against the floor, the man practically jumping up in shock.
"Yes, he's here to heal Uncle's leg."
The tone she used was a little odd, Feyrith thought, but he didn't know nearly enough about human customs to judge this objectively. And the other human didn't seem at all puzzled by it. Instead, he gave a nod and waved them over.
"Right, of course. This way."
Feyrith studied the man as they followed him, noting that he wasn't nearly as dirty as the woman. Perhaps she'd gotten into this state during the storm, then.
They walked through one of the short corridors that led from the first room, making Feyrith wonder just how much of this cave was natural and how much they had changed with pickaxes. Even if it were only a little, it was still very impressive to him. Though he still had no idea why these humans lived here.
As they reached a sturdy-looking door, which Feyrith hadn't been expecting to find here but likely should have, the man knocked on it. Immediately, there was a gruff, annoyed voice coming from the other side.
"I told you not to—"
"An elf is here. To heal you," the man cut in, sounding equally as annoyed. It never failed to fascinate Feyrith how open about their emotions humans were.
There was silence for a moment, before the man behind the door, who must have been their uncle, told them to come in. As the door opened, Feyrith was given a good look at the man sitting on a bed. Though the only thing he could truly pay attention to was the large, braided beard the man was sporting. It was simply a very uncommon sight for Feyrith. Though the man's wrinkled and scarred, yet fearsome face was difficult to ignore, despite his wide, surprised eyes softening his features somewhat.
"So you weren't joking...."
Feyrith turned his attention to the man's leg, wrapped in what looked like a very simple cast, only made of a few thick sticks and cloth. Still, that would do nothing to complicate the healing.
The man was giving him rather suspicious looks, but he didn't protest when Feyrith made his way around the small table in the middle of the room and over to him. Gripping his staff tightly, Feyrith carefully placed the tip of it onto the man's leg. He closed his eyes, muttering the healing words and focusing his magic through the staff.
It was done in an instant, though to him it felt like much longer than that as energy drained out of him, leaving him lightheaded and breathing hard, leaning onto his staff. Despite this, he wanted to take a look at how well healed the man was, just to make sure Feyrith had done it right.
Buthe'd barely managed to open his eyes again when suddenly something struck himin the back of his head hard. He immediately fell to the ground, hisconsciousness slipping away from him as he did, with the last thing his blurryvision showing him being the older man, now standing, looking down at him withan empty bottle in hand.