“4…5…6…” I silently count the soft crunches of footsteps that come from the edge of the forest. “7…” I stop counting even though the number still rises. The footsteps are calm, relaxed, yet they harbor no sense of purpose. A passing being.
“By the stars above, what a peculiar sight…”. An unfamiliar voice echoes through the silence forest, followed by the creaking wood of the abandoned house.
In this aged forest, where only the endangered sleep safe. A carefree voice is not on the list of sounds that radiate through the layers of this ivory tower. Most voices, no matter how gentle or unassuming, echo for no longer than six paces from the edge. The seventh, often involves dissolving screams, sometimes the begging of god’s mercy, followed by the eventual silence as the forest nonchalantly and indiscriminately feeds off their mana. After that, the forest stands taller than ever and gleams invitingly to the other voices of the outside.
“This place seems untouched by time, it still holds the memories of past dwellers here.” The gentle voice bounces off the rough bark of the trees in the surroundings.
My shadow led me down to the gentle voice. “A human?” I thought when I saw the figure’s brown hair. However, that didn’t seem possible. There is no way for the forest to be pleased with a measly human. The figure obliviously explores the area as I lurk in the shadows observing. The tunic it wears harbors no crest, or anything that gives away a reason for the forest to be pleased.
The figure suddenly turns its head, its gaze aligning with mine. Its brown eyes and pointed ears are highlighted by the rays of sun piercing through the worn down cracks of the house. “An elf?” I questioned.
“Dark hair, dark eyes, pointed ears and an awfully carefree demeanor. He is unlike any elf I’ve ever encountered. But it would explain why the forest hasn’t eaten him up for his mana yet.” I concluded. I emerge from the shadow to confront the elf.
“Well, hello there… You seem to have found yourself a cozy spot amidst this forgotten abode”. It said as it crouched down to meet my eye level.
The elf’s sudden movement startled me, I hissed at him, my first and only warning. The elf’s face flashed a moment of shock but just as quickly contorted into a smile.
“Ah, I see you’re not one to trust easily…But fear not, my feline friend, for I mean you no harm…”
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“This elf is strange.” I thought to myself. I’ve encountered elves, though none that gave me any other expression outside of disgust. Elves were one of the few species that didn’t fear us black cats. Though it didn’t make them any less cruel towards us, others shunned and scorned our presence. The elves however, hunted us for sport. You’d expect an elf’s being to be much like its appearance, graceful, elegant and at the very least kind. But reality couldn't be more different.
I had been too absorbed in my thoughts to realize the elf was still yapping away. Something about being no ordinary elf and how it doesn’t expect to stay long. Despite my complicated history with elves, this one felt different. It didn’t harbor the same icy gaze, or the same haughty demeanor all elves embody.
A gust of wind blew, and there was a chime in the wind that I haven’t heard in a while. The trees that have sheltered and hidden me for so long were suddenly engulfed in the rays of sun fighting its way through the abundance of leaves. It has been a while since the forest has looked so… alive. Almost like the first time I found this place.
My gaze shifted towards his maple colored eyes to see him seemingly waiting for a response. “He is strange,” I concluded. I let out a soft meow in acknowledgement and returned to the shadows.
For the rest of the day, I continue to observe the elf from the shadows of the forest. It seems to have taken a liking to the abandoned house, and has made it its place of resting for the time being. It also seems that I am not the only creature in this forest intrigued by the gentle voice of this elf. All the other animals have come out to take a peek, though it seems to go unnoticed by the elf. Even that stupid bear, as big as it is, has also gone unnoticed.
Time flies, and the elf becomes a familiar presence in the area. I spend my days watching this painfully oblivious elf attempt to make a home out of the abandoned house, all while shunning the other creatures that try to make a meal out of him. I don’t understand how he does not sense the hungry eyes lurking in the shadows. At the very least, I haven’t been hungry for a while, I even had enough to share with the elf. It's not because I care about him or anything, it’s just pitiful watching him try hunting.
The elf seems to have grown fond of my presence, and my provision of food. He’s like a dog that salivates at the ring of a bell, he always looks at me with such…warmth when I bring him food. I, for one, feel indifferent. I’ll let him think whatever he pleases, it’ll be a pain if he was sad anyway.
Most nights, the elf would lay on the roof of the abandoned house and watch the stars, likewise, most nights I’d join him from my tree. It would start off to be a quiet appreciation of the moon and the stars that paint the night sky, then the elf would open his mouth and not shut up until he fell asleep. I will admit that he has a nice voice, an inviting one, that makes me want to hear what he has to say.
The elf often speaks of his time alone. He was an outcast, marked by his brown hair and eyes, and branded by the scar on his left ear that had been halved by the Elvian chief. A universal mark of outcasts, at least in this forest his experience wasn’t unique. Who would’ve thought that beneath this gentle voice would be a soul that was no stranger to pain.
“To breathe in the scent of adventure and feel the pulse of the world beneath my feet.” The elf says with such fervor. He’s in yet another one of his little yappings. I don’t understand anything he is saying, such passion is unknown to me. I don’t understand yet, this energy is so contagious. I want to understand the exhilarating feeling he speaks of.
In this aged forest, where only the endangered sleep safe. A gentle and hopeful voice is not on the list of sounds that radiate through this ivory tower. For the first time, I wish to not be sheltered by the abundance of leaves, or to be lurking in the shadows. For the first time, I wish to “breathe the scent of adventure”, as the elf describes. This abandoned house that I’ve regarded as nothing but a waste of space, became a landmark of the time my life changed.