Eofe was fortunate that the throughfare led straight from the gate to the harbor, or she might have gotten lost in the city. As it was, she gawked at the sights with every step even as the crowd suffocated her with her first experience of true civilization and the cacophony of voices that accompanied it.

The Aedwyn eye for order and beauty was on full display in the city, with nearly every building being made of the same white stone as the walls and topped with bronze tiled roofs. It created a wondrous sight as the sun glinted off the rooftops that sloped down from the gate to the sea. The streets were clean and orderly, with the throughfare clearly divided into sections for horses and wagons, and another for foot traffic, so that even a newcomer like Eofe knew where to walk. The symbol of Aedolin was ever-present within the city, displayed on pennants flying above the shining roofs and on banners hanging beside buildings of import. Even many citizens bore the star of Aedolin, presenting it on a necklace, scarf, or some other adornment.

Eofe was also surprised by the amount the greenery in the city. There were trees and little gardens in every corner, with many homes and storefronts decorated with hanging ivy and potted plants. Eofe passed small parks where Elves lounged on trim grass under perfectly manicured trees. The Aedwyn city was a fascinating inversion of a Surag Fal, where in Eofe’s home it was nature that thrived and the small slices of civilization were placed to the side.

It took Eofe a long while to reach the harbor, with the sky having already fallen to dusk by the time she could taste the salt in the air, and the sea was lit with an orange glow all the way to the horizon. Dozens of masts grew out of the water like a copse of trees, and the ships were packed so tightly together that Eofe couldn’t imagine how any them could get in and out of the harbor.

Now that she was finally there, Eofe suddenly realized she had no idea what to do. She had a vague plan to buy passage on a ship leading to Orith, but there were a number of ships docked in the harbor and there was no way to tell where any of them were going. She did notice some marked differences in design between some of the ships. The Elven ships were obvious and the most numerous, each bearing Elvish writing on a sleek hull with high quality craftmanship, and flying a flag with the star of Aedolin on the tallest mast. The other ships came in a variety of styles that indicated some origin Eofe could not decipher.

She asked a random passerby where she could go to buy passage on a ship and was directed to a tavern just off the dock where the ships’ crews gathered. She found herself standing outside the door of The Light of Fyndel as the sun dipped below the horizon and the warm glow and raucous laughter from within the tavern assaulted her senses. She took a deep breath, offered a prayer to the Greenwarden for strength, and stepped inside.

It should be said that while dockside taverns were nearly universally places of filth and ill-repute, where the dregs and outcasts of society gathered (namely [Drunk]s and [Sailor]s, with the chief difference between the two being that one had a job at sea), the Aedwyn variety was a step above the rest. But only just. The floors were clean and the furniture sturdy and whole. The ale was rarely watered down and the food fresh and thoroughly cooked. The people, however, the Aedwyn could do little about. While most of the denizens were Elves, the port of Anar Fyndel was open to the world, and the consequences of that were most clear at the tables of The Light of Fyndel.

It was at this moment that Eofe came face to face with the ugly truth of the world. Up until this moment, she had only ever been in the company of her fellow Elves, be it Surag or Aedwyn. In the murky interior of a dockside tavern, Eofe encountered the first members of another species. And now she was finally confronted with the undeniable truth she had been warned of her entire life…

Elves were just better looking than everyone else.

Of course, Eofe had been told all about Elven superiority growing up. But she was a clever girl and knew when to suspect her elders were filling her head with nonsense. In this case, however, every word they had spoken was the truth. The other species were ugly. She couldn't believe her eyes. It was so easy to distinguish the Humans from the Elves. Besides the rounded ears, there was something about their faces that just wasn't right, as if they had all been dropped on their heads one too many times as a child. The men were worst of all—some even had hair on their faces!—but even the women occupying the tavern were lacking in some innate quality that Eofe had taken for granted all her life.

The more unusual races were better in a way. A red-scaled Drake sat in the corner, and though Eofe would never call the man handsome, she could appreciate his appearance in the same way one might find a salamander beautiful. Contrast that with the Humans, who Eofe couldn’t help but to pity in some small way. It certainly didn't help matters that her first exposure to foreign species was in a dockside tavern, a place that wasn’t known to host the most attractive of folk to begin with.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Partly due to mild revulsion, and also a general fear of strangers and the unknown, Eofe chose to approach the Elven captains and crew first. She picked out a table hosting a handful of Aedwyn who looked a step more refined than the rest of the tavern, meaning that they looked like they only got into a brawl once every other week. But on asking if they were headed to Orith, the captain took one look at Eofe’s antlers and spat on the floor—earning him a smack on the head from a passing barmaid—before answering, “No room for a Surag on board.”

Eofe shambled around the room, speaking to other Elven captains and crew, but received much of the same welcome from each one. Once again Eofe found herself in the company of Aedwyn at the most inopportune time to be doing so for a Surag. One of the Elves finally took pity on her and directed her to a table in the back where a Human captain sat with some of his crew, and Eofe conceded that she would have to forgo the familiar company of Elves for this journey.

She approached the table, around which sat the Human captain and several other Humans, but included one squat and bearded man that Eofe assumed to be a Dwarf.

“Are you going to Orith?” she asked.

“Why, yes I am, little lady. What's it to you?”

Eofe disliked him immediately, but beggars can't be choosers.

“I’m going to Orith. I need passage on a ship.”

“We've got room for a handful of passengers, sure. The rate's five gold stars, or equivalent currency.”

“I... don't have that much.” Eofe had counted all her coins after entering the city, to avoid another embarrassing encounter. She had only one gold star and a handful of copper swords left. She had given all of her crowns to the guard at the gate.

“Ah, well, truthfully that's a low rate. You'll have a hard time finding anything for less than that. Best of luck to ya, darling.”

Eofe thanked him anyways and continued asking around about other non-Elven ships, only to find that his warning rang true. One ship was willing to let her on for four stars, but the rest asked for even more than the first captain.

After exhausting all her options in the tavern, a dejected Eofe walked out into the cold night air. The sun had fallen completely while she had been inside, and now the city was lit by blue and white magic lights, like thousands of fireflies floating in the dark. She wasn't in the mood to appreciate the view, however, and trudged over to the pier where a handful of ships were still docked, their crews loading or unloading goods. She sat on the ground and idly watched the process while she gathered her thoughts. She had no idea how to get more money, and getting more money seemed to be the only way to get to Orith. She assumed she would need to get a job, but she had no idea how to do that. Would anyone in the city even hire a Surag? And if she did get a job, how long would it take to earn at least three more gold stars?

There is a moment in every would-be hero’s journey when the promising hero falls to their lowest point. When all hope is lost and the future looks most bleak, they are faced with a crossroads. The choice they make at this time would determine the rest of their adventure; whether to abandon the hero’s journey and return home, or to rise above the occasion and find the inspiration to reach new heights.

Eofe did neither of those things. Rather, she did what most people did when one path led backwards and the other path looked too hard.

She did something stupid.

One of ships she was watching was the Penitent Scamp, a three-masted cargo ship whose first mate had asked for six gold stars to take Eofe to Orith. The crew seemed to have finished with their tasks and drifted past Eofe in the direction of the tavern. She spied only a couple of men left on the deck, presumably to watch over the goods.

So Eofe was struck with perhaps the worst idea she had ever had in her short (for an Elf) life. She surveyed the area to make sure no one was watching, then pulled up her hood and tucked her bow under her cloak to hide the shimmer of the bowstring. She cast [Light Step], so that even with her pack weighing her down, she stepped softly on the planking of the pier, and she stuck to the shadows as she crept up to the gangway leading to the Penitent Scamp. The men on duty were engaged in conversation, not even paying attention to the deck. They were probably more concerned about someone stealing off with some of the cargo, which would have been hard to miss, than with a solitary Elf girl sneaking onto their ship. She found the hatch through which the cargo had been placed, which was still open, and slipped through while the two men were distracted by their conversation and the city lights. The interior was dark, but [Owl Eyes] allowed her to find a space in the corner behind barrels and crates that had been lashed to the floor and walls.

She set her pack and bow on the floor and sat behind them, pulling her knees up to her chest. She didn’t have enough room the lie down, but she had slept in worse conditions before. She ate some jerky out of her pack and drained the last of her waterskin, while trying not to think about what tomorrow would bring. By some miracle—or misfortune, who could say—Eofe slept through the night, even as the noisy crew of the Penitent Scamp boarded the ship. She slept through the lines being untied and the ship setting off from port. She slept through the sails unfurling in the morning sun and the wind carrying the ship out to sea.

She didn’t wake up until well into the morning, when a sudden noise broke her out of a dream where the Wildwood had grown out of the streets of Anar Fyndel, and wild beasts of the Green roamed the city. Eofe opened her eyes to meet the bewildered gaze of a bearded Human man leaning over one of the barrels behind which she had hidden.

“Well,” the man said in Orithian. “This is a problem.”