Full-blooded elves in this world did not die natural deaths, Elyon explained. They were functionally immortal. They could be killed, and they did still age, albeit slowly, but left to their own devices an elf would never die from age alone.
That was why, when an elf was old enough that they could feel themselves starting to drift further and further away from this world, they would, at some point, choose to follow the “path of ruin,” as it was sometimes called euphemistically.
“We must carry ourselves to the next world on our own two feet,” said Elyon. “That is our burden to bear as a long-lived species. Many feel that our father, King Theodas, has held on too long, and that his selfishness in clinging to life is leading the heart of our kingdom to stagnate and rot in foolish delirium. They say he should have followed the path of ruin long ago...”
Elyon placed his hand on the pillar, and the expression in his eyes as he looked up at the stone was unreadable.
“Damn…” said Anne. That was pretty heavy. “What do you think?”
Elyon didn’t speak for a moment. Then he took his hand off the pillar and looked back at Anne. “I think that’s his decision to make,” said Elyon, dispassionately. “As it will be yours one day, although you are far too young to seriously contemplate that as an option now. Actually, how old are you, exactly?”
Anne desperately tried to remember what age the Saintess had been in The Foundling’s Wings.
“I’m not exactly sure… uh, since I was abandoned at the church steps as a baby I don’t know exactly when I was born,” said Anne, mentally high-fiving herself for the believable excuse. “I’m about twenty-six or twenty-seven, I think?”
Elyon shook his head sadly. “Barely more than a child.”
“What even is the age of majority for elves?” asked Anne.
“Twenty-five,” replied Elyon. “As young as that is. We don’t mature that much slower than humans, although we age much slower than them. I believe Agis is something like ten years your elder, which I’m sure would seem like a large age-gap from a human perspective, but from an elven perspective that practically makes you twins.”
“Huh, interesting… Oh, wait a second!” said Anne. “I just remembered, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about!” Anne squared her shoulders and pointed an accusatory finger. “What the fuck is with the way you’ve been treating Agis?”
Elyon looked taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“He’s your brother, not even your half-brother, your full brother. And in the past couple days you’ve barely even looked at him!”
“Ah, well—“
“And he says you’ve been ignoring him basically his whole life!” continued Anne, advancing on Elyon while waving an accusatory finger. “Do you have any idea how lonely he sounds when he talks about his childhood? And then you gave him this post as the rebel army leader, and he wanted to make you proud, but he feels like he’s failed, and you don’t seem to even care either way. What’s with that?”
“Well, you see, it’s just that—“ Elyon looked a little panicked as Anne advanced on him.
“I know you don’t lack compassion or a sense of justice!” said Anne. “You’ve done so much to try to help your half-siblings out of a bad situation. So why can’t you show the same kind of consideration to Agis? And you seem to get along with Zaos just fine, so why not Agis? I just don’t get it. What makes Agis different?”
“He’s not different, I just—“ Elyon stopped mid-excuse, staring at Anne with a pleading expression. Anne just continued to glare at him.
Elyon sighed, and removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His expression softened as he regained control of himself. He no longer looked surprised or freaked out, just… sad.
“Saintess, the unfortunate truth of the matter is just that I’m not naturally very good with people,” explained Elyon.
“What?” Now it was Anne’s turn to be taken aback. That wasn’t really the sort of answer she had expected to hear. It sort of took the wind out of her accusatory sails. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Everyone I talk to about you seems to really genuinely admire you, but you say you’re not very good with people?”
“Not naturally. I hide this deficiency well because I’ve spent my whole three-hundred and eighty years of life studying how to be better at it,” continued Elyon. “Zaos is… well, he’s sort of grandfathered in because I’ve known him my whole life and he’s always just been there. And my half-siblings… well, there’s a hierarchy to it, isn’t there? I outrank them anyway, and with the added formality of them working for me in the Royal Guard, I know the rules for how to interact with them. Even you, well… you’re an important diplomatic figure, and I know rules for that, too. But Agis…”
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Elyon folded his arms and leaned sideways against the stone pillar. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. “For one thing,” he continued, “I’m literally ten times his age, almost exactly at the moment. And we share the same social rank so there aren’t any rules for how I should talk to him. I was already over three hundred years old when he was born. And I really don’t know how to deal with babies, so when he was first born, I just…” Elyon trailed off. “And then suddenly he wasn’t a baby anymore, and I… Well.” He looked over at Anne. “Does he not like being the head of the combined rebel forces? I thought he would like it. He would always sneak off to go spend time with you anyway, after he met you. I thought he would like working with you.”
Hearing Elyon talk, Anne could understand more how this misunderstanding came to be. Anne didn’t know much about the rest of the family, but Elyon at least wasn’t trying to hurt Agis. But Agis was being hurt anyway. It was a difficult situation. “Can I ask you one thing?” said Anne.
“Yes?” said Elyon.
“Do you actually care if the rebels succeed?” asked Anne. “Or did you give Agis that job as a way of keeping him out of the way? Even just partially?”
Elyon stared at Anne for a moment. “There may be… some truth to what you say. It’s possible that we may think of the combined rebel forces as something of a… distraction for the Wyernwolf Emperor and not necessarily as a… viable primary tactical force in this war.”
“So that’s why you didn’t get upset when you saw how disorganized the rebel camp is,” said Anne. “Agis thought you would be mad at him.”
“Did he want me to be mad at him?” asked Elyon, his brows knitting in confusion.
“He wanted you to care,” said Anne.
Elyon contemplated this. “I do care, though. About Agis. Maybe I don’t understand him yet, but I… I did genuinely think Agis would be happy leading the combined rebel forces. It seemed like—“
“It doesn’t matter how it seemed,” said Anne. “I understand that you’ve worked hard to be able to guess what people want in life, but even people who are naturally social can’t always guess that sort of thing. Sometimes you have to just ask.”
This surprised Elyon into another momentary silence. “Yes…” he said, looking thoughtful. “Yes, perhaps you’re right… Your insight into the soul is truly worthy of the title of Saintess.”
Anne laughed. “I don’t know about that,” she said. “But I’ve noticed a lot of people around here tend to be too subtle for their own good. Sometimes it’s better to be direct.”
A voice boomed across the clearing, “She got away!”
Zaos was striding back into the clearing, his armor looking a bit tattered and blood dripping from his face. Agis, Ylyndar, and the other elves chased after him, looking largely untouched. Elyon, Anne, and the others left behind moved to greet them.
“He wouldn’t even let us help fight!” complained Agis, waving his unfired bow. “He just kept shouting ‘Don’t interfere!’ every time we tried.”
“A duel between equals should never be interrupted,” said Zaos. He swung his massive sword up to rest across his shoulders as he spoke. “I would have gotten her, too, but she used some sort of flash bomb to temporarily blind my good eye and she disappeared before I recovered my sight.”
“Never mind that, are you okay?” asked Anne. “Do you need medical attention?”
“What? No, I’m fine,” said Zaos. “Why do you ask?”
“Your face is literally dripping blood,” said Anne, pointing at her own eye to indicate the injured area.
Zaos raised a hand to his cheek and it came away covered in blood. It was dripping down from under his eye patch, like a crimson stream of tears. “Oh, that,” he said. “Don’t worry about that. I wasn’t injured, my eye just does that sometimes.”
“What?” said Anne. “It just does that?”
“Yeah,” Zaos shrugged. “My eye’s a little bit cursed, that’s all. It’s not worth worrying over.”
“It’s… cursed!?” said Anne.
“Anyway,” said Zaos, quickly moving on. “Regardless of the outcome of our battle, you shouldn’t have to worry about that assassin bothering you for a while.”
“What? Why?” said Anne. “What do you mean?”
“She ran away when she blinded me. She’s bound to be lost somewhere out there now,” said Zaos, jerking a thumb back in the direction of the forest. “That woman has a special Sight and I believe she has a bit of elf blood in her, but she’s mostly human and unfamiliar with the Forest. Now it’s up to the trees how long they decide to keep her for.”
Everyone fell silent for a moment, contemplating this.
Elyon sighed again. “That’s that, then,” he turned to Sebastian and Corvina, who had been hanging back during this conversation. “Have you said your goodbyes? Are you ready to part ways?”
Sebastian and Corvina both nodded, and then they shared a final hug.
“Thank you for trying to save my life,” said Sebastian.
“Thank you for going along with my ridiculous plan,” said Corvina.
“And remember what I told you,” added Sebastian. “You’ve got to—“
Corvina kicked him in the shin.
I wonder what that’s about, thought Anne, mildly curious.
“Very well,” said Elyon. He gave another slight formal bow. “Prince Sebastian, if you would please come with me? The rest of you, in order to safely exit the forest, you need to—“
“Wait, where’s Eva?” asked Agis.
“Eva? She’s right—“ but when Anne turned her head, she realized she didn’t see Eva anymore. She looked this way and that, but the cleric was nowhere to be found.
“What the fuck?” said Anne. “Where did Eva go?”
----------------------------------------
The Unseen Rain stumbled through the Sacred Forest. That tall elf with the long hair was a tough fighter, and she’d sustained several internal injuries that were slowing her down. If she hadn’t used that flash bomb to escape, things may have gone poorly.
This was so annoying. She wasn’t even trying to kill the impostor Saintess anymore, she was just curious about her. And now she was hurt and she didn’t know where she was and she felt like the trees were glaring at her.
Not just the trees.
Rain spun around. The Forest had grown dark around her, and it grew darker still. Shadows were creeping out from behind the person now standing in front of her, reaching towards Rain, deepening the darkness.
“I believe we need to have a talk, you and I,” said Sister Eva, wreathed in shadow, a gentle smile on her face.