In our study regarding the more prominent races of Rixa, so far we have talked about the races of humans, dwarfs, high elves, and dark elves. As the last two topics were belonging to those of elven kind, I believe it to be wise to continue with the previously set tradition and discuss all major elven races in one fell swoop of the pen.
Leaving aside the dramatics, in the focus of today’s scholarly escapades, will be the forest elves, more commonly known as wood elves.
Wood elves compared to their high elven cousins have a shorter stature, which is accidentally similar to that of humans. Meaning that regarding males, they average around 1.7 meter height while females average at 1.6 meter.
Their skin colors are similar to that of humans having several shades from dark brown to white, while also including more exotic colors like pale grey or pale green and even something that could only be described as lavender. Latter being a most eye-catching and rare skin color among forest elves. As it tends to be with rare features, those forest elves, regardless of gender, who possess the color of lavender, are well sought after among their kinds and undeniably have a natural advantage over their peers. After all, in the forest elven culture, one’s natural skin, eye and hair colors and their various combinations can create the foundation of power and influence. It is an intriguing fact that I find quite similar to the behavior of peacocks and similar birds of feather…
Aside from the color of one’s skin, another unique characteristic of this particular elven race include their vast variety of radiant eye colors. Their natural range of eye colors include all spectrum of a rainbow and even more. Unfortunately, or fortunately, it would take way too much of our time to describe every different color of their existing irises, especially with a goal of completeness, and even then it would eventually turn out that there is more.
Suffice it to say that whatever color you can think of, there are likely at least a handful of wood elfs who have that same eye color. It is important to note as well that wood elven society treats one’s unique characteristics with high value. The more colorful a person is, in this case colorful is meant to be taken by its literal meaning, the easier one will find to navigate forest elf society on a whole.
Similarly, the less colorful one’s natural appearance is, and by that I truly mean natural appearance as forest elves despise the use of makeup or any other practices that are meant to manipulate one’s natural look. This unusual tendency of forest elven society is believed to be a result of their deep commitment to maintain nature’s values, and also the fact that certain societal standings are directly derived from one’s appearance. Therefore, using appliances that are capable of manipulating one’s appearance, for example coloring one’s skin to a slightly different shade, would have been undoubtedly an issue in such a ridiculous culture.
But let us not wander further from our original line of thoughts. I was just saying that the less colorful one’s natural appearance is, the harder it will be for them to achieve a high standing. Because appearances are taken a lot more seriously in the wood realm than anywhere else. Those with a dull natural look have little to no choice but to seek their fortune with different approaches, such as joining one of the various branches of the military, where aesthetics hold little to no meaning.
I must say, it is undoubtedly a shame and likely similarly daunting for their ilk to know that after such a colorful palette of eye colors, their hair color are as dull as mere humans, sharing only five shades of colors which are being white, black, brown, red and blond. What a pity…
The foundation of forest elven culture is intertwined with the two dominant pillars of their society representing the two sides of nature itself. The first one, which is representing nature’s beauty, is called the Faction of Flowers, while the other showcasing nature’s fury, is called the Faction of Thorns.
While the Flower faction cherishes the above-mentioned characteristics, the Thorns are the complete opposite. The Thorns disregard any frivolous notion and only take into consideration one’s strength, character and personal achievements. A complete opposite of the Flower faction’s values, the Thorns only focus on what is inside, almost entirely overlooking one’s outer appearance.
It is good to know that all wood elves are originally born into the Faction of Flowers, from where they could only leave by personal choice. The way that leads to making that very choice is, however, far from being simple…
Of course, while forest elves possess the potential to have a very colorful body, it is not likely for one to be born with aesthetics that are considered pleasant when faced with such unique expectations. Most forest elves, in fact, have a simple appearance considered by human standards. Meaning that only about one among ten will be somewhat privileged by forest elven society. While the more unfortunate tend to be brutally ostracized and frequently humiliated by their peers.
Those forest elves who are truly privileged by appearance will enjoy all pleasures of life among forest elven society, as they are treated like high nobles in this strange hierarchy created on the basis of colors.
While in contrast, those who are colorless or less colorful are expected to serve them. While the less colorful can still live a relatively comfortable life in higher positions, the colorless or dull will find no pleasure in this peacock hierarchy. Those at the bottom will endure humiliation as a daily occurrence.
While most people, seeing such barbaric traditions, will undoubtedly consider forest elves as stupid, and they are perhaps right from a certain perspective, the truth is somewhat different.
In essence, it is nothing more but a radically different set of values at which they built their society. I bet those wood elves who first encountered with our societal system based on gold and titles suffered the same disbelief and scrutiny as we do witnessing theirs.
The people at the bottom of the color hierarchy are the ones who tend to leave the Faction of Flowers and join the Faction of Thorns. This action is clearly artificially stimulated by their color based system of humiliation. Leading about two-thirds of all forest elf populace to eventually join the Faction of Thorns. Which name refers to all branches of their military and more, since the Faction of Thorns represent an idea by which its members view the world. It is not simply a gathering of militaristic groups even if indeed that is what makes up the most of them, but civilians too, who do the simplest of jobs and are wished to be judged solely by the worth of their work instead of the color of their skin.
While normally such extreme ratio between civil populace and the number of military personal is impossible, in this case it is not unwarranted. To understand the necessity for such an active army, one must know that forest elves live in the ancient forests that are used as natural borders between the land of the exiled races and us. Meaning that they are the ones who have the most frequent skirmishes with them, at least on the surface. While the dwarfs share this duty under the ground.
Aside from that, forest elves are a naturally militaristic race, even those of the Faction of Flowers receive mandatory training in fighting, regardless of gender. While the Faction of Thorns represent the majority of the fighting force of forest elf military, they are not entirely disconnected from the Faction of Flowers. It is quite the opposite. As two sides of the same coin, elven tradition upholds that one person from the ruling royal family must be chosen from the Flowers, while the other from the Thorns. As the rulers, must hold influence in both factions.
Joining the Faction of Thorns is irrevocably done by fulfilling the Rite of Thorns, which rite consist of receiving a full body tattoo of winy thorns running along one’s skin, permanently disfiguring it and showcasing to the world their choice to be solely judged by merit and merit alone. Onward from that moment, a member of the thorns are considered having a respectable status and could no longer be slighted based on their appearance. Still, it is important to note that they could very much be criticized based on their achievements or the lack of it.
Basic skin color hierarchy of the Faction of Flowers.
At the peak: Lavender skin color
Green skin color
Black skin color
Gray skin color
Brown skin color
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At the bottom: White skin color
Side note: the more intensive the shade of the color and the more lively the color is, the better, aside from that, the pairings of hair color and eye colors are the decisive factors. That is why black is only the third from the top, while white by that I mean similar to that of human white skin color and not actual paper white is treated as the lowest, basically colorless.
Extract from the book titled “The Intelligent Races of Rixa” written by human scholar Viscanu Winfred.
~oOo~
After we finished our impromptu breakfast in the garden, I decided to stick around for a while and enjoy the view of the garden from the slightly elevated view position of the pavilion. I was undoubtedly surprised by my own thoughts, as I honestly found the sight, even with all of its strangeness, quite remarkable and relaxing.
Thousands of tiny, tingling, bluish lights covered the enormous expanse of the mansion’s garden, all thanks to that strange, apparently edible moss. Aside from those twinkling lights, there were the thoughtfully placed magical lanterns hanging from tall black lamp posts filling the many walkways crisscrossing the garden with warm yellow light. Clearly, those lanterns were the distant lights I could easily see from the outskirts of the city.
The silence which seemed to surround me in the middle of the garden was both relaxing and comforting. I clearly needed the peace and quiet which this momentary calmness provided for me. Looking back at the memories of recent weeks, I got a cold shiver traveling up the entire length of my spine. Seriously, who in their right mind would think that all of those things were possible, and they actually happened with me?
I shook my head lightly, a twinkle of amazement and disbelief undoubtedly crossing my expressions, not that there were anybody to see it.
Well, yes… Bella had sneaked away at some point, while I was lost in my thoughts. I suspect that she feared some sort of retribution from my side after she tricked me into a less than savory conversation with her, well, I guess, our brother. Best to start getting used to the thought.
I sighed deeply at the memory. I guess I was indeed gullible, as Erirmun said. Still, to be fair, at that time I was still about fifty percent certain regarding this entire experience being some sort of sick dream.
“I should probably stop moping about and bring the plates and stuff back to the kitchen. I still find it hard to understand how all the work is done in such a large mansion without any servants.” — Well, whatever, I think I mostly remember the way that lead back to the kitchen, let’s hope that I do.
With that thought, I stood up, gathered the various kitchen utensils, and headed back.
I did a few wrong turns here and there, but in a relatively short time, I got back to the kitchen. Alas, it was no longer empty. Sounds of conversation could be heard from the end of the corridor. I stopped for a second, then continued towards it with self-conscious steps.
The door was left wide open as I took my first peek into the familiar room. I immediately noticed two dwarven women who were wearing white aprons, over their relatively simple attire. They were wearing simple clothes, but evidently well made simple clothes created by fine materials. Their hair were well kept, their ears decorated with rich earrings and their general appearance was pristine, faces powdered and all.
It was clear by a glance that these two women were hardly your average servants. They were noble women, who seemed to enjoy their time while preparing food and boiling several large bowls of food over the burning fires.
The moment I stepped into the kitchen, both women turned towards me, simultaneously ceasing their conversation.
While they took in my appearance with surprised expressions and slightly furrowed eyebrows, I could take in theirs.
One of them had black hair and dark brown eyes. She was a sturdy woman, with a lot of muscle even compared to average dwarven men, but that wasn’t the feature that took most of my attention. Poor woman had an enormous claw shaped scar running across the right side of her face. I couldn’t notice it before, but now that she turned towards me, the unexpected sight completely took away my breath. Through some horrid fascination, I couldn’t take my eyes off the horrible injury, an icy shiver running up the length of my spine as a reaction to the sight.
The other woman, fortunately, wasn’t injured like that. She had light brown hair with light brown eyes and a relatively lean figure for a dwarf.
Unfortunately, my previous and I will admit quite rude staring session wasn’t missed by either of the women.
Since the next thing I noticed was that their gazes didn’t seem to be particularly welcoming towards my presence. I sighed inwardly; great job, Selora, you have done it again!
I slightly cringed under their combined glares as they practically dismantled me with those assertive looks.
I stepped into the hall with a hesitant smile. — “Ah, good morning…” — I sweat dropped seeing their raising eyebrows. Way to go Selora… way to go! — “Uhm… I mean, I just brought back a few plates and stuff… Oh by the way, my name is Selora and I…” — My words were cut short as the black-haired dwarf lady snorted.
“You must be the girl everybody is talking about since yesterday.” — I nodded silently, eying the large knife with which she was chopping up some sort of meat on the table.
The women placed down the knife as if catching my glance and started to wipe her hands into a nearby rag, while simultaneously walking up to me. She took the tray with the empty plates and utensils from my hands, placing them down on the counter, then turned back to me.
“Name’s Jolga, I see you like my scar.” — She reached her hand towards me in the gesture of a handshake, and I accepted it, feeling a bit embarrassed that I got caught glancing at it again, thanks to that I noticed it too late, that there was a suspicious glint in Jolga’s dark brown eyes. The moment her larger hand engulfed mine in an iron grip, I instinctively tried to pull back my hand, only to realize I couldn’t.
The women seemed to have grasped onto my hand with alarming strength. I glanced down at my hand, unsure what to do, then back up into my unexpected assailant’s eyes as she slowly continued to increase the force of her grip while spying on my reaction with a curious gaze.
It didn’t take long for the pain to arrive, along with a sense of panic. I took a sharp breath, still dumbfounded by the incomprehensible situation I once again found myself in.
“Ow! Ouch! I… Lady Jolga?” — I questioned, starting to sweat, seeing the woman’s uninterested look. — “Could you-Ow! I mean, you are hurting my hand…” — I told her, hoping against hope, that the woman will let go of my hand and all of this was nothing but some poor dwarven joke, alas it didn’t seem to be the case.
The black-haired women cocked her head to the side and stated with emotionless tone. — “I didn’t hear the magic word, elf.”
I stared at her, dumbfounded.
Is she like five or what? The thought crossed my mind momentarily, but I shook it off as the pressure continued to grow on my trapped hand.
“Lady Jolga, you are being unreasonable… OW! Fine! Could you please let go of my hand?” — I said with a strained smile.
The woman chuckled at that, but she evidently let go of my hand, which I immediately pulled back and started to massage gently with my other hand. While I was too focused on restarting the circulation in my fingers, the woman once again surprised me.
In a swift movement, she grabbed my chin, pulling me down a few inches to match her eye level. — “Is that all you got, witch? Twisting your fork tongue, hmm? I will tell you that I got no love for your ilk, family or not.” — She took a disgusted look at me than added. — “Fiend Slayer, my arse!” — With that she pushed me backwards, while letting go my face, forcing me to take a few steps back to balance myself. — “Get out of my sight, I don’t have time for weaklings, oh… and next time you stare at my scar, I will break your wrist for it.”
As my initial shock was overcome, I felt a burst of anger coursing through my body. — “What is wrong with you?” — I demanded from the woman, straightening my back and leveling her with a furious glare.
She seemed to take in my reaction with more amusement than seriousness, as she added with a derisive tone. — “Some of us might be soft enough to tolerate you long-eared freaks just for your pretty eyes in this household, but let me tell you this, little girl, if you don’t pull your worth around I won’t give a shit about what Emrum preaches about you, neither will I for some backwater prince’s title.”
I blinked hard, listening to her reasoning. — “Look… I didn’t mean to stare at your scar… it just happened, kind of hard to ignore it, actually.” — I paused for a second, unsure if I should say it, but I decided to do it, anyway. — “Still, that is no reason to treat me like this; you don’t even know me…”
“What are you raving about, sweet cheeks?” — She turned back to me with renewed anger.
My eyes grow larger, a hint of a blush forming on my face. — “What did you just call me? N-no matter, I said you don’t even know me. What did I do to deserve such treatment?”
She took a long look at me, then added while throwing an apron in my face.
“You have a point there, sweet cheeks… Let’s get to know each-other than. Pull that on and get your fat ass next to the counter. You have already eaten, so you should have the energy to work.” — She added and turned back to check the boiling pots.
I stood there holding the apron and watching the woman’s back, utterly confused and unsure what to think about this entire exchange. It was at that moment when the other woman walked up to me, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder and immediately jolting me out of my stupor.
I turned towards the woman, who had light brown eyes and hair. I quickly noticed her troubled expression. — “Sorry about that.” — The woman whispered, helplessly shaking her head. — “My name is Dura, please don’t take what she said personally. Jolga is a berserker and can be quite harsh, but she is not that bad usually. Unfortunately, she is especially sensitive to her scar… and people looking at it. You have triggered her without knowing.” — She paused for a second, glancing over to the other women with a thoughtful look, then added.
“Still, I think she likes you.”
I grimaced at that, whispering back to her in a mocking voice. — “What makes you say that?”
She turned back to me with a serious look, then added. — “Well, none of your bones are broken.”
“Uh? You serious?” — I paled, seeing that her expression remained unchanged.
“What are you whispering over there? Get to it!” — Jolga shouted over to us, and we both got to it without a word.