----------------------------------------
What in nine hells…
The sight of the elf’s body felt like a blow, a shock that rooted me to the spot. I stared, unable to look away, as disbelief tightened my chest. The elf’s figure was so still, a haunting quiet draped over him in death, his once-lively form now cold and empty.
But what shocked me were those ears–pointed, slender, unmistakably inhuman–were the most striking feature, casting everything I thought I knew into doubt. I stepped closer, almost against my will, as if seeing him up close would explain away what my mind refused to accept.
"No... that can't be right," I whispered, barely recognizing my own shaky voice. I was sure there were only humans on Earth. There were monsters yes, intelligent beast races yes but no Elfs…only in fairy tales of long forgotten past had their mentions. My memories were shattered, scattered in fragments that I could barely piece together.
But I knew this much–or at least I thought I did.
Every instinct screamed to stay back, to keep a distance from this disturbing revelation. But curiosity, or maybe denial, pushed me forward. Trembling, I reached out, my fingers brushing against the pointed edge of his ear, as if merely touching it would somehow confirm it wasn’t real. But the skin was cool, firm. The ear didn’t vanish or dissolve; it was solid, undeniable.
“It’s real…” I muttered, fingers jerking back. A tremor ran down my spine, unease clawing its way through me. “This…this isn’t a trick.”
The words echoed hollowly in the cavern, offering no comfort. My own memories, hazy as they were, insisted that elves didn’t exist, that they were nothing more than myth or legend. But here, slumped against the wall, was undeniable proof to the contrary. My hand reflexively rose to press against my temples as if I could press the confusion out of my skull.
Fragments of memories, distorted and foggy, flickered through my mind. There had been incursions… yes those invasions that happened decades ago… they had different races..ughh.
Of all the fragments of my memories, one was the clearest when the sky shattered and that…eye… and then darkness, those events were just before I woke up here I think. And yet, everything I remembered, everything I thought I knew, felt like it was slipping away under the weight of this one encounter.
Did an incursion happen?
“What else…what else do I not know?” I whispered, my voice taut with the strain of trying to hold onto my sanity. A tightness settled in my chest, and I took a shaky breath, but even that did little to calm me. It was like looking down into a dark abyss, knowing there was more to be uncovered, but terrified of what I might find.
How could I trust my memories now?
Exira flared within me, reacting to my turmoil. The energy surged wildly, filling my veins with a thrumming power that seemed to echo my thoughts, growing more unstable with every passing second. I clenched my fists, struggling to rein it in, but it felt like trying to contain a storm with my bare hands.
"Stop... Stop Dammit," I muttered, but the surge continued–chaotic, relentless. The walls seemed to close in, shadows deepening, and my mind spiraled with questions I couldn't answer.
What if the cataclysm had broken more than just the world’s surface? Or What if… I’m not even on earth?...
And then, like an icy breath, a chill radiated from my earring. The metal dragon coiled around my ear, cold against my skin, and with it came a sudden clarity, a stillness that cut through the storm of my thoughts. My pulse slowed, my breathing evened, and Exira finally settled, retreating from the edges of my mind.
I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes for a moment, letting the strange calm settle over me like a balm. The earring’s chill lingered, grounding me, reminding me that panic would only lead to destruction. Slowly, I opened my eyes, my gaze returning to the elf’s lifeless body, the unsettling truth that lay in front of me.
I wasn’t going to get answers by panicking and thinking about this useless stuff. My memories were incomplete–that was clear. They were like pieces of a puzzle scattered across my mind, fragments of a past I had no control over. I wasn’t whole, and the more I fought against that reality, the more I would slip.
But every time I fought to death, fought with Exira the memories came back…little by little…
fuu~
“Fine,” I whispered, exhaling slowly. “Fine. Maybe there are things I don’t know… things I can’t remember yet. But I’ll find the answers.” I forced myself to step back from the elf’s body, my gaze lingering on the pointed ears one last time. He had secrets, too, stories locked away that would never be told.
Rest in peace, whoever you were
As my resolve solidified, my thoughts and will seemed to converge, blending into a singular, focused purpose. I could feel Exira aligning with me, its energy condensing into a smooth, steady flow that circled around me, lending clarity to my mind and calmness to my body. It was as though my thoughts themselves were now part of Exira’s current, every swirling doubt and curiosity feeding into a steady, unwavering direction.
"Damn dragon earring saves the day again," I muttered, touching the cool metal pressed against my skin. I mentally offered a quiet thanks. Its chill had steadied me when I needed it most.
I took a slow, deep breath, letting it fill my lungs and then exhaled, allowing the clarity Exira provided to settle into my bones. My gaze shifted back to the elf, the unyielding presence of his still form resting against the stone wall. His appearance was otherworldly handsome and ethereal, most of all unsettling even in death.
Kneeling closer, I extended a hand, fingers brushing against his neck to check for a pulse, though I already knew the truth. His skin was icy, the chill of death settled deep. No pulse. He'd been gone for days, his life snuffed out long before I arrived.
Slowly, I allowed my gaze to travel over his features, studying him with an intense curiosity that was only sharpened by Exira’s clarity.
His skin was pale, nearly white, a pallor that reminded me of ice or polished marble, utterly devoid of the warm tones typical of human skin.
His face was lean and sharp, each angle almost unnaturally defined, giving him an ethereal beauty that was stark and cold. His pointed ears were longer than I’d realized, more exaggerated up close, almost knife-like in their slender shape, adding to the strange, haunting allure of his appearance.
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
Even slumped against the wall, the elf’s height was impressive. I gauged he was at least six-foot-five, maybe even taller. In life, he must have had a striking, imposing presence, one that would have turned heads, elicited a mix of curiosity and wariness. Now, all that presence, that life, was gone, leaving only a silent form clothed in dark leather and shadow.
Reminding just how dangerous the cave is, I’m fortunate that I didn’t run into any hordes or big groups else I might have joined him too.
fuu
The armor he wore caught my eye next. It was a peculiar kind of armor, like nothing I’d ever seen before or was used to from my memories, the style was more medieval.
Dark leather, almost black, but with a sheen that suggested a kind of reinforced quality. My fingers drifted over it, testing its resilience. To my surprise, the leather felt firm yet flexible, its surface smooth but with a hint of rough texture. I pressed a bit harder, noting how it resisted the pressure. It was crafted to withstand impact, that much was clear, but it felt like it could also absorb strikes without restricting movement.
No tech…pure craft.
Curiosity nudged me to test it further, so I unsheathed one of my bone knives, the familiar weight comforting in my hand. I gave the armor a light slice, watching as the blade skated over the surface, barely leaving a mark. I tried again, pressing a bit harder, but the leather seemed to resist even more. I’m sure it’s enchanted and it was specially built for someone agile, someone who needed both protection and mobility in equal measure probably for a scout type.
It's nice quality
It is reinforced at key points, too: metal plating over the chest and shoulders, sections designed to cover vital areas without hindering the wearer’s range of motion.
The pants matched the armor in both color and material, a similar dark leather that looked deceptively simple yet was anything but. The plating extended down to his thighs and shins, covering areas that would be critical to protect in combat. The armor design was minimalistic, plain in its aesthetics, but there was a kind of elegance in its simplicity.
Every piece seemed placed with purpose, crafted for someone who valued efficiency over style. That tells a lot about the creator.
Over the armor, there was a dark leather cloak, long and plain with a hood, dark purple leather was used to reinforce the edges. Its material was thicker than I’d expected, likely weatherproof, offering another layer of protection.
The armor looks well thought out and not only pleasing to the eye but also extremely practical for hunting and exploring.
“This guy entered this cave willingly, so probably a hunting party or an explorer. Judging by the stuff I’m sure it’s former that means there must be more of the party and some probably still alive”
My eyes trailed to his remaining hand. His fingers were long, and calloused, evidence of years spent wielding a weapon or working with skilled precision. Yet there was only one adornment on his entire body – a single ring on his left hand. I examined it closely, noting its simplicity: a plain band with a single gemstone embedded in the center. The stone was dark, almost obsidian, with a faint glint that caught the dim light. I wondered if it held some significance or was merely a personal token.
A dark leather backpack rested beside him, matching his armor’s material. I reached out, fingers brushing against the leather, noting its texture. Like the rest of his gear, it was practical, designed for durability rather than aesthetics. It felt sturdy, and reinforced, like it had been built to endure rough terrain and harsh conditions.
“Well now the hard part…”
After a few moments of silent observation, I closed my eyes and knelt by the elf’s side. It felt strange, praying over a being I’d only just encountered a stranger in every sense–but there was an undeniable pull that urged me to honor him.
The quiet,only being I saw other than those ugly monsters, even in death, deserved recognition.
“I don’t know who you were, or what brought you here,” I murmured softly, voice barely a whisper in the chilled air, “but I hope you find peace, wherever you’ve gone.”
“ I would get your personal belongings to your kin and put your gear to good use. Thank you truly ”
The stillness around us seemed to deepen, as if the cave itself were listening. The usual persistent drips of water, the whispers of drafts through unseen cracks, all seemed to still for a heartbeat.
Then, breathing deeply, I steeled myself for what I had to do next. Survival required that I strip him of his armor, of anything that might serve me. My fingers hesitated at the clasps of his cloak, feeling almost like an intrusion, a final insult to his dignity. But practicality forced my hand. This armor might save my life. This armor, for all I knew, was meant to endure against things I had yet to face.
Working carefully, I stripped the elf of his belongings, handling each item with a kind of gratitude, in the slow, deliberate motions. The dark leather cloak came off first, its weight solid in my hands, more than I’d expected. Then, I unclasped the plated chest armor, marveling at the way the pieces connected. The metal didn’t have the cold, lifeless shine of steel, but instead a burnished finish that seemed almost alive in the dim light. Removing it was an exercise in patience, each section coming undone with a soft, echoing click. Every time I undid a strap or latch, the quiet seemed to thicken, growing heavier.
The pants followed, along with the shinguards, and finally the gloves. Bit by bit, he was stripped down to a plain undershirt and trousers.
“Yeah not touching your undergarments at least mine survived as well…I should wash, mine real quick though when i get the chance “
Shaking my head, I studied the ring, the dark gemstone resting in its center.
Was it a token of rank? A reminder of someone he’d loved? Or simply a symbol of his people?
The gemstone seemed to hold a glint that caught even the faintest light.
After gathering everything and putting them in either my sack of leather bundle or the backpack, I hefted the elf’s body, surprised by how light it felt. The weight was almost nothing – a strange contradiction given his size.
I moved further down the cave, the steady, cool draft Exira had shown me earlier guiding my steps. Maybe there was an opening nearby, someplace where he could rest in peace rather than burning within these suffocating tunnels. I wasn’t about to turn this confined place into a charred grave.
The echo of rushing water grew louder as I walked, drowning out even my own footsteps. The sound was unmistakable–a waterfall, hidden somewhere beyond the twists and turns. My heart quickened at the thought. Real water, fresh and untainted. After another turn, the source revealed itself: a small waterfall trickling from the rock wall into a pond. Relief coursed through me as I put the elf’s body down, positioning him gently in a quiet corner, just away from the pool.
A sigh escaped me as I stood back, letting my gaze linger on his form for a few more moments. Exira pulsed in my veins, a steady, calm warmth that felt almost like it was watching over me. I took a steadying breath, then closed my eyes, summoning Exira. It surged through me, strong and fierce, brightening with my intent. Extending my hand, I directed its energy toward the elf’s body, letting it flow freely until it caught.
The flames that Exira conjured were intense, yet strangely warm, igniting with a ferocity that didn’t falter. They spread quickly, engulfing the elf’s body, transforming it into an ethereal pyre in the darkness of the cavern. Shadows flickered along the cave walls, thrown into dancing shapes by the light of the blaze. The fire burned quickly, consuming him until nothing remained, not even ash.
When the last of the flames died away, I stepped back, feeling an odd sense of finality. The air was still again, the cave silent as ever. I turned away, letting my eyes fall on the pile of gear I’d collected–the armor, the ring, the cloak, even the sturdy leather backpack which I’ve yet to open but water first.
Only then did I turn back to the pond, ready to quench my thirst. The urge to dive in was strong, but I caught sight of my ragged, filthy reflection and held back, not wanting to defile the only clean water I’d seen in… well, however long it had been.
I knelt instead, cupping the cold, fresh water in my hands and drinking deeply. Laughter bubbled out as I took each sip, the coolness spreading through me like a balm.
Kneeling beside the items, I ran my hand over the armor’s surface. The leather felt smooth, the metal plating solid beneath my fingers.
“I’ll make sure to use them to their full potential ”
Exira surged with odd calm as another memory came…
----------------------------------------