“Lai’ Seili... we meet again. I believed our last encounter was to be the one and only,” Lord Jarailo’s voice resonated through the whispering grove of the mansion.
“Lord Jarailo, welcome,” said Lai’Seili, comfortably seated on a floral chair in a room adorned with enchanted vines that softly rustled.
“Oh my, where are my manners?” Lord Jarailo sighed. “Good day, Lai’Seili. And in my defense, pretty females make me nervous.”
“In that case, you must be nervous all the time in Elven Kingdom,” she quipped, gesturing towards another floral chair.
“No. I’m only just realizing it now, to be honest,” replied Lord Jarailo, settling into one of the peculiarly colorful seats.
“You jest, Lord Jarailo. However, I also believed we were only to meet once.”
“What changed then?”
“Your information was accurate. Thanks for that. The trust I placed in you— it was not misplaced.”
“My pleasure.” Lord Jarailo nodded respectfully. “I’m a merchant, and we live or die by our word. Our reputation either makes us or breaks us.”
“And it hasn’t broken you yet.”
“And it never will.”
“Can you promise me that?” inquired Lai'Seili, her golden eyes serious, piercing his.
“I can, and I will.”
She scrutinized his dark eyes, his lightly disheveled hair, and his confident demeanor that he couldn’t conceal. “You’re swift to make such a commitment... I’ll hold you to your word. We all will here in the Elven Kingdom.”
“I don’t expect any less, and to clarify, I don’t do this for anyone of your kin. I’ll keep my word for you.”
“Why?”
“Because you, Luz’sa En’terra Lai’Seili Fylso Lynya, voice of the Rulseah Family and Steward of Bra’nka, I hope I pronounced it correctly, were the first to trust me, so I must repay that trust.”
A faint smile graced the female elf’s lips. “You remembered my full name and titles... not many, even here in the Elven Kingdom, do that.”
“For someone like you, I could spend several nights trying to memorize each word...”
She chuckled softly. “How many nights?”
“Just three.”
Lai’Seili pondered the human’s words. “But didn’t you speak to Val’lay first? He trusted you too, didn’t he?” she redirected the conversation.
“I did. But he simply overheard my conversation with others and had nothing to lose... On the other hand, you even invited me to your residence. Every gentleman worth his clothes knows there’s a difference.”
“A difference? I thought all you humans saw us the same,” said Lai’Seli, her left hand supporting her chin.
Lord Jarailo observed Lai’Seili, a delicate figure, a refined beauty maturing into an elegant middle-aged elven female. “I see you’re fatigued,” remarked Lord Jarailo after a thorough examination of her appearance. “Is everything all right?”
That question caught the elven female off guard.
“Oh... do I now? I... family life.”
“I completely understand. Who can cause us more concern than family.”
“Do you have a family... a wife, children?”
“I did have a family. No wife nor children, but I had parents.”
“They passed away?”
“Of old age, as parents must... And now... it’s just me.”
“May they rest among your ancestors and may the light of Syl’vi’na guide their way to the eternal lake.”
“Thank you.”
A silence enveloped them, and before Lord Jarailo could speak, Lai’Seili took a deep breath and shattered the stillness.
“I have a son and a daughter old enough now to stand by their own decisions. They’re completing their studies...” she trailed off.
“Good to hear that. I hope I have the chance to meet them someday.”
Her expression suddenly turned serious.
“I’m sorry if a said something I shouldn't have,” Lord Jarailo attempted to amend his previous words. “I only meant to—”
“No, it’s not that. It’s...”
“Your husband?”
She exhaled, lost in memories of a life shaped by awkward choices made to mend a crooked destiny.
“Marriage is not my strong suit, but I see it as a coin toss. It can be great, or it can be hell,” said Lord Jarailo.
“Isn’t there a third option?”
“That’s what I mean by great.”
A brief chuckle escaped Lai’Seili’s pink lips. “I wish I had those odds, but from the outset, I knew that...” She stopped, recollecting something significant, then straightened in her seat. “Apologies for that. Please, disregard my words.” She then fell into silence, her demeanor turning serious.
“As you wish, Lai’Seili,” Lord Jarailo obliged.
“Having said that, I summoned you here so we could talk without interruption. I believe the intelligence you’ve provided the kingdom has proven valuable, and even my... the general has acknowledged it.”
“Your words honor me. But what do you seek? Because I will keep providing information.”
She sighed, gazing at the ceiling, a complex arrangement of leaves and flowers forming her family’s emblem, a stunning contrast to the weighty burden she carried.
“Do you possess...,” she selected her words carefully, “information that could restore this city its shine... and provide my family with...?” Lai’Seili struggled to find the appropriate phrasing.
“Ah... I understand. That kind of information... comes at a price.”
“We will pay.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. What I meant to say is that it’s costly to me. Every piece of information I provide you could jeopardize my integrity. It might yield not be true, or someone might notice my activities and... The more important the information, the greater the risk.”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“And here I thought you were the daredevil type. The kind humans love to boast about.”
“Do I give off that impression?”
“More or less...”
“Actually, I am extremely cautious with my actions and words. The issue with the daredevil type is that if luck favors them, their rise will be meteoric, indeed... but if luck eludes them... well...”
“And you don’t believe luck is on your side?”
“Do you believe in destiny, Lai’Seili?”
“Yes, in elven culture, destiny is one of our central tenets.”
“Hmm... then it might be hard for you to comprehend a single man capable of forging his path as he treads through life, and that if he is careful enough, after considerable struggle, he can reach the castle he envisions every day in his dreams, using his own power, his own wit, by his own merit.”
“And you consider yourself this type of individual?”
“Luck and destiny are the same to me. What moves me is a will deeper... somewhere I can’t even pinpoint myself, but it drives me to take a step onward, and then another.”
“You’re right. I find this... strange to our elven way of life.”
“Is it boring you?”
“No. Not at all. If anything, it deepens my understanding of your kind. Adversaries, certainly, but also a race with whom we share this continent.”
“It is a shame then...”
“What is?”
“That you’re an elf.”
A sudden surge to anger gripped Lai’Seili. “Know your place—” she began to rise, but Lord Jarailo interrupted her.
“And it’s a shame that I’m human,” he interjected. He gestured to her seat, and she settled back down, her expression now more confused than angry. “If we were anything else, Lai’Seili, I believe we could really understand each other and bridge this... divide that always exists between us, between elves and humans.”
The elven female scrutinized the human before her, a rare specimen of his race. While she had conversed with other humans—diplomats, politicians or even merchants—they always seemed so rigid, their hate only overshadowed by unrestrained ambition. Perhaps, Lai’Seili considered for the first time in her life, the elves projected some form of negative energy as well.
“Here...” She placed a small leather bag on the table and pushed it toward Lord Jarailo, who accepted it and opened it. Several elven-refined portents gleamed within.
“And this?”
“For all the risks you take with your life.”
“Thank you, Lai’Seili Fylso Lynya. I’ll get you the information you seek.”
“I expect nothing less.”
*
“Is this all your cargo for today,” Captain Dinea Fylse glanced over the documents, “Ferd’inan Sil?”
The half-elf in question smiled.
Captain Dinea Fylse observed Ferd’inan’s conspicuously white teeth beneath his veil of charm. “Are you mocking me? You know I could—”
“Captain Fylse, I’ve passed through this gate more times than I can count— you already know my name,” remarked Ferd’inan.
“And I still need to check, but your attitude isn’t helping.”
He chuckled lightly, aware he was treading dangerous ground. “Captain.”
“What?” replied Dinea, flustered. Her interactions with this not-that-bad-looking half-elf had stirred up strange and unfamiliar emotions, ones she found challenging to contain or control.
“Can I address you by your name, no titles attached?”
“What? No! Why?!” she replied instinctively.
“Because it’s a beautiful name, and it’s a beautiful day...” He gazed outside Silifran’s main gate, where the bright sun shone with no clouds in sight.
With a serious expression, she awaited what she thought would come next.
“So, what do you say?”
“I’ll... allow it— just for today.”
“Dinea Fylse,” said Ferd’inan. Those words on his lips sounded different, echoing in her mind. “The name suits you.”
“You mean?”
“A pretty name for an even prettier female.”
“Why, you...” Her cheeks blushed despite her agitated countenance. “Now that you’ve said my name, I won’t forget yours.”
“I’d like that.”
“Of course you would. I’m an elf, and this means I’m acknowledging you.”
“Why’s everything so complicated with your kind? I’m simply suggesting we can be friends.”
That word shook her thoughts. “Me? Friends with you?” she nervously scoffed at his words.
“Would that be so terrible?”
She looked around, her soldiers attending to other carriages. They were alone.
“But... but no special considerations, we just... talk.”
“Just talk, Dinea.”
This time, the captain refrained from inspecting the goods. The barrels, brimming with dusts, weapons, spells and anything Ferd’inan could cram in, found their way into the hands of Silifran’s criminal class. It had taken him long enough to gain the captain’s favor, but now he could smuggle without hiccups.
The half-elf had never interacted with an elven female in this manner, but he soon discovered that elven females shared commonalities with females of other races. The greater differences lay on their own cultural background.
Overall, business promised to be good, even great; he simply needed to maintain his composure, exercise restraint to establish rapport with the captain, and then, glory would follow.
*
Lord Jarailo ventured into the Human United Front several days later. This time, he crossed the human border through Saint Jaulea, the closest human city to Silifran, through which most commerce flowed, especially goods originating from the borderless region and the elven lands. Months after the rebellion that had besieged the city, signs of reconstruction still marked Saint Jaulea.
With reinforced outer walls, new sentry towers, and a recently implemented barrier system still undergoing testing, the humans had ample time to devise a more comprehensive security apparatus. Funded by affluent aristocratic donors and the acting governing body, these constructions revitalized the city, which had suffered disrupted commerce and scarce visitors in the weeks following the rebellion.
One of the significant shifts occurred regarding the treatment of slaves. Following an initial wave of executions, torture and interrogations, negotiations and ransoms payments ensued. However, heightened tensions between humans and other races, particularly the elves, prompted orders from the central governing body to temper the harsh treatment of the slaves. Consequently, a law was enacted. Firstly, elven slaves were prohibited. Secondly, all other slaves could only be held as such for one year, after which they were to be relegated to a status akin to third-rate citizens within the HUF. This applied to all races except the dregs.
This change was unwelcome in all border cities, especially places like Saint Jaulea, where the populace had grown accustomed to slave labor and other services extracted from slaves by humans. Those familiar with the inner workings of the HUF’s center of power understood that this shift carried political undertones more than anything else. War brewed on the HUF’s western borders, a conflict against the myriad dregs inhabiting those frontiers.
The dregadas sprawled over fertile lands and vast mineral deposits, particularly portents. Since humans lacked the magical prowess of the elves, they sought to compensate for this disparity with magical items and spells, which could only be imbued with extraneous properties through sorcery and the use of portents. The HUF’s expansion westward came as no surprise, and while the dregs lacked grand strategies or unified leadership, their sheer numbers posed significant challenges for any potential invasion.
This reasoning led the humans to give the other races a reprieve and, with the changes in slave laws, a gesture of good will, as the HUF couldn’t afford another open front—not with the elves or anyone else, at least not until they had the dregadas under their control. Despite their savagery, the dregs had their limited uses. The most intelligent among them could be employed as slaves, albeit not with the same level of utility as the other races, but still manageable for basic labor.
Considering this political climate, Lord Jarailo wandered the muddy streets of Saint Jaulea. The rains drenched the dirt roads, yet facilitated his work by keeping most people indoors, secluded in their homes. His usually composed demeanor betrayed signs of nervousness. It had been many moons since he had been among his kind in Saint Jaulea, and in these times, the trigger-happy humans unsettled both enemies and allies.
Setting the groundwork, the initial steps into Saint Jaulea wouldn’t be easy; the greatest challenge lay in locating the right individuals in the right places. Nevertheless, the Lord smiled, knowing that, for good and evil, finding these individuals came to him as a gift.
He also arrived with a carriage full of dusts, aiming to infiltrate Saint Jaulea’s underground in particular and human lands in general. Lord Jarailo met with his contacts in the Saints, the human criminal faction running most of the operations on this side of the border. The usual negotiations followed, and after sampling the product, gold and other items exchanged hands. The human Lord needed all he could acquire, not to arm an army, but something close to it. Here, he could also replenish those items and reagents unavailable in the Elven Kingdom. It was a good trip, given the proximity to Silifran and other elven cities.
Initially, the Lord doubted he could cross as easily as he was told, but he soon discovered it was even easier to cross here than in the Elven Kingdom. Being a human and possessing documents stating his Lordship helped, as did several gold coins. Though he worked quickly, he had to complete the trip in just half a day and return to the wilderness, to the places he liked best—the mysterious region in between borders—just in time to continue with a plan hatched together with some strange creatures—strange in the head—in some godforsaken ruins inhabited by some god-awful dregs.