Chapter 609: An Elf’s Tale, Part 1

“Here, please, wear this-quickly, if you would.”

A flutter of darkest red flitted towards Eshwlyn across the cramped expanse of the carriage, slowly descending and landing as a crimson cloak draped loosely over her outstretched hand.

She recognized the stitching, the embroideries sewn across the hems-what it signified-every night, forced to bear the wicked smiles beneath the crimson hood. At once, the feeling of deep loathing sharped her eyes, and had only her muscles and mind been her own, she would have had the scarlet robes in the tiniest shreds, stamped hard beneath the might of her foot.

Instead, as was implored her, Eshwlyn silently whipped the cloak around herself, letting its soft silk embrace her body whole. Wilvur smiled, pure raw fury blinding her of just how truly apologetic he looked at her.

“Understand, this is not out of simple wanton cruelty, but an absolute necessity,” He told her. “An unconverted Elf is strictly forbidden from walking human grounds. Obviously. And should anybody see you, even if in my close presence, well-I’d much rather avoid a confrontation if I can. The Churches aren’t too happy with me already, and rules are rules, aren’t they? But for you, for today, I feel perhaps an exception can be made just this once.”

The carriage then drew to a gradual halt. A faint whinny from the front declared the arrival of their destination.

“Oh, Eshwlyn. By the Divines, really- what am I truly to do with you?” Wilvur wearily sighed, trailing his word with a whirling grin, reaching out and swinging open the carriage door. “And your hood,” He added, waggling a warning finger over the sides of his head. “Refrain from moving them too much if you could, would you? See, us humans don’t normally have ears that twitch, or ones as long as the kind you inherit.”

.....

Most of the storm had already waned, and the hard earth had turned to soft grime shaping the muddied outlines of their footsteps as they began striding leisurely forward.

They have passed through the entrance of a dense, vast township. Eshwlyn immediately recognized the unmistakable signs of one from the many illustrations and descriptions from her studies-colossal, soaring structures of stone and wood spread far and wide, the heavy bustle of journeying carriages littering large roads paved in brick, and as well as-omitted from every one of her books-the putrid smell of humans hanging over the dark, misty air.

“Trail close, and please try not to wander too far,” He cautioned her, throwing a warm wave and smile at passersby wandering past, who in turn, heartily greeted him back. “It’s quite a big place here, and I would truly dread the prospect of having to scour for you through cramped, narrow alleys. Here, allow me to give you a quick lay of the land, come-rather much to see.”

Eshwlyn was only partly paying attention to the sharp turns they took, only briefly snapping her focus back when he turned to speak-much like the thick gray clouds swirling high above, her mind was fogged deeply with her increasingly dour thoughts. Surrounded every inch by the people that detest her, forcefully dragged along the streets by her captor; her cloak too was coated deeply with the pungent smell of blood, and couldn’t help but wonder just how deep the thick flow of red had soaked through the seams.

“I wonder, just how far does the extent of your knowledge reach?” Wilvur turned a slight glance at her again. “These busy streets, these looming buildings, surely such a place rife with commotion and disarray must be monitored and governed closely by someone important, yes? I wonder-can you take a guess?”

“No,” She lied, sheer spite burying deep the truth behind her narrowed lips.

“Ah, yes, surely not,” He nodded understandingly. “It was only recently declared, after all. I suppose no Chronicler had yet the chance to engrave it in history. But, to disappointingly answer my own question-yours truly has been appointed the Duke lording over this domain. And I daresay, I believe I’ve been doing an extraordinary job so far.”

Just then, another large crowd greeted them with wide smiles and pleasantries as they strode past. Wilvur gleefully reciprocated, muttering under a breath how sore his arm was getting from all the waving.

“His Majesty-ah, surely him you must know-yes, well, he believed an aspiring member of the noble House of Hendrick would prove quite the suitable candidate. And though, I admit, I do have my failings-I’m more than inclined to the suggestion that I’m indeed living up to His Majesty’s high standards, which I will diligently continue to do so as long as His Majesty will have me. He’s quite the hard man to please... King Ardvair, he...”

Something had abruptly stolen away his words, Eshwlyn only just then realizing with the sudden silence of splashing puddles. She lifted her gaze from the darkened slabs of stone, finding Wilvur standing stagnant and with eyes set on a high tower in the distance eclipsing all other buildings in the vicinity.

“Divines, it almost slipped past me,” He turned, facing Eshwlyn with a scrunched expression. “We’ll be heading for a slight detour, unfortunately. Duty calls-need to have a quick word with the town Magus up in her tower there. As you must know, every kingdom’s got one. It’s where the Magi resides. Unfortunate for me-makes it extraordinarily easy for her to avoid me whenever she wishes, which is always every time, funnily enough. Never saw eye-to-eye, me and her... hmm, perhaps I might just catch her this time. Eshwlyn, come.”

Another row of winding roads and sharp turns brought them closer to the looming spiral tower. As always, Eshwlyn kept her eyes to the ground, occasionally halting as Wlivur’s directions inadvertently stumbled them into brief, animated conversations with the townspeople. She kept away, playing recluse to the rowdy ambiance, silently wishing for the moment when this would finally all be over and done with.

Then, stopping once more, they arrived deep in the center of the town, and looming above all, sat the Magus’ tower, both heavily guarded and heavily fortified. Eshwlyn could sense a peculiar pressure in the air, a ring of magic encircling the gated entrance to the tower doors.

historical

“Now, then...” Wilvur sipped in a breath, scouring around with wary eyes. “Klingsley had mentioned before she can be often seen loitering about the tower courtyard around this time. If he’s to be believed, then-ah, yes, why, there she is! Finally. Ahem, Terra! Hey, veer your eyes here, I’m here, Terra! Yes, it’s me! Dreadful as it may seem! I’d like a word with you now if it’s not too much trouble!”

As Wilvur stalked off in haste through and beneath the stoned archway of the tower’s entryway, Eshwlyn stood rigidly in place, eyes unblinkingly, steadily forward.

In the distance, amidst a calming sway of flowers and grass, stood a familiar slender figure. A stream of black whipping directly towards them, hearing Wilvur’s calls, and right then, all her thoughts, all her questions that had roused had all been affirmed true, as a deep, calming set of ocean-blue eyes stared directly back at them both.

Immediately. Eshwlyn’s mind traveled back to a blossom of spring that felt oh so long ago now where she had first laid sight upon that kind, gentle gaze-and how so close, her blade had nearly extinguished the light in those eyes.

“Ah, yes, Lord Wilvur,” Terra spoke, slowly approaching the tower gates with forced politeness straining her face. “What a pleasant surprise, this is. Yes, truly, yes. Umm, right, you said something- a word you said?”

“Yes, a word... well more than a word, actually,” Eshwlyn heard Wilvur answer, unable to recall when exactly she had drawn herself at his side. “Very important. It’s lucky I’ve caught you. It’s to do with our previous discussion, you see, as you might recall, I’ve been meaning to expand upon it further with you.”

“Oh, that...” Terra pulled a face, a familiar look of dread that Eshwlyn was all too acquainted with. “Well, I’ve... I haven’t really given it much thought as of late, busy doing this and that, and whatnot, and really it’s also...”

“Hardly a topic to be discussing behind iron gates, most certainly,” Wilvur interjected, smiling at her through the thick bars separating them both. “I presume you will be inviting the both of us in soon? That way, at the very least, we can discuss this further in the comfort of chairs. We’ve been walking for quite a while, you see...”

Terra stared at him for a while, her gaze briefly falling onto Eshwlyn-they locked eyes, a second, a moment-before she broke away with the faintest hint of a glare on her face, not recalling, not recognizing the face beneath the shade of the red hood.

“Well?” He urged again. “Are you going to?”

“Ah... yes, well, actually you see, I... oh... very well, fine,” Her lips thinned to a narrow straight line. “Come in, come in,” with a flick of her fingers, the heavy bars shot upwards, the entrance now wide-open. “Make yourself at home.”

Eshwlyn swallowed.

Wilvur grinned.

“Thank you.”