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What Raine remembered most from waking up that morning was the taste of mana in the air; so light and weak.
“We didn’t sleep much when we traveled, did we?” Genis would ask her sometimes. He’d mutter a spell of flames to put the kindling on the stove to work. Shortly afterwards, there was a scent of spices, topped with freshly cut onions and peppers and parsley, to accompany the buttery rice that Raine held in her own dinner bowl.
“No. You cried every night. Quite a task for a young girl to keep you silent from the wolves, but we managed.” She poked the rice with her fork, ideas of exotic recipes surfacing in her mind. Surely, with rice so soft and fluffy, adding a bit of texture – perhaps of the gravelly kind – would bring about a new dish that people would appreciate. Something to keep in mind when she experimented tomorrow.
Genis was quiet for a moment, taste-testing their meal with a sip from the wooden spoon. “I don’t remember much from that.” He paused. “I’m sorry I was a lot of trouble.”
“You don’t need to apologize, Genis. I’ve already told you.” She took a bite from the rice, appreciating the lush flavors on her tongue, already forgetting her need to improve upon it. “We managed, and now we’re here.”
However, it had not always been that easy.
.
.
.
“An abomination,” one lady had whispered, shutting her door to the starving children. It had not been said as an aside, or as a floating thought that was not meant to be heard by any passerby. It was the words of one filled with utter conviction, whispered like a warding spell that would keep terrible demons at bay. Such words had been thrown at Raine right at her feet, circling around her like a ring of stones, keeping her imprisoned from the rest of the world.
That night once again, Genis had cried.
“It’s okay. It’s alright.” With small hands, the young girl brought forth what little mana she could, inducing calm, wrapped in feathers and cotton, around her baby brother. The patch of the forest they resided in for the night was so dark, and she had thought for sure she had heard the soft sound of padded feet from only a few feet away. Still, even with the world’s lack of mana, she could coax out enough to work her spells. Strange adults had wanted her for her magic, her mother once said. And back home, there was no escaping them.
So she and Genis had left home, suddenly and viciously. When she had woken up, all she could recall was the taste of mana in the air; so light and weak.
Genis’ cries lessened, and he sunk in deeper in his tattered blanket. Yet as he slept, Raine felt tears leave her eyes. She held her only family close, hoping for the sun to rise as soon as possible. There was the village far-off ahead of her, rooftops coated in silver light, thick smoke from the hearths rising into the air. The door that had been shut to her was hidden by the rise of the hill, its doorknob still twisted off its clasp of poor workmanship, its sole-window still stained from age and wear.
It was not a sight she could forget, no matter how much she slept, or dreamed, or wished.
This house was different.
A trek down well-worn dirt paths led both half-elves to the work of a master craftsman. The ivy crawled up the eaves of the home, hanging from it like a tapestry of rich green. It even clung through the slim openings between the wooden planks of the front door, yet not in the ways of an invader. Soft light peered out through several windows on the ground floor, highlighting the potted plants outside. For decoration? No. Raine looked closer and saw they were plants of a medicinal nature, for treating scrapes and wounds if a doctor was nowhere nearby.
They were not nearby anything, except for this large house placed on private land, seeming so warm and inviting in the night.
“Sis?” Genis tugged on her arm. He already spoke clear and well for a child of four. She said nothing, instead fixing his long, silver hair to hide the sharp points of his ear. An uncanny eye could notice the details; the soft hint of bluntness around that point, indicating a weaker link to the blood of those elves, secreting themselves away into forests beyond human knowledge.
They smelled food. It was too hard to ignore.
“Let me talk,” she told him. At fifteen, she could pull off a maturity that most adults found charming – until she let her tone carry her away into rudeness. But she had learned how to make due in their passage, living off the roads and a few strangers’ kindness. It had not felt right to her to impose herself on that caravan, despite their zoological ambitions. She had immersed herself in their self-written academic texts for so long, but could not give much else back – they were only traveling bags, her clothes, and the precious papers in her pocket. Besides, wandering the world had become the norm.
Wrapped in traveling cloaks that she had bartered for in the fishing town of Izoold, both Raine and and Genis passed stores of barrels – more food supplies perhaps, arranged by an owner who knew the importance of sustainability – and made their way to the door. Off to the right, she could see a stable, and hear the soft huffing of a creature. The moonlight reflected off its eyes, yet it did not growl or come forward like most guard animals. Instead, a little whine left its throat, and it retreated further back into its stable.
Raine knocked on the door. What next she noticed – and stored away for future reference – were the heavy footsteps beyond that door, like a boulder that had suddenly sprouted two feet.
The door opened. Her eyes instantly latched onto the cooking pot to the left of an open room, the ladle having been left within its contents as steam rose. Once she focused in front of her, she was thrown off guard once she saw that the house owner only barely reached her height. “Ah, don’t get many strangers at this time of night.”
Raine knew him to be a dwarf, though she had never seen one before. She had read about them in old books that the kindly historian had once let her borrow. The information in such books had been scarce still. Recalling what little she knew, she inclined her head slightly, yet forgone the female dwarven greeting of arranging one’s long braids before her neck – a gesture of openness, that no secrets shall be kept. All the more fitting, she thought. Her hair was short anyway, and her secrets were as long and as hidden as the lower-most roots of the great everwoods.
“Good evening. I beg of you a favor to show me the way,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “Me and my brother are trying to find the path leading towards, Iselia, the village of oracles. The forest has been confusing our senses, and so we have gotten lost.”
Her request finished, Raine stood before the dwarf, unnerved that she had to look down to meet the other’s eyes. She had only ever had to meet such an angle with Genis.
“My, how well-spoken you are, lass! Though if ye want to be more convincing, I’d suggest keeping your eyes rooted to me instead of my dinner!”
Raine could feel the flush rising to her cheeks. She shook it away, hoping it would not highlight the ears she kept hidden beneath the careful arrangement of her hair. “That’s – I apologize. I did not mean to impose. I really am only looking for directions to Iselia.”
“Yet how can you travel on an empty stomach? My forge is still shaping my latest work, and the ringing of my hammer still sits in my ears. Even through all that, I can hear both of your stomachs growling like a mangy wolf searching for his next meal!”
Raine’s voice died instantly. Even through all her travels, she had not met anyone quite like this dwarf – one that caught onto her mind, and who met it straight on with a wide smile. Genis was staring, eyes open and curious, holding tight to her hand while he shifted on tired feet.
“I…” she stopped, then started again. “I do not wish to impose.”
The dwarf waved away her concerns. “Nonsense, lass. I was only cooking some leftovers for myself. My boy ate the last batch all by himself, and now he’s out like a light.” He laughed at that, and there was a genuine happiness there that Raine instantly envied. “You are free to rest yourselves and have a bite or two. I’ve always made it my business to have my home open to weary travelers – though I guess that is so because most of my clients are travelers – traveling to meet with me that is!”
Raine put the information together. She had examined what she could see of the home; the forge that was near the stove, the bundles of swords that lay wrapped in cloth, hanging within a metal basket on the floor. Dwarves were the original metalsmiths of the world, after all.
“The name’s Dirk, by the way. Like the weapon, though I am not as deadly as one! Ya don’t need to give your names if you wish to keep them a secret, but my food is available to the nameless.” He gestured, leaving the door open. So trusting he was. Was it because he was not human? “Come, before you catch more colds than ye already have!”
Genis sniffled at the comment, then did a great sneeze that made Raine flinch. “Sorry,” the child spoke, eyes wandering to that cooking pot.
Raine swallowed.
“I don’t want to impose.” She shook her head. “I must… speak with the priests at Iselia. I have a recommendation.” A secret revealed without her meaning to. She refrained herself from petting the pocket where that paper was kept, scrawled by the kind historian’s writing. “Please. Just show me the way and we will leave you alone.”
She ignored Genis’ sad eyes, tried to brush past the dwarf’s look of slight confusion. She could not let herself stay long here, nor at Iselia, nor anywhere. She would learn, she would adapt, and then she would leave with her brother in tow. Never long enough for one to be curious about their heritage, to question why full-blooded elves would stray so far from their hidden homes.
Dirk seemed to have not heard her then. Instead, he walked over to the cooking pot, reaching out for bowls that were placed conveniently near a work table. Raine was speechless as he proceeded to serve the still simmering food, even going so far as to tear off a loaf of bread that was sitting within a woven basket.
He came back to the door, two bowls complete with utensils in each hand, bread crusts dipped into a concoction of spices, of onions, of peppers and parsley. The ingredients were swimming in sauces steeped from well-tenderized meats, the kind that were probably imported from a butcher’s market. He handed one of them to her.
“For your travels. I can vouch that they will do your empty stomachs good.”
There were suspicions; it would not be the first time a stranger had tried to poison her or her brother, their hatred for half-elves running deep. But none of the tell-tale shiftiness was in the dwarf’s eyes. She took one bowl, and let Dirk hand the other to her brother.
“I will not ask you to stay in my home if you do not wish. But I will say the glade beyond the stream is safe, and a good campsite. No beasts of the night will come near, that I can promise you.”
The dwarf spoke to her as if she were a ready-made friend. Even the kindly historian had taken time to show some hospitality.
“Once you go to Iselia, be sure to ask for Phaidra or Frank. Both she and her son-in-law are good people, and she has the kindliest granddaughter one ever did see. I’m sure that will make your recommendation go down easier, my friend.”
Raine felt warmth in her palms; from her brother’s ever-lasting grip, from the clay bowl she held delicately in one hand. “I hope to teach,” she confessed. “Just for a little while.”
Dirk smiled at her. “Those with brains are what’s sorely needed these days. I’m sure you can teach my son a thing or two!”
She wanted to ask him about his son, suddenly. But she only thanked him, leaving quickly with a stuttering Genis, who could only half-thank him back. The dwarf reassured her to keep the bowls, or leave them by the stream if she so wished.
Past that same stream with the moon shining high, both ate their fill of their meal, savoring the heat and taste, one that never left her through the years. When she woke up the next day, back no longer aching from its rest on the soft grass, with Genis curled next to her, the mana still tasted light and weak. But it was no longer so frightening.
“History seems to be Colette’s favorite subject,” Raine said, arranging her graded papers on her desk.
“Ah, yes. She always asks me or Frank to read a story from one of the Church’s tomes. She loves the tales of Spiritua so.”
Phaidra only rarely visited the schoolhouse, but a newly-arranged priestess took over her temple duties for the day. Raine had guided the old woman to a student’s seat that was just across from her. The imagery seemed a little absurd to her, privately. Here she was, a teacher of only eighteen years, speaking to an elderly, worldly woman in a desk where innocent but juvenile scribbles were drawn.
“Oh my, what a charming picture of a dog.” Phaidra traced one such scribble across the desk’s surface, admiring the detail of the tail specifically. “Is this Lloyd’s work?”
“Yes.” Raine sighed. Even making Lloyd sit at the front of the class could not get the boy to concentrate. “He had been drawing it for Colette.”
“How sweet of him! No wonder she was so happy today.” Phaidra chuckled, still holding onto her gnarled cane in her left hand.
“Anyway… Colette is doing well in all of her subjects. She also seems to be more open with speaking with others, mostly with Lloyd and Genis. Overall, she has been a wonderful student.”
Phaidra nodded before Raine even finished. The knowledge was nothing new, yet she had wanted to hear it from the elf herself. “It is all due to a wonderful teacher such as yourself.”
“Ah… I only gave her the tools. She used them well enough on her own.” The compliment did not sit with her well.
“You have a way with teaching, Raine. Perhaps it is an elven trait, but the village and its children have never been better, I can promise you that.”
Raine only nodded. She shuffled the papers around even more, the peppering of red marks adorning each one, some more than the other.
“I hope that one day you can accept that you have a family here.”
Raine looked up, eyes wide. The old woman only looked on her kindly, dressed in the robes of those who followed Martel, the embossed designs of her dress indicating her high status within the Church. Twin braids flowed past her ears, their shine contrasting the tan wrinkles that was her face.
The elf – half-elf, they will never accept you – swallowed. “Your words are kind, Phaidra.” But Genis is the only family I have.
Phaidra nodded once again. She then leaned upon the cane to stand up, her feet tottering on the hardwood floors. The setting sun reflected off her burnished hair, bringing to mind the young, golden-haired child that Raine could not help but smile at whenever she spoke with her brother. A smile tinged with strain, hoping that her sibling kept his own hair arranged just so, for eyes can be quick and suspicious.
They had already stayed here far too long.
“Then I hope that, at the very least, you can consider us all as your friends.” Phaidra was already at the door of the classroom, startling Raine from her brief daydream. “Colette already believes you are.”
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.
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In the morning, Raine woke to the taste of mana in the air; weaker and lighter than the days before.
Her classes would not start again for several days, a fact that gave the children joy, Lloyd most of all. Before she fully roused herself for a cup of coffee, she heard the familiar steps running up to her door, then a swift knocking.
“Genis!” Lloyd’s voice could travel through stone, unhindered, and still as clear as the sky. “Hey!”
Her little brother grumbled from his bed, silver hair in a tangle. She watched silently as he patted it down around his pointed ears – only enough to give his ears their shape if not their details. But few eyes were sharp around here, especially when a high priestess of the Church already gave her word that full-blooded elves would be joining their village. Only truth came from the Church of Martel and nothing but.
After an exchange of shouts between Lloyd and Genis, her brother finally opened the door. An excited human boy – almost as tall as she was – was shifting on his feet in excitement. The red jacket he wore was too blinding for her to deal with this morning. “Come on, already! We have to get to the beach before the day’s over!”
“Lloyd, I wish you would wake up this early for school,” Raine said, knowing such words would fall on deaf ears. Besides, Genis would do enough reprimanding in her place.
“It’s seven in the morning! We have plenty of time. And I need to prepare the sandwiches!”
“Yeah, but we gotta get the best seashells before someone takes them! I promised Colette I’d make her bracelet from the best ones down there!”
Genis shook his head. “I think she’ll like anything you find her from the beach. You could even get her some seaweed and she’d still think it was amazing.” Both continued teasing each other back and forth, silent on the fact that Colette could not join them past the village’s perimeters.
Raine knew as well, and only looked on as both her brother and his best friend left their home to enjoy their day.
I have been here too long.
She curled a lock of hair from her face, placing it behind her sharply-pointed ears – only blunt when you looked past, and when you didn’t trust the words of another.
It was too late. She had already made friends here, perhaps a family if she ever dared, yet that was a fragile concept that she dared not explore.
“Colette thinks of you as a dear friend,” Phaidra once again told her, visiting the young elven woman now aged at 23. Eight years she had stayed, longer than she ever meant to. “And as her friend, I must ask of you a favor.”
Raine set her mug back on the breakfast table. Graded papers met her eyes from the same place, the red marks on them a familiar pattern.
It had taken so long of her to find such friends. How cruel it truly was for her to lose one of them so soon.