As a Cursed elf, one born with no magic, Edwyr has been forced to live among humans for over ten years. He doesn't mind his job of defending the town that he now lives in from beast attacks, and he gets along with most of the humans well enough, but...
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Despite being eager to get moving again, Feyrith took the time to help a few people with minor ailments before they left—notably healing someone's waning eyesight. He still wasn't sure how this all made him feel, though, because while he liked helping, it always bothered him to see how many problems there were, and how little they were being dealt with. There were simply not enough elves to help everyone, which was true, but now that he thought about it more, most elves aimed to ascend ranks rather than use their magic to help humans.
And much to his regret, Feyrith had been no different before coming here.
He'd not even truly realized before then that quite a few elves never even left their island, and when they did, they tended to treat assisting humanity as nothing more than a secondary objective. After all, Feyrith wasn't here to help—he'd come here to investigate a ruin. He wouldn't have healed all of the people he already had if he hadn't volunteered for this mission.
There were more elves on the southern coast of the mainland, but that didn't mean the people in the west didn't deserve the same treatment. Feyrith would have to decide what he was going to do once this mission was done, it seemed. The Council would likely let him stay and help the humans, at least for a while, but it would mean putting off his studies as it wouldn't be safe to try and master dangerous magic in an uncontrolled environment. Not to mention that he would not be allowed to bring all of the books he would need with him, as the risk of losing or damaging them would be too great.
Would he be able to make more of a difference by being here with the humans, or by continuing where he'd left off, trying to become a member of the Council? Feyrith would have to seriously ponder this.
And he would also need to ponder the strange conversation he'd had with Edwyr only a few hours earlier. It had been incredibly odd, and Feyrith still wasn't sure what to make of it, but at least Edwyr didn't seem as hostile towards him anymore. That had been a tremendous relief for Feyrith, as the ever-present tension whenever their eyes had met was now much more bearable.
Still, Feyrith was confused, and he hated how often he had felt that way since he'd come here. Life had made sense on Aendor—Feyrith had never needed to question much and understood most things he needed to know—and now all that he thought about were questions. It was both novel and exhausting.
As they left Mistglen, the sky was already full of dark clouds, with a very distant rumbling of thunder every so often following along, but no one argued with him about continuing their journey anyway. They would find somewhere to wait out a storm if they needed to, he thought to himself as they crossed the draw bridge back onto the cobbled path, slowly replaced by a dirt road.
Though this time it felt a bit different. They would be heading into the mountains now, and Feyrith had never read much about this region. For the most part, the continent of the mainland was flat, with most of it covered with the jungle. The thought of what might be hiding deep inside of it always managed to send a shiver down his spine, but the mountains made him feel a similar way.
