When I lose sight of my village, I reign in Moonarrow, slowing her from a gallop to a fast paced trot. I want to get away as fast as possible, but there's no reason not to enjoy the way.
I have never been to the Town on my own, not left my village since my mother's gone. It was quite a busy time, organizing my life alone, getting a job. And on the other hand nothing much has happened in those two years. The village has that effect. Giving you the impression of being busy while letting your days go by without an actual purpose.
The sun rises high in the sky. I pull the hood of my father's -- my - cloak over my head to protect my pretty fair skin - I can practically feel the freckles on my face grow darker. I hate it when people call them cute.
I pass very few travellers on the road - no one really wants to go into our direction from the town - not much behind the village but mountains and mines. And crossing the mountains from here is an arduous tasks with no immediate reward - only the sea and blank spots on the map behind lay them. This here is pretty much the end of the world that only the most daring -- or crazy - adventurers would pass.
Literally the end, for those believing the priest, who preaches that the the sea falls over the edge of the world into the netherworld a few miles out. My mother taught me a different thing in the privacy of our home which she has learned before she settled in our small village. About planets rotating around the sun and other suns with worlds around them, worlds like ours. Somehow that always sounded way more fantastical and logical the same time. When I asked my father what he believed, he always just grunted and said he has more important worries than what shape the world might be. He was a smart man, but unlike my mother his focus was always on practical things around him, not the big question beyond those.
On this empty road, I have ample time to muse about the nature of this world I am about to explore. Will I ever come far enough and learn so much to find out if the priest or my mother were right? See the water fall from the edge of the world or get a chance to travel to the other side of it? All around it, maybe?
Eventually, my thoughts are interrupted when I spot someone at the horizon approaching me. As he gets nearer, my eyes stick to him. He too sits on a horse, his silver hair long over his shoulders, his clothes richly embroidered, his pale skin shines in the sunlight - an Elf. I swallow. Not exceedingly rare in these parts, but meeting two in two days on This side of the town is an notable coincidence. Almost a sign.
I cannot help but stare at the rider on the brown elegant horse, bridle and saddle embroidered with silver - worn off, though from long use -- the elves that end up in this neck of the woods are not the of the highest or most prestigious cast in elvish society, that much I have figured out from the rare encounters with them. My new friend very much included. I doubt his work as mercenary, adventurer and part time assassin was one he chose because it - or he - was well regarded at his homestead. Wherever that is.
This elf's eyes meet my gaze as soon as I look at him. Their sight sight is better, he must have seen and recognized me for what I am long before I did with him. So as soon as he is near enough to not have to shout, he raises his voice.
"Is there any particular reason you stare at me like I'm the Ice Bird of Tarnadio, human?"
I have no idea what he is referring too. Maybe Ill ask my friend later.
"I'm used to humans staring -- not that I can blame you in the presence of superior beings - but usually you have the decency to at least try and hide it. It's a miracle your mouth is not hanging open!"
"I am sorry, Sir. No offence meant. I'm just admiring your beauty. And the last elf I looked at like this was taking a shine to my openness."
He lets out a sigh.
"The last one? Are you making friends with a lot of my people here, human?"
The word human came out a little more disdainful than the first times, the whole sentence drenched in a sense of superiority and disbelieve of every word I say.
"Not many, Just one. But he's a pretty good friend."
I can hardly suppress a giggle.
"And what's that human loving elf's name, pray tell."
I blush. Bright red. Not knowing his name will not lend much credibility to my claim of being friend with an elf. Let alone having spent the night with him.
"I -- may not be at liberty to tell, sir. After all..."
I try to get into my counterpart's mindset. Which feels a little bit sleazy. You may get a bad impression of elves judging them by the first encounters with them you can have in these part of the world. I do remember my father telling me that they're not as bad as most people here believe, a claim my mother used to repeat to me after he was gone. Now that I got to know one closer -- they were probably right. Maybe the elves who feel forced to come here, live among mostly human communities are just - a little bitter. Well. Most.
"After all, he probably wouldn't want to be known he consorts with humans. Would you?"
He now chuckles a little. Coldly.
"I wouldn't get involved with a - human in the first place, but if I did... Yes, I certainly wouldn't want that one to brag about knowing me. How exactly do I have to imagine your -- fraternization with one of my kind?"
I open my mouth, but again can feel my face turn red and his eyes widen. They are really good at reading body language, it is said. That I can confirm from last night.
"Ah. I see. I have heard of perverted amusements of some of mine with some of - you. Not that I believe a word you say, human. Well, I certainly wouldn't want That to be known. Distasteful!"
"I beg your pardon?"
"I can imagine it is the highlight of a human's petty life to bedded by an elf but we do not condone such things in civilized elven society. But I guess in these backwater one doesn't have much... choice."
