Note: Still new to narrative works, so feedback is welcome but be kind! I may do readings of all the narratives I write in the future, so stay tuned!
The high elf moved into a poorly lit alley. He weaved his way through pushcarts selling items he'd never seen before and whose purpose were unknown to him.
He gave the vendors as wide a birth as he could in the limited space, trying not to make eye contact as he pushed past their patrons. He shrugged his cloak closer to him, pulling down his hood as he consulted a hand drawn map. Just up the alley and to the right there was a shop, indoors, unlike the street vendors. That was his destination.
He hastily pushed past more shoppers, some of which gave him dirty looks as he approached the marked location.
Finally, he saw the sign; "The Mirager". The purple letters were painted directly on to the adobe building in fancy calligraphy. He grabbed the small wooden handle of the door and hurried in, out of the bustle of the alley.
The shop was shockingly quiet compared to the commotion outside. The elf looked around the small space. Cards, wands, bells, and bottles were all cluttered onto packed shelves. Confusing paintings and colorful cloths covered the walls. Tassels hung from the low ceiling.
"Hello traveler." Said an inviting voice from behind a desk he hadn't originally noticed. "We don't get a lot of your kind around here." Her voice sounded curious, but sweet.
"My 'kind'?" the elf asked.
The woman behind the desk stood up. She was draped in red and gold exotic fabrics. They clung to her body gracefully, accentuating her hips as she moved from behind the desk toward the man.
"High elves, of course." She said, stepping close to him and removing his hood. "You couldn't possibly think this hood would hide it, could you?" she quipped gently.
His shoulders slumped. "I thought it might..." He said with a sigh.
The mirager laughed. "Sorry to burst your bubble" she said earnestly. "It's the way you walk. Easy to tell you come from a place far from here. One were you rarely need to watch your back."
"Well, I wouldn't say that. I'm a warrior, you know." He defended himself against the charismatic shop keep.
"Oh really?" she said, still standing just a few inches from him. "Do you have a name, warrior?"
Her closeness was disorienting. Not unpleasant by any stretch, but he was unsure if he should move.
"Eylin," He said. "And you?"
"My name's Ajaar, but most just call me the Mirager." She took a slight step back, nodding to the 'Mirager' sign above the cluttered desk.
Realizing he'd been holding his breath, Eylin released a sigh of air. He breathed in again and noticed the floral scent of the mirager. It was lovely, but different than anything he'd smelled before. A mixture of lavender and fresh citrus, with a hint of... nostalgia?
"Well, what brings you here noble warrior Eylin? Don't you know cavorting with us street urchins could damage your reputation?" She said lightly.
Raising an eyebrow at her wording he said "I'd hardly call you a street urchin, and this definitely isn't cavorting."
Ajaar laughed at this. "You certainly are buttoned up, huh?" she tossed a piece of draped fabric over her shoulder as she leaned on her desk, facing him.
"Fine. Cavorting or no, this isn't any place for a high elf, if you value your reputation," she said. "and I'm definitely a street urchin" She winked at him.
The elf's heart pitter pattered irregularly when the mirager winked, sending a little shock through his chest. He shook it off "Well I value tactical advantages far more than reputation." he stated.
"Hmm," The mirager leaned forward. The dangling fabrics revealed a distinct and appealing line of cleavage that Eylin's eyes fixated on for longer than he thought appropriate. He snapped his head too forcefully off her chest up to her face. She gave him an amused look as he did so, biting her lip to stop herself from laughing.
"So you think I can provide you a tactical advantage then?" She asked. Eylin was grateful for the return to the conversation. His thoughts had started drifting, maybe it was the heat of the desert messing with his concentration...
"I do. That is, if you're willing for forge a relic for the side of light..." he trailed off, the last words raised to form a question.
"Why wouldn't I be?" She questioned back.
The elf was caught off guard "well because... you work for..." he sputtered trying to phrase things least judgmentally. "Well, in the past you've worked for--" he was cut off by Ajaar's laughter.
"I work for money, Eylin. An independent contractor if you will. I don't have an alignment or a stake in your war. Us nomads won't be affected by your monarch's petty squabbles." She spoke casually but Eylin still felt defensive.
"F-forgive me, mirager, but they're hardly 'petty squabbles'. I- well everyone in my land really, will be deeply affected by the outcome of this war." He said.
"Mhmm. Where as I'll only be affected by not getting paid. So you see where our philosophies differ." The mirager smiled up at the elf.
"I certainly do," He retorted, his tone harsh "Mine aren't nearly so selfish." He spat, angry that he'd felt affection toward her just moments ago.
"Selfish?" Ajaar's tone tightened, but then released again, as if letting go of his rude comment. "Maybe I am selfish," She mused. "You should try it sometime."
"Being selfish?" he was confused by the change of direction the conversation had taken.
"Yeah, why not?" She looked into his eyes. "Though 'selfish' is such a dirty word. I'd call it... being true to oneself."
"Being true?" He looked at her quizzically.
"Yes. True to your wants, and needs. Giving into those... urges." She was speaking slowly. Annunciating every word. The high elf was fixated on her lips as she spoke. "I'm suuure there's things you want, elf. That you don't let yourself think about... maybe you should." She continued.
"Maybe I should..." the elf found himself moving towards her.
"Yeah... the feeling is... exhilarating" she said. "But who knows, maybe I'm biased."
Eylin snapped back to reality, stopping his feet from continuing forward. He shook his head. He felt like he had just emerged from a trance. He had difficulties remembering what she had said, he could only picture how her lips looked while she said it, so enticing... so-- focus! She said... she said she's biased?
"B-biased how?" he questioned. His voice felt foreign to him, suddenly out of place in the cluttered shop.
"Oh, right. You probably don't know." she ignored his stuttering. "As a mirager, I draw power from desire. I couldn't create fantastical images and alternate versions of reality without being highly connected with my own fantasies, now could I?" She walked behind him.
Eylin followed her movement with his head until she whispered into his ear "look forward." He obeyed.
Ajaar was so close to the elf he could feel her breath on his neck. She continued. "All mirages start from simple desires. A physical representation of what we yearn to see in real life." she spoke in hushed, seductive tones. Eylin's heartbeat quickened. "Want to see?" She placed her hand on his shoulder.
"Mmm," He meant to speak but her touch drew a gentle moan out of him.
"I'll take that as a yes." She said, sliding her hand from his shoulder up his neck. Caressing his jaw, all the way up to his temple. He focused on remembering to breathe. "Even an amateur mirager can insert a simple fantasy into a host's mind." as she said this, an series of images flashed through Eylin's mind. He saw himself with the mirager, slowly the images were moving the two of them together until they were embracing each other, locked in a passionate kiss.
A thrill ran down the elf's spine, he couldn't help the audible inhale he took as the last image flashed, one with the mirager's legs clasped around his waist as he lifted her. "W-wait, what are these!?" Eylin's voice was frightened. The mirager moved her hand from his temple and the images stopped. He whipped around to face her. "Were those my fantasies?" He asked, dazed and panicked that she saw into his mind somehow.
The mirager laughed "No, of course not. I don't know your fantasies... or I didn't." She chuckled again at his response. "They were mine. I apologize if they caught you off guard." She was sincere.
"N-no," Eylin said. "It's alright. I just... those were... um" He searched for the words in his mind, but just saw the images again. "They were... nice." He settled for the best word he could find.
