The northern waters are cool and windy.
A refreshing ocean wind blows the waves, under the cloudy and grey evening sky.
A large and sturdy trading boat, looking like an odd mix of Arab with a touch of Roman, and African imagery on it, comes to rest in a port. Simple yet sturdy wooden planks form it, as light skinned men smile and approach, meeting men in turbans and their chins covered by masks of cloth. Only their eyes and the almost jet black skin of their faces and noses peeking out. They shake hands, each speaking something the other would understand. Trade is the source of the long visit. Money is to be made in mass amounts by entrepreneurs and business savvy fellows good with coin and predicting human wants.
The burning copper and iron lanterns of the Moors, Tauregs they call their group, look gorgeously designed. The smiling dock owner shows off his silver tooth and good loop earrings, a symbol of his clan's wealth. They shake hands and make friendly, no hostilities existent.
But as the last of mankind yawns and ambles off the boat, his silky "genie shoes" smish-smishing away into the dark... bright red eyes glow in the shadows of the moored Moor vessel. Large, red eyes that shine with a mischevious intellect.
Despite their glow, they don't look evil. Or frightening. But large and babyish. In the darkness, a creature almost resembling a 2 foot tall Vervet monkey slinks off the boat, silently landing on the wooden dock boards. His ears are like a jackal's, only hairless. All his teeth are tiny and sharp. His fur is sandy brown, the color of savannah grass. His feet are hairless, pale and humanlike. His face is human-like, yet grey skinned. His eyebrows, sandy-white. A barely-existent beard extends from his throat to just under his chin, making one unsure if it's just fur, or actual facial hair.
His large hands, dark grey with white claws, silently touch down to the wooden dock boards, as he silently oozes to the hard, green land.
Everything smells strange. Different.
It's cold. WET.
CLOUDY.
nZiki blinks his bright red eyes hard. The dark is nothing to him. His father, who had more in common with a gibbon that had gremlin ears, barred him to ever lurk among men. Only the uMenzis, or magic smiths, could do that. At only a mere 33, he was still too young, just into his true adult years.
His feet touched the green, cool, mossy ground. WHAT? His little sharp teeth flashed in the starlight, as he grimaced at the sponginess of the moss and green moll. He snuck onto the ships of the men who wear turbans and cover their almost jet black faces in cloths. And in all the trips he's taken hiding on their ship, he's never seen this before.
"mmgggrrrrrrrrrrr.." wisps behind him. He hears massive thumps bump the wooden dock. His ears skint back in fear, as he slowly turns.
One of the biggest dogs he's ever seen in his life is eyeing him. The largest he's seen is the wild dogs. And as far as dog SHAPED, the hyenas. But they're more like giant mongooses rather than dogs. But this? This big, ugly, flat faced, floppy skinned monster must be 200 pounds. Easy. Thick slops of drool ooze down the mastiff's jaws, as his hair rises on his back and he begins a speeding-up trot.
nZiki's big, grey feet crush into the spongey land as he flurries away up the green, steep hill. The huge dog loudly barks up a commotion, running up the dock and trying to bound his way up the steep green molls. The quick little sprite dashes out of sight, by the time men burst out, screaming in their strange tongue and jerking the dog by a leather collar as he furiously barks and drags a man up the hill.
nZiki runs. And jumps. And flips. And mini-teleports. The last thing he saw was that monstrosity of mankind's breeding charging up the hill, dragging his screaming, bearded owner with him.
After so much of his parkour-magic acrobatics and athletics, he flops down behind a tree in a forest. His grey hands with white claws clutch his chest, as he heaves from the run. The air is deathly quiet, minus the sound of crickets, owls, and frogs. He laughs to himself, his voice is deep and smooth. His tiny sharp teeth showing his thick-lipped smile.
"Ach! Yer mighty spry!" echoes a jesting female voice from the dark.
His big, red, puppy-like eyes flash open. They scan the night, better than almost anything's eyes for seeing what's in the dark. Even better than those shark-mouthed vampires, those damn obayifo.
Nothing.
"Up here!"
He looks up, seeing what looks like a human woman, not much smaller than he is, floating in mid air. She seems to glow ever slightly. She looked to be human, light-skinned like the humans he saw that owned the docks. nZiki never paid much attention to the different styles of human. They're like parakeets: all the same thing. He just knew, you have to be careful. They can wield magics too, or commune with the celestials as easy as focusing and speaking. That's a lot of power for creatures so stupid. Strange, though. This girl definitely isn't human, he can hear and feel it. But she looks so human. Her eyes glow green. Her long and wispy blonde and red hair is parted down the middle of her scalp, floating down her back and the sides of her face. She is naked, minus a cloak that seems to be from the pale plant skin of a leaf, or flower pedal. Her finger and toe nails are white and glisten like diamonds.
She floats down, sitting on top of a large red toadstool with white spots. Big as a human's footrest for 2 feet. Despite her size, she reminds him of a human woman in her 20's. Well, where he comes from, human women who look 20 could easily be 40. She sits her naked, pale cheeks on the stool. They are smooth and plump. Her arms and legs look perfectly smooth, but if your vision is as good as an owl's, you can see they are covered in fine, reflective hair. The bush between her legs has more in common with an oyster's inner shell, reflecting light to glimmer in weird colors. Her ears are round and small, perfectly human. Minus the invisible tuft of hair on the top tips of them. Only in the right light, can you see them. Like hair made from glass.
She sits with her legs pressed together. One elbow on her knee, and her chin resting on her fist. She smiles her charming, thin pink lips at him, fluttering her incandescent eyelashes.
"What's yer name? You're too hchandsome to be a trow. Are ye one of those trolls I've heard uh?"
She's so forward. nZiki isn't used to this. Where he's from, even the sprite females were shy and quiet, like the human ones. Never speaking first, always quiet and shy, or only showing their interest by blushing and peeking from beneath giggling eyelashes. Giggling at everything you say. Low voices. But this girl? She speaks boldly. To the point.
"Miss, tell me yours, and I will tell you what I am called."
"Heh! A trickster, are yeh?"
Everyone knew the tokoloshes were tricksters. It's part of their charm. And their horror...
"If I tell yeh my name, then ye won't gimme yours. But gimme a list ah nicknames, flip-flopped titles, or the sound animals make when they see people. Maybe somethin' not even YOU at all, but names for things like you. OR you'll just give me a rchiddle, where you give me a list of descriptive names for a certain thing and I gotta answer what that thing is. Am I right?"
Damn.
His thick grey lips part in a sharp-toothed smile as he laughs to himself. She got him.
And just out naked with it too. Not even trying to verbally joust, or challenge him with a reversal, or an ill-fated bet.
nZiki leans back against the tree trunk, his furry and small-muscled yet muscular shoulders relaxing. His human-like face arches a light sand-colored eyebrow, as his big ears perk up at her. He rubs at the yellow-grass colored thin smooth hair at his chin.
"I guess I can not trick you?"
"Maybe yeh can..." she winks, "...but tricking faye is no easy task. Even fer other fair folk."
"Fair folk?"
"Aye, you know. People like me, like you. Like us. Fair folk. Faerys. Sprytes."
"Ohhh! You mean intwazana yentsomi?"
".........yehhhssssss......??"
"Madam, it is very lovely to make your acquaintance."
She bows her head in response, revealing her slightly glowing and blushing cleavage. She has a body like a painting of Venus, yet smoother.
"And likewise teh ye, male-traveller. I am Gwrythmid."
"And so, you are." he smiles a cocky grin.
She giggles, covering her mouth with one hand and wagging her finger at him with the other. "It's most unwise to not show kindness to a faye, or reciprocate their manners."
