Not everything is Dark and Light

The Horror at Smitloft (part 2)

It had been surprisingly easy to get a farmer on the outskirts of the market was selling a few of his older horses off. The three that were still available to buy were all past their prime and could not pull their own weight of the plough so the farmer, a large man with a love of chewing tobacco and alcohol, had decided best try make a few extra coin off them. Vuren had negotiated the price as he was always want to do and took the horse for a respectable rate wagering the farmer the fact they were older meant they were in standing of taking less coin. The farmer agreed after some debate and took Vuren’s money which he greedily eyed up before stuffing into his pouch.

The horse in question was a mare who was chestnut in colour save for a spot a white fur that had developed on her left thigh. Vuren thought little of it and inspected her other features to make sure he was getting good value for money. Her eyes were all still clear with no hints of cataract forming and her legs, while a little thin, were still sturdy and would keep strong for the few days she was needed.

Vuren had also bargained the farmer out of a saddle and stirrup which he was happy to part with as it meant more coin for him. The leather was worn with it being somewhat faded in the centre where the rider made the most contact. The main shape however was still firm and had years of life still in it so Vuren took it but at a negotiated price.

As Vuren walked back to where he had tied Agro up earlier he thought about how he had blanked Nifeerein. He knew his feelings would never be reciprocated but it still bothered him how awkward and foolish he had made it all look. He was here as her hired help but Vuren could not stop to shake the feeling that he had saved her from the light elves because of his attraction to her. If she had been anyone else or looked like anyone else Vuren was unsure if he would have stepped in. He told himself it was because she was a queen and nothing more as her survival was of paramount importance to her species and the ongoing war but Vuren knew in his heart that it was somewhat tainted. He wanted to believe in his own pragmatism but he was unsure if it truly was or if his attraction to her played a part in it.

Vuren slowly made his way though the village allowing the residents to pass him by as he listened to their aimless conversations. It was something Vuren enjoyed doing from time to time as he thought about how he would also have these conversations if his life had gone down a different path. If he had not been born a demigod. If he had not been forced to the school. If he had not been trained to be a monster hunter. If he had just been allowed a chance to be a normal farmhand with his sister and mother in some obscure village no one cared for nor disturbed. Vuren pondered on this topic for a moment silently wishing his life could have been that simple before the sight of two large light elves broke his concentration.

The two elves in question Vuren recognised immediately as the two bears that stood beside Agro outside the inn. He looked at them and checked for bruises from their previous encounter and saw the tell-tale signs of a hobble in one of the elves while the other occasionally clutched at his rib. Vuren could see some bandages poking our from underneath his clothing and swallowed a load of saliva as he knew if they saw him he would be done for.

Swiftly and subtly manoeuvring his way to the opposite side of his newly acquired horse, whose name he had not saw fit to learn, he kept his head down as the light elf pair passed him by. The two scanned the market for Nifeerein and Vuren and as they did Vuren peeked up from over his horse to see their faces. He saw one had a black eye which contracted his light skin immensely making it look far worse than it truly was while the other had large pores all over his face, the scars from childhood chicken pox.

The two however bore a self-inflicted scar on their forehead the same one Vuren had seen on all the other light elves in Jult’s company. Catching a brief glimpse it in the light before averting his head in fear of being seen Vuren was finally able to understand what it was depicting.

In every culture there are mythical hero who transcend death and become figure remembered for generations. In light elf culture one of these figures is a man named Ditum. Ditum was according to the myths a hero to the light elves and the first man who realised their superiority over the dark elves. He took his people to their homeland and ensured that no dark elf was welcome in their kingdom. He was the started of the great war and a man most looked up to a true hero. The times were changing however and light elf culture had waned on Ditum over the years and with the implementation of peace, however hesitant it may be, Ditum and his legends were beginning to fade from consciousness. Vuren read about Ditum and his tale in an oversized book he read as it seemed more interesting that the lexicon of alchemical studied he was supposed to read. His story was framed as heroic and when Vuren read it he certainly thought that but he waned on it like the light elf masses once he travelled to Ishimori and Abavuki and saw the devastation of war. For the light elves to engrave this on their forehead showed a level of dedication to their cause unheard of and Vuren knew they would not back down for any reason. These were people so engrained in their old beliefs they would kill for them and Vuren had just led Nifeerein straight to them.

Keeping his head down and blending into the crowd Vuren walked on to get to Agro praying that both Nifeerein would be there and no light elves had spotted her already. The two bears continued on past Vuren not noticing him as they went over the outskirts of where he once was. Vuren breathed a sigh of relief when they past but was hit by another shock when another light elf was casually leaning on a wall not two paces away from Agro. Agro, every scattered brained when not needed, paid to attention to the light elf and instead had her head buried in a bucket of water positioned nearby. The light elf watcher looked out on the market while every ten or so seconds whipping her heard round to check Agro was still in place. She was and had no intention of moving. Vuren did however and hurried out of her line of sight as quickly by discreetly as he could. Vuren felt the walls close in around him and frantically scanned the horizon for Nifeerein praying the casual stance of the light elf watcher meant they had not found her yet.

His logic paid off and he was instantly relieved as he could sight of her smooth black hair from a distance as she make her way through the market. Vuren reverted back to horror however when he saw Nifeerein casually conversing with a young woman as she made her way round multiple different market stores with no attempt to check her surroundings for any threat. Vuren cursed as he knew not the best course of action but had to get her out of the village in record time. Panicking he took his newly acquired horse with him as he marched forward to the flea market desperate to get her out of there. Nifeerein however remained unaware of his or anyone else’s presence and continued her conversation with the young maiden as respectfully as she already had been.