Not everything is Dark and Light

Beginning (part 1)

I

You know the part they never bring up in the heroic tales, Vuren sighs to himself. The journey back home.

Taking out the pack of wild Bloodworms had been more or less the same as any other mission Vuren had been sent on. Get told of an issue by Tahith, go to said location, murder a wild beast or two that was causing said issue then return home. It was somehow a mix of explosiveness and tedious all wrapped up with unappealing disclaimer that you would likely die before reaching retirement.  

It had been a long journey to get to the village of Smitloft but the issue was again the journey back. It was hours of green farmland and then the occasional snow dusted hill to break up the monotonous track back. It was almost a week and a half till Vuren reached the School and at the end of every night he silently cursed that Tahith still had not invented teleportation yet. It was something Vuren had been telling him to work on for a number of years but he had never managed to make any progress on it which lead to Vuren and Agro, his trusted mare, to spend an incalculable amount of time together silently traversing the lands of Ardon.

The travelling was not the worst part, to Vuren at least. The worst part was that he did not even get paid to do it. It was considered a social service and as such the King paid them directly but only at infrequent times and only for the most minimal amount. One would think that so vital a job would be given money by the bucket load to ensure success but the King seemed unwilling to give more than was necessary to keep the basic essentials stocked up. Vuren had never interacted with the King himself, never even seen him let alone be in the same room as him, but he had once or twice dealt with a royal advisor. The pompous ones as Vuren so often described them came dressed always in some form of purple or blue, the royal colours, almost as if to purposely clash with the discoloured browns and blacks Vuren and his company adored themselves with. Whenever they came knocking Vuren ensured they were swiftly taken by Tahith to discuss any matter as politics was not something Vuren was overtly interested in and he viewed anyone from or working for a monarchy as inherently political. He saw it as a boring and regressive as most of the higher-class people who walked the castle walls knew nothing of the struggles of those just outside them. They did not have to concern themselves with rationing out their water for a journey or worry about where their next meal was coming from yet they were the supposed leaders of countries and instructed countless faceless armies to charges against other nation all in the pursuit of control. They walked their hand and commanded many to their death in the bold-faced lie that was patriotism, telling everyone of their followers they were somehow better due to the placement of their birth. No politics was not something that interested Vuren. He preferred the lifestyle he had where his only allegiance was to his friends fellow hunters and the occasion kind stranger he crossed paths with. No kingdoms. No governments. No regimes. No one but him and the next objective. 

It was late afternoon and Vuren had been tracking the setting of the sun from the distance it sat above the mountains for what seemed like hours. He had had Agro ride all out for an hour or so earlier in the morning in an attempt to get back to the School sooner but allowed her to rest at a stream come lunch to regain her strength. After their lunch stop Vuren had allowed Agro to go at a more leisure trot for the rest of the afternoon and he could feel the dire pace eat him from the inside as the boredom of travel had become too much for Vuren. He flirted with the idea of leaving, never returning to the School and taking off in any direction and seeing where it took him and this daydream had him entertained since lunch but he was beginning to realise that this vagabond lifestyle would contain even more travelling he would rather jump into a viper pit then do that.

The afternoon burned on and the trail seemed to go on for more miles than Vuren anticipated. He was uncertain if it was just his boredom that make him view the road as more elongated that it truly was or if the road actually did stretch on for more miles than he could see. He picked the latter as the more likely option to keep his sanity in check and tried to think of anything that would keep his mind fresh but he kept hitting a brick wall. He already thought about every topic he possible count to death. From Connelly’s obsession with his looks to how weird it was the Skal stuck around or even to how annoyingly quick his sister married Tahith. He had thought about them all and more, what he would change about them, how he would have preferred things to go, if he could change things how would he do so, what would happen if orders of events differed and how he would react if they did, if he could change things would he like them in different way or would they be worse. The only thing he had not thought extensively on was Tahith and his sister’s s*x life and that was a rabbit hole he did not want to go down.

Vuren scratched the stubble under his chin and sighed as he leaned into Agro and clapped her twice on the side. It was an attempt to escape the isolation that his mind was creating for itself but it did not work and as soon as he leaned up he was back to having nothing to do. He was so skilled a horse-riding at this point that trotting down a well-maintained road only required a momentarily glance upwards ever few seconds to ensure Agro stayed on course but she was so well trained also she hardly ever did. This was a horse bred for combat and one that had faced off against countless monsters, beast and creatures of ill-intent and shrugged them off so a mere road was something trivial to her.

It was at times like these Vuren craved for the company of anyone. He often had Aaron by his side as it was typical to pair a sorcerer with a fighter it stand the best chance against threats but Aaron was, at least when Vuren last saw him, nursing a broken leg and several severe cuts after he and Vuren had a nasty encounter with Ammit. Aaron could, at the best of times, anger Vuren so much that he wished to cave his skull in and leave his body on the roadside for vultures to pick at but he was always company and that was something he desperately needed. Vuren smirked at all the terrible jokes Aaron had made in his lifetime and knew that if he were present he would be making the same kinds of awful jokes again. Vuren would never admit it to Aaron’s face but he was truly his best friend and despite the fact he could push all of Vuren’s button to the point where he wished he was not around some days Vuren still loved the i***t. 

The rest of the days ride was spent recalling old forgotten memories from Vuren and Aaron’s friendship. The time they had spent around one another had been incalculable so most memories faded into one messy whole. Vuren recalled the time Aaron had got high on an assortment of drugs and decided that he needed to fight a bear to prove his strength which ended in him sleeping in a tree after chasing some birds. Vuren remembered the hours he spent waiting outside a brothel for Aaron as he hired a p********e and stated he wanted to make good use of his time. Vuren remembered the time a wave hit Aaron when he had his back turned and he broke his nose on the rocks below as he fell. It was so true that Aaron was his best friend but it is something Vuren would never tell him.

As the last hour of the day drew in Vuren spotted a village on the horizon and a sense of calm washed over him. He had dreaded another night spent under the star or in a cave where some creature of ill intent could be sleeping nought twenty pace away hidden away under the cover of darkness. The village was a chance for true rest, for relaxation and a place where Agro could get a good meal as scavenging at the loose pieces of grass wherever the two came to rest was only going to sustain her for so long.

Vuren kicked Agro softly in the ribs and she understood immediately what it meant and she charged forward into a heartly gallop. No one was on the road and Vuren was more than confident in Agro’s ability that he let his mind drift off into pleasant thought of a pint of mead or a whole bowl of soup and not the scummy rations Vuren had to live off of. He smiled internally at the thought while his external features kept the stern look of stoicism he had learn to keep over years of travelling. It was a defence mechanism that meant most did not approach him and those that did were met with a firm and stony face that gave off the impression of disinterest in everything around. That look ensured most locals did not ask Vuren for help in any of their personal tasks and even if they did they were often chased off by a few stern looks and harsh words. In truth Vuren desired to help most of them, if they were legitimate, but he did not have the time to solve everyone’s problems. He needed to focus on the ones he could solve, that being the monsters that needed slaying. It was when he was trained to do and what he excelled at. It was all he knew at this point and anything else would seem alien.

As the village approached Vuren began to see the first signs of life as the light flickering of flames caught his eye. A local boy, seemingly only twelve or thirteen, was carrying a large lantern and was lighting several different lamps throughout the village centre. Vuren could see his dull expression and slumped shoulders as knew how badly he desired to be doing anything else. Vuren smiled to himself as he related to the boy but shook it off as he knew that even if one does not want to do something sometimes things must be done for the greater good.

Vuren drew back on the reigns of Agro as she slowed down as the village drew ever closer. Agro’s braking was, as with everything she was trained in, as steady and perfect as one could ask from a horse. She steadied into a light trot as the two approached the village entrance. Vuren surveyed the village itself and tried to locate a tavern where he could spent the night but one was not obvious to him at first. For the most part the village consisted of small wooden shacks with thatched roofs that seemed adequate to house around four people each. The only buildings that seemed to break up the monotony of different homes were a larger white building near the centre of the town village that seemed to be a town hall of sorts and a another larger cottage but this one was wooden like the others. It seemed to be for storage more so as there were limited windows and no light escaped from them while all the other homes had the faint orange flickers beam from them as the sun had begun its descent and most wished to be illuminated before it was too late. Still in absence of a tavern Vuren slowed Agro even more till she was walking slow and methodically so Vuren so glance round every different corner in search of his resting place but it still escaped him. 

 “Hey boy.” Vuren called to the small lad who had just finished lighting up the last of the villages night lights. “Where’s your tavern?”.

“By the entrance on the other side of town.” The boy informed him with a point after a few queer looks of confusion.

“Thank you.”

“Hey wait.” The boy called to Vuren just as he was pulling on Agro’s reigns to turn her. “You aren’t from around here, huh?”

“Correct.” Vuren answered mentally fighting back the urge to say no s**t.

“So why are you here?” The boy asked with confusion in his eyes. “No one ever comes here?”

“Just passing through.” Vuren brushed off the kid and turned Agro in the direction he pointed in. He thought briefly on why the child had decided to comment on his appearance like that as in this world travellers were as comment as lice but Vuren rationalised it with the thought that either the boy had yet to come to the same conclusions on the world as him or this place was so remote and so isolated that it did not have many travellers. The latter could very much be an option as the village itself was within spitting distance of the Yohsho mountains and over them lay the dark elf country of Abavuki and the light elf country of Ishimori. The two countries were in turmoil still as even though the war that had been waging between the two for countless years had been temporarily ceased while the leaders discussed peace most people knew to steer clear of the area as it was still a volatile place with both sides having guerrilla groups that slay the other species whenever the opportunity presented itself, and even when it did not. For merchants the area would seem unviable as even though the mountains that held the border were a good enough blockage for both species the area was still swarming with the illegal activities of those that had managed to cross it. Vuren himself had not seen any of the species as he had been making his way to the village for the night but he understood that as a human, well human looking, man he was not the intended target of either of the two groups and he could safely enough travel the area with only the occasional attack from a rogue mountain harpy to worry him.

Vuren turned from the boy and spurred Agro on into a light trot once more as he pushed forward onto the inn in a deep desire for a drink. Vuren casually inspected the rest of the village as he trotted through. It was mostly the same type of cottage as he had seen before, sturdy build wooden ones with thatched roofs, but he found the consistency quaint as most other village he had traveller to had random assortments of houses dotted about all over the place with no adherence to consistency or social structure whatsoever. This village was different however as it kept everything uniform as it subtly indicated that everyone was on the same level. No one was higher, no one had more status, everyone was equal. It was a novel idea Vuren thought but one that could only work on such a small-scale level such as this as he chuckled to himself at the idea of applying this logic to the world. He knew the ego of men and women the length and breadth of the country could not sustain this as they would rebel and try to make themselves seen as better than others purely to fuel their own selfish egos. It was funny in Vuren’s mind as while he made do with the minimal it was possible to life with others clamoured over each other to have the next best meaningly possession just so they could stuff it in their oversized mansions and brag about it to other people caught up in trivial matter such as that. It made Vuren laugh every time he thought about it as he could never understand the mindset of the rich as it was never enough for them to enjoy what they had, no they always needed more. 

As Vuren continued on towards the entrance on the other side of the village he saw as clear as day the tavern as it peeked into view. Being one of the only two-storey houses in the village, save the large town hall that acted as the centre point for the village, Vuren was shocked he had not seen it sooner but laughed it off as having been covered by one of identical cottages.

Agro, clearly spent after a hard days ride, was panting a little and her breath was beginning to become noticeable in the evenings chill. Vuren swung his leg off her while she still trotted onwards and clapped her twice on the side. She understood this motion very well as she had been trained for years in the odd quirks of Vuren’s movement and she slowed down gradually eventually coming to a complete halt as Vuren popped his other foot from her stirrup and jumped down onto the muddy ground below. He grabbed onto Agro’s reigns even though he was confident she would not run off he felt the instinctual need to do it anyway. Guiding her towards a horizonal bar where two other horses were tied, Vuren tied a loose knot he knew Agro could escape from if she wanted and looked around for some food for her. Seeing none Vuren assessed that he needed to pay for it inside first and made his first few hesitant steps to the door.

Vuren knew all about monsters. All the species and their offshoots. Their preferred biomes. Their size. Their diet. Their weight. Their reproductive cycle. Their average lifespan. But people were a different beast. He was not awkward around people but he was careful around them as he always knew that somewhere beneath the surface was some kind of alternate agenda, especially when he mentioned what his job was. He hated it as when with monsters it was so easy to make judgment calls at the creature either wanted you dead or would be ignoring you, it was black and white, but with people it was harder. Judgments of character had to be made and Vuren second guessed himself constantly on whether or not people were being honest with him or not as he knew that all too many people hid their true intentions behind a mask. It was always easier just to wave them off and ensure his own mask of stoicism was worn as whenever dealing with someone he was not familiar with Vuren always struggled with where they lay in respects to him. 

He took a second to collect his breath and adore his mask of cold indifference before he pushed open the tavern door and entered. Business was not booming as only a few patrons were present almost all of whom turned to glance at Vuren as the door creaked open. Vuren twisted his body round and clutched at the cold wooden door before closing it as gentle as he could but the hinges still made the same creaking sound on the reverse trip. Grimacing a little at the entrance he made as he did not want this many eyes on him, Vuren cursed internally before straightening up and walking towards the bar with whatever cool confidence he could muster up. The two locals that were at the table nearest the bar returned to the conversation as did the three men at the back wall who were all gathered round a large pitcher of mead. The were to that did not remove their eyes from Vuren however. One was the barmaid who he was eyeing up also to ensure she knew his attention was wanted and the other was a cloaked dark elf woman sitting at the far side of the bar clutching at a glass of water. Vuren shot a glance her way to try and figure the woman out but she quickly averted her gaze as soon as his eyes met hers. He could barely make out any of her features from a distance save that she was skinner that most elves he had seen as elves valued beauty based on how plump someone was as the fatter they were the wealthier they were seen to be. The only other feature Vuren noted was the presence of rings on the elf’s fingers. A small emerald jewel glistened off the candlelight and the silver it was wrapped in did not appear cheap although Vuren could not get the greatest of looks at it from the other side of the bar. Vuren decided to steer clear of the elf as she seemed like one of those duplicities people that would only talk to him if their agenda could be advanced.

“What’ll it be?” the barmaid asked Vuren as he neared the bar. She was a middle-aged lady who had seen better days. Her face told a harsh story as years of working in the bar had made her once soft features tense and rough. Her skin, while still in good shape, was dry in places and had started to peel somewhat behind the ear in a nasty looking scab. Her dress was dirty with spilled drinks and ingrained stains that looked years old and it had become discoloured with the once vibrant colours sapped away leaving only the drab brown and off-white combination. The only thing that did look new were her boots which still had their fair share of mud on them likely from the track outside which had been well trodden on.

“You got oats for my horse.” He asked respectfully as he lay his arms on the bars countertop.

“I can get a bucket for it if you’d like.”

“Yeah, please.”

“And anything for you?” The barmaid asked pleasantly. Vuren again could not tell if it was sincere or not but he figured since it was her job it was not.

“Pint of mead and do you have a stew or something going?”

“We’ve a broth on the go that I can get for you.” The barmaid said in the same cheer tone that confirmed to Vuren that her pleasantness was a façade. 

“Yeah I’ll take a bowl of that. And a room for the night if you have one.” Vuren stated as he took a few loose coins from the pouch that dangled from his belt and placed them in the countertop. The barmaid gathered them up with feverish intent all but confirming to Vuren her true desires and validating his stance on people being two-faced.

“We do. I can have one set up after I fetch the oats for your horse.” She stated plainly as she stuffed the coin to the front pouch of her working dress.

Vuren watched her go and gather his order at the bar for a second before he took up residence at one of the tables closest to the window as despite seeing it all day Vuren admired the view as the Yohsho mountains once again. They were beautiful vista complimented greatly by the oranges of the setting sun and Vuren was content to let the time drift away as the evening made its way into night but he knew at some point something would come to ruin it he just did not bank on it being so soon.

The curious dark elf made her way skittishly across the room taking great care to avoid eye contact with any of the patrons. One of the pack of three men at the back looked up at her as she passed but she yanked down on her hood and darted past them with a feverish intensity. Her face was covered save the tip of her chin which was hit only occasionally with faint glints off of nearby candles but whenever it happened the elf would pull down on her hood once more ensuring it did not come loose. Vuren was, despite not looking her way, aware that the elf was making her way towards him. years of training had heightened his senses to the point where he could make judgments on rooms based on sounds and smells. On this occasion however he did not need his sharpened senses as even the blind could see the elf coming. Her attempts at being inconspicuous made her more obvious to any observer and Vuren chuckled as he knew just how out of her element she must be to think her disguise was of any use.

As she came closer Vuren leaned back in his chair and casually looked towards her. She was taller than he had suspected as the cloak had hidden her true height behind it. It had not however damaged his assessment on how skinny she was as she was very un-elf like in her appearance especially for one that was clearly not adept to the outside world as she was. Vuren guessed in his head what she wanted before she opened her mouth. He had dealt with people like her before, the ones that had forced the stern face upon him. He had been offered by a representative of a countess once to locate her missing daughter. Vuren declined the offer as it was something that did not interest him and he analysis the daughter had just run off to go sleep with some boy of lesser standing. The decline was met with harsh response as the countess barred him from entering her property again but Vuren shrugged it off as if the woman really wanted to have him arrested for entering her land he was aware he would be out of prison within a week either through the proper legal channels as the rulers of the world, despite never outright saying it, required him and his kind to continue their public services or he would get out through less legal means. 

“Whatever you want I’m not interest.” Vuren sighed as the woman approached. He felt his eyes tense under his eyebrows as he did not bother to raise them as he looked up at her.

“But you haven’t even…” the dark elf began in a shocked soft voice that barely reached Vuren it was that quiet.

“Yeah I know I haven’t heard your proposal but I ain’t interest. Everyone sees the sword round my waist and assumes I’ll help them for the right price. I ain’t for sale. I got my own stuff I need to do and I don’t have time for whatever it is you have for me. Not interested.” Vuren tone was harsh, perhaps a little too harsh but he needed it to be understood how serious he was.

“No, you will help me. You are the only one.” She says not put off by Vuren’s words.

She took the seat across from him in an unconfident but authoritative manner that was confusing Vuren as much as it was annoying him. He disliked social interactions at the best of times but with someone as insistent as the dark elf was bound to be he dreaded the following few minutes.