The Flirtatious Elf's Search for the Purest Love (2)
2140 Words
After the baring of the entire backstory behind the arranged marriage and Ruth's search for true love, I finally get it.
To restore Ruth's maligned reputation back to its pristine condition, I come up with a plan.
“Kent... I need you to help me restore the elves' confidence in Ruth. This way, she can finally move on with finding her ideal man.”
“Actually, I've formulated such a plan for a long time. I had to relegate them to the back-burner because I was busy with my day job, and because I didn't want Brajiravrakorune nor his stooges to know about this.”
“Well, you can safely enact that plan now. He and his stooges were all arrested yesterday... for being involved in weapons smuggling.”
The fact that they all used hand cannons means there's one huge supplier of them, according to the constabulary, but that's a story for another day.
“Oh! Thanks! That's one huge burden off my back. Alright, I think I've hidden my plan sketches... there.”
Hmm... after taking a look at those plans, they mostly align with what I have in mind.
Basically, what Kent has in mind is the removal of the fear, uncertainty, and doubt that House Gill has implanted into the elven populace in recent years. The clan's physical presence may have been eliminated with Brajiravrakorune and his minions arrested, but the FUD still lingers in the hapless citizens' minds.
All it takes for his “deprogramming” to work is to remove that FUD via encouraging messages, which he says he had read from a book on psychological counseling not too long ago.
Yes. He emphasizes the word “encouragement”.
Because if one fights a form of fear by instilling another form of fear, then that is not encouragement at all.
Instead, it's called “threatening”.
We immediately set his plan into motion by beginning to produce pamphlets that encourage the elves to assemble tomorrow morning at the enclave's central square.
We especially choose our words carefully, mainly to prevent any threatening overtones or undertones in our message.
After we have produced the pamphlets quickly (mainly by utilizing Koply, a support spell that copies a specific item), Ken volunteers to distribute the pamphlets himself.
“I decide to go because I best understand the pulse of my fellow elves. If Ruth will go, many will threaten her outright; and if Walter will go, they will not be willing to listen to him out of indifference.”
Ruth and I both nod in agreement.
“We wish you success.”
We give him the much-needed encouragement he will need to inspire more encouragement.
Minutes later...
Ruth and I remain in Kent's abode as we monitor him distributing pamphlets to the folks here.
We notice that he doesn't just hand over these papers; he also talks to them like old friends and even shows a caring attitude towards them even in the face of some hardheaded people among them.
And the folks' reactions?
They're mostly all smiles, while some are initially hesitant but are then easily swayed by his positivism-inducing encouragement.
This is a great start.
But the real litmus test will be tomorrow.
And as tomorrow comes...
We all never expected this multitude to show up!
Practically everyone in Bea-Davaeth is gathering here in the central square, 7,000 strong.
They're all willing and ready to listen to Kent's words, which opens thus:
“Everyone, listen up!
“If you are all wondering why an ordinary lens maker is speaking up in front of you all...
“I want you to know that fear has divided us, the elven people of Bea-Davaeth.
“That unknown fear of being subjugated by the humans whom we maintain cordial relations with for hundreds of years is the reason why House Gill has maintained a stranglehold on us all recently.
“The thing they call 'elven independence'? That is mere nonsense brought about by the fear they have manufactured.
“They feared that us elves would go extinct once the cordial relations continue as it always has been – and that fear is total garbage. Why is that?
“It's because we all have a thing called choice. We can marry pure-blood elves, we can marry half-elves, and we can marry humans. It's our choice. Fear forces us all into making only one choice – and it is not necessarily the best one. I tell you... it can even be the worst.
“So if you want that fear to get out of your systems, always remember one of the promises the fairy of legend made to the adventurer, the founder of the Kingdom of Lebenswasserheim...
“'Fear leads to the rottenness of the heart. Because if a man is afraid that something bad will happen to him, one way or another; then he is taking out that something bad and uses it on another man, blackening his heart as he takes those fears out on many more. Fight fear at its very source instead.'”
As the elves intently listen to his speech, some of them are shedding tears, knowing they are regretting picking on poor Ruth as a scapegoat for their own insecurities – insecurities made even worse by the instilling of fear by the now-disgraced clan.
“So if we want the harmony between elves and humans to last for thousands more years, even forever... we all must fight the fear within us ourselves. There are so many ways, so many choices... but all those roads lead to one destination: A life courageous and without regrets. Thank you all.”
As soon as the speech ends, Ruth's entire family comes running to her, all hugging her while still shedding tears of happiness and remorse.
Ruth's mom initiates.
“We're sorry we declared you dead to us, Rutherfordine... No mere words would suffice our regret.”
“That's OK, mom. You were all victims, too... just like me.”
“Now, we have realized that yes, the age of fear is over. We can now go back to the way it was – being a big happy family.”
“Thank you, mom! I'll always be your daughter, now and forever!”
As I watch the heartwarming moment from the sidelines, I can now say...
Yes, she is ready to find her true love... now that her entire family is reunited and willing to support her in her greatest endeavor yet.
The next day...
Kent, having finished his job of deprogramming the fear-laden elves of Bea-Davaeth, happily goes back to his day job.
We bid farewell, or should we say, “see you again” to him.
I now spend the day in House Mabanglou's manor, which is quite exquisite for a human like me.
Ruth's family furnished only the best for a human guest: A nice guest room, the tastiest dishes, and of course...
Ruth's own TLC, minus the suggestiveness.
As Ruth and I enjoy some afternoon tea at the manor's balcony...
An elven courier hands over a letter to Ruth, among other people in this town.
She lets me see the contents of the letter, which reads thus:
Unhappy with being single?
Come to the Winterfest Singles Mixer and start the new year less lonely!
25th of Oraclemonth, 1019 CE
Vertisia Tent, Poblation, Lebenswasserheim Burghal
7 post meridiem to midnight
Free admission
See you there!
“There's your opportunity, Ruth! Grab it while it's hot!”
“Great! I'll certainly go... and you'll be my chaperon.”
“Sweet!”
I remain in the Mabanglou manor until the 25th of Oraclemonth, the day of Winterfest.
While the Kindgom of Lebenswasserheim has a stable temperate climate throughout the year and doesn't veer between too hot or too cold, Winterfest is still celebrated for more than a millennium, as immigrants from the wintry Amitabhilian north settled in one of the pre-kingdom hamlets, and thus their habits were later integrated into the kingdom's list of yearly celebrations.
Winterfest eventually comes, and Ruth and I have to bid farewell to her family for the singles mixer event.
“Bye, Rutherfordine! May your search for true love be fruitful! This will be the best gift for our entire clan, you hear?”
Ruth's father encourages her.
“Yes, dad! I'll be back with a man you'll all surely like!”
It takes nothing more than a fancy carriage ride all the way from the elven enclave to the capital, which takes us three hours, to arrive at the event place an hour before the start.
That thing about VIPs arriving fashionably late? Here in this kingdom, it's highly frowned upon according to etiquette!
As we blend in naturally with our smart casual, non-adventurer clothes, we find no trouble greeting everyone else in Vertisia Tent.
The clock ticks seven post meridiem, and the master of ceremonies declares the following:
“Happy Winterfest, everyone! As the year is drawing to a close, may you find your soulmate, one way or another, in this peaceful and prosperous kingdom that encourages love in all of its different shapes and sizes! Without further ado, the singles mixer begins... NOW!”
Festive music is being played by a huge ensemble consisting of strings, horns, percussion, and talented bards.
Many of those who gathered here are excited by the seemingly unlimited amount of food they can gorge on and drinks they can binge on.
Hope they don't put on more calories than the laws of romantic attraction allow.
As Ruth's chaperon, I might suspect there might more of those nasty catcallers who escaped the long arm of the law and are infiltrating this event to do their dirty deeds.
And fortunately, there are none here.
Just single dudes and dudettes finding love... and others who act as mere companions, or are here just for the food and drinks.
While a good number of people enjoy dancing to the groovy songs (and roughly 75% of them are singles who have easily acquired their Mr. or Ms. Rights within the opening minutes of the event), Ruth and I enjoy shooting the breeze at a table, munching on some chicken lollipops...
...when a man who is barely reaching five feet tall, with a face so young that he can easily disguise his true age, and is dressed in a pressed buttoned-down shirt and neatly-folded pants, suddenly comes to us with much nervousness.
He asks...
“A-Are you guys boyfriend and girlfriend?”
I answer...
“Nope. I'm just her chaperon.”
“G-good. You sure brought a great-looking elf with you, huh?”
Ruth then cuts in.
“Yes, thank you for acknowledging that I'm indeed great looking, with my shapely body and all... but why did you come to us?”
“Who, me? I-it's because I'm too desperate, that's all. I-I wanted to join in the mixer because I'll have a higher chance of meeting the girl I'll love for the rest of my life.”
“Now tell me. How desperate is too desperate?”
“L-look... I've been dumped a hundred times so far. What makes you think you'll be the 101st to do so?”
She gently taps his shoulder, pacifying him.
“Young man, you have this fear inside you... and that fear has made you unknowingly turn all those other women off.”
“W-What makes you say that, fair elven lass?”
“I've also been the victim of fear. Fear of having our race being wiped out, which was manufactured by a now-disgraced elven clan that preached outright racism.”
“Oh, really?”
“If you want to combat that fear of being rejected again, I'll be there to help.”
“W-Why is that?”
“It's because...”
She stands up, gently takes his hand, and lets him rest his face on those bountiful bazongas of hers while giving him some head pats.
“I will never reject you. I feel that in the sea of men here in this event, you are the one.”
“M-me? T-thanks, Miss Elf.”
“This elven lass is named Rutherfordine Mabanglou. Ruth for short. And you are?”
“I-I'm Marco Rufer, a freelance journalist. I-I mainly cover events like this...”
“My, my. Make sure you don't report our fling in whatever newspaper you write for, 'cause that will count as biased news, right~?”
“Y-Yes. I-I'll cover this event normally.”
“Good.”
Thank the Most High that Ruth has gotten her flirtatiousness back.
And now, she's applying it on the man she will truly love for a lifetime and beyond.
The year 1019 CE will end with explosions...
...in both the literal and... uh... sensual sense.
I hope you're happy now, Belle.
- Writer
