I stared at yet another ceiling of a room I couldn't recognize.
Waking up in the warm bath after having dozed off, supported by the same root-like structures that built the walls around me, filled me with a sense of refreshment I hadn't felt in ages. I knew I was somewhere in the palace, but where, exactly, I had no clue.
That's probably the best bath I'll ever get while I'm here, I suddenly thought, remembering why we had come here in the first place.
I looked in the mirror, and was taken aback at just how different I now looked. My silver hair held no traces of my former brown, though my green eyes stayed the same. I still had the same muscle mass, which was a little disappointing, but at least I looked how I was meantto now.
And that is going to take some getting used to, I thought, touching the tips of my pointed ears.
A black leather, at least what I thought was leather, tunic that looked not unlike the jerkin I normally wore, had been laid out for me. It wasn't the traditional jerkin I was used to wearing back in Codrean, but it felt lighter, that much I was certain of.
The accent of the clothing was that of a wine-colored undershirt and matching, dyed-leather sashes. After having fought with the sashes, buckles, and other such things required for tightening and adjustments, I let out an audible sigh of frustration.
I know how to put armor on, but what the actual fuck do I do with this thing? I thought as I played with a loose piece of leather that flopped around lazily.
"Do you require assistance?" a female voice said. It sounded young, probably somewhere around my age, though I knew whoever this was might actually be much older than I was. "Uhhh, yes, please. I'm a little lost with what to do with this…strap," I said, for lack of a better word. "Can I come in, then?" the female asked, her tone light and playful. "O-of course," I stammered.
Oh, no… my thoughts trailed.
The elf who walked in didn't look much older than I was. As far as I could tell, she didn't look any older than about twenty-five, though I knew she was likely much older than that. Her voice perfectly matched her fine, pale features, silver hair and a pair of violet eyes that felt like they were staring directly into my soul.
She wore a fine, dark olive dress, with silver inlaid into the seams that highlighted themselves against their dark background. She greeted me with a warm smile, one I felt I had seen a long time ago, but just couldn't place exactly when.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Thoma," she said in a warm tone that matched her smile perfectly. "Ah, I'm assuming my brother gave you my name," I said nervously to which she nodded in agreement. "He did, indeed. Do you still need help with your gear?" she asked, giving my entire body a once over.
While much of my body was covered, I felt almost as if she could see through my armor, and I didn't even know her name.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't flinch on the inside.
That rat bastard didn't even bother to warn… I stopped, remembering that my brother actually had called me sheltered not too long ago.
"Yes, yes please. That would be wonderful. I couldn't figure out what to do with this strap, Miss…uh…" I trailed, hoping she would catch onto what I was getting at as she helped me re-tie the lash. "Ysevel. My name is Ysevel," She said, meeting my eyes. "Just Ysevel?" I asked, noting the lack of a last name. "Just Ysevel," she replied, glancing down at my waist momentarily.
Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around my waist, pulling me in fairly closely. I could feel a couple of strands of her silver hair brushing up against my cheek, as her warm breath battered my neck for just a moment.
No sooner had she done that, she pulled back, and finished adjusting the strap, tucking it into my belt neatly with a knotted finish. "There we are! Looking like a true Caegweni elf now," she said, patting my shoulders. "I thought most elves were awkward about physical touch," I said, almost in disbelief. "Oh, most are, but I find sharing physical touch to make connections much more intimate and personal," she shrugged.
"Since most of us live so long, we often grow… distant from each other. That kind of culture has, unfortunately, bled over into even the younger generations," she said, a slight frown pulling at her soft, pink lips.
No, no, no, motherfucker. No. I mentally slapped myself.
I cleared my throat. "You say that as if you were a hundred years old," I said playfully, to which she merely raised an eyebrow. "But, I'm sorry to hear that," I said, my tone dropping a little as I tried to recover from whatever dumb shit I had just said. "In any case, thank you, Ysevel. I'll uh… try to remember how to do this myself, next time," I said awkwardly. "Of course! But if you ever need my help with something, don't hesitate to call on me," she said, smiling brightly once more.
She reminds me a bit of Leona, but who actually is she? I thought.
"Come, I'll guide you to the banquet hall," she said, extending her arm. "Are you sure this is alright?" I asked, taking her arm in mine. She put a hand on mine, and leaned her head on my shoulder as she glanced up at me with puppy-dog eyes. "Are you embarrassed of me?" she asked playfully, pulling herself away quickly and laughing heartily.
"N-no, I just… I wouldn't want people to get the wrong idea. Especially not my brother, since he knows I have a…" I paused. I hadn't really considered what Meliss and I were, since we'd never put any sort of label on it. We knew we liked each other and slept together a lot, but…
How much further would that go, realistically? I thought, considering what Leona and I had talked about as well.
"Meliss. You have a Meliss," she said, finishing for me. "Bernar?" I asked, already knowing the answer. "Yep," she smiled, squeezing my hand a little more tightly. "It's okay. I won't try or do anything that will jeopardize that, whatever that may be," she continued in her playful tone.
Why do I feel like she knows more about my situation than I do? I asked myself, but decided to not say anything.
"Th-thank you," I managed to say, the cacophony of my own thoughts nearly bleeding through the filter I'd put on my tongue. We continued walking through the city, observing the intricate designs in the surrounding architecture that, I noted once again, all seemed to feed from the same root. "How does that work, exactly?" I accidentally said aloud. "How does what work?" she asked, glancing at me curiously as she searched my green eyes with her violet ones.
Ahhh, fuck, it's hard to look away, I thought.
"H-how do all the buildings seem to connect? Is there like a central root hub or something that all the buildings stem from?" I asked, a nervous smirk strewn across my face as I looked away. "Well, they come from the Hynafol Arboraneth," she said matter-of-factly. "The what, now?" I said, not realizing she had spoken actual words. "The Hynafol Arboraneth, also known as the Ancient Tree," she said, translating the words.
"Hynafol Arboraneth," I repeated softly. She must have either been surprised at my pronunciation, or laughing at how badly I'd probably fucked it up, but she never did explain the reason she chuckled. "So what does it do, exactly?" I asked, unsure of how else to word the question. "It's what helped the elves to learn elemental magic," she began without missing a beat.
"It did? How?" I asked, genuinely curious.