I press my palm against my forehead as I try to figure out how to tell him that I’d like some time with my wife now without dying from the mortification of it all.
“So, your father was a Lower Elf?” my father asks, leaning forward his eyes earnest, and I realize that the conversation has moved to Talyria. Things that I don’t technically know. I lean closer, to catch her response.
“Yes, and that’s where I get my coloration from,” she says reaching up to run a hand through her hair. It is black as the night despite the blue tone of her skin distinguishing her as being of Higher Elf decent as well. It’s obvious that this is a conversation she has had many times.
I’ll admit that I wondered myself, but I hadn’t wanted to pry. I flex my jaw as I realize the ridiculousness of it all. I married the woman, and yet I didn’t want to seem like I was prying by asking about her past and family.
“But I thought the Higher Elves hate the Lower Elves,” my father presses. “And vice versa.”
Talyria shrugs. “Oh, they do, but that was a long time ago. And my parents’ marriage was arranged. It didn’t necessarily end well. I have a half-sister who can attest to how little my mother loved my father.”
My father’s eyes widen. “How long ago was this?”
Indeed, there are many arranged marriages in Ruskhazar, especially between the noble families, but the animosity between the Higher Elves and Lower Elves is so strong, so deep, and so steeped in blood that I’m not sure if any High Elf has married a Lower Elf in, well…. centuries. Even if it was arranged, I think that either participant would rather die than be forced to marry each other.
Talyria tilts her head enough that I can see the mysterious smile that graces her lips. “Some time,” she says simply. I think she will leave it at that, but then she adds. “I got my father’s lifespan it seems.”
It’s true that Higher Elves live longer than humans; they have about twice our lifespan. Lower Elves are actually virtually immortal. After they reach maturity, they will not age and remain untouched by time no matter how much of it passes them by.
I feel my eyes widen as I suddenly wonder just how much older my wife is than me. Likely a detail I should have found out before I married an elf…
Ah, well, we live and learn.
Suddenly I can see why Likho thought I’d be a good vessel for chaos.
Apparently, I need to work on thinking through my actions.
I’m still standing there wondering if it’s worth enduring all the wedding night jokes my father can hurl my way, or if I should just call it a night and retire now. When suddenly the door bursts open.
Howling wind rushes into the room, bringing a flurry of snow with it. I stare in shock as a hooded figure steps into the room and struggles against the wind to push the door back shut. Just as the wood clicks back into place and the sound of the howling wind is muffled on the other side, a scream sounds from somewhere in the inn.
Chapter Five
Corallin
Iwas wondering if I’d found the right establishment in the storm, but as I hear the scream, I realize that I must be in the right place.
After all, in a quest for ancient power, someone’s bound to get hurt. I just figured that it would all happen after I got here, not necessarily before.
Despite the late hour, there are still a few people in the inn’s front room. A man with impressive sideburns who I assume from his stained apron to be the innkeeper. There is a woman sitting at the bar in front of him and a bleary-eyed bearded man, who given the resemblance between him and the other man, I take to be the innkeeper’s son.
They all stare at me for a second in confusion, but then another scream pierces the air of the inn, and it quickly draws the attention away from me.
I feel the corner of my mouth turn up as the two men and the woman all rush to the back of the room in the direction of the scream. A useful distraction all the same.
As a Higher Elf, I’m usually immediately viewed with suspicion due to my people’s legacy as criminals and vagabonds. But as a vampire, sorceress, and assassin, it’s a necessity to not draw attention to myself. I usually utilize that by hiding amongst shadows, remaining unseen and unheard. Unfortunately, the storm forced me to enter the front door. I could barely find even that in the cold.
I shake out my cloak, dislodging the snow stuck to it and slip down the hall following the other people. Time to find out what I just walked in on.
My vampiric senses catch the smell of blood before I round the corner and find a gathering of people in the hallway. My heart sinks when I see that there are far more people at this inn than I would have liked. It will make it harder to locate my query and the spellbook he carries. It will also make it so there are more witnesses in case things get messy.
I’ve been tracking my prey for months, following a trail of mysterious cures to ailments until it brought me here.
The last healing happened just yesterday in this very town. With the storm, the healer could not escape with his spellbook, instead he must be staying the night here at the inn. But just who is he… or she for all I know.
I push to my tiptoes, trying to catch a glimpse of what is going on the other side of the crowd of half-dressed hysterical inn guests. I hear one girl sobbing and someone else trying to comfort her. Other people are asking, “Who could have done this?”
Unfortunately, I’m too short to see anything.
