Tales of Fire and Ruin

Debts to Repay

I had always believed elves were long gone from the world. If you paid attention, however, like I did now, they had left their mark far and wide. Long-standing traces of their presence still hid themselves all across the Thundercoast, Wildewall, and beyond. 

Here in the Thundercoast, a plant with glossy, pointed leaves and a potent poison grew in the hills nearby the Marchpass ruins. In autumn when its flowers bloomed, the breeze carried a deceptively sweet scent to highest peaks and lowest valleys. The official name of this deadly plant was Bleeding Ivy. But nobody used that name—the common folk called it Elvenear for its sleek appearance and sharp leaves. 

Elves were the villain in children's stories involving kidnapping and men being lured into swamps by beautiful women that turned into monsters. Implying elves had raised you was an insult for a conniving, selfish person. Those who were wither-touched, notoriously an elven gift and a dangerous one, were still often found dead of 'natural causes' outside of their villages. These deaths getting a fair investigation was questionable at best.

Despite king Betram's war being long forgotten and elves all but diminished into legend, the hatred was alive and seeped into many things without us questioning it. The longer I stared up at my bedroom ceiling while laying awake, the more examples I could think of.

I was not entirely above the superstitions either. Even now, after Oleander and I had already traveled several days together, I still told my family to lock their doors before they retired to their bedroom. Maybe it wasn't fair, but I didn't know Oleander and I hadn't told my family what he was. I had to protect them somehow from elves who... who were impossibly beautiful and said things that made my head and heart hurt. 

"May I find something I'm passionate about," I muttered into the darkness. 

I was not passionate about becoming a knight, or being the heir of the Montbow family. Oleander's words, him wishing me a happy rest of my life, ran through my mind over and over. So much that when I finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep, I dreamt of the beach and Oleander ankle-deep in the waves. He smiled at me. His lips moved, but I couldn't hear what he said. I walked closer to him.

"..k...u..."

"...ake up."

"Wake up!"

I woke with a start. 

Endris' frantic face hovered over mine and he shook my shoulders violently. The panic in Endris' eyes instantly rendered me wide awake. It was dark in my room, the only source of light being the candle Endris carried in his hand.

"What?" I asked. "What's going on?"

"Oleander's not in the mansion."

"What?" I repeated, shooting upright in my bed. I kicked the sheets off my legs. "Where did he go? Did Mother make him go on the errand already?"

"No," Endris said impatiently. "Lady Montbow is not awake yet, and has not even handed him the letter she wants him to deliver!"

Swearing under my breath, I jumped up from my bed, crossed the room, and snatched my shirt from the chair. There was a stab of guilt in my chest. I'd repeatedly told him to leave. What if he had felt so unwelcome he left early? "Did he go on his own then? Where did he go?"

"If I knew, I would be there, not here," Endris snapped. "But yes, he seemed to have left on his own... And a short man with long silvery hair like him will not go unnoticed outside."

"Thanks for your sharp observation," I snapped back, matching Endris' annoyed tone. After throwing my shirt on, I moved on to my trousers, hopping as I pulled the fabric over one leg before stepping into the other trouser leg. "Why would he even risk leaving on his own? And why were you in his room this early?"