Ol' Flint the Crow

A Parting Gift

Zipping her tear-stained face away from the wailing blue elf, Lori glared at Samuel. Her eyes were in flames and were spotted with red veins like a spider's webbed. No longer did she try to confined her feelings. They came gushing out in an instant.

"YOU!!!" she bellowed, pointing an accusing finger at the minstrel and the dreaded flute he held. "You made Eleanora cry! How could you?! Look at what you've done to her!"

Samuel stared at the young elf. She was covered in bloody tears and was sobbing uncontrollable. Comforting her in his wobbling arms, Master Rivlit cried along with her. Eleanora then shoved her disheveled face deep into the elf master's chest and cried all the more while wailing Aerris's name.

Plagued with guilt, Samuel's lip quivered at the pitiful sight of the young elf maiden. What had he done? Sinking low into his chair, he looked up at Lori who had just sprang from her seat to berate him further.

"You hand no right to do that to her minstrel," Lori screamed; her voice weak and frail. "See what your music did to her! T-that song you played was cruel! You were wrong to twiddled your slippery fingers on that instrument of misery! How dare you? How dare you! Y-you heartless... Errr! Uhhh..."

Lori rushed away from the table and ducked her head to hide these feelings pouring out of her like rain water. However, just before she was out of earshot, Bleak, who was not about to let the elf go without an arrogant remark, whistled to her.

"You really should learn how to control your anger, Lori," snickered the barmaid. "An elf shouldn't be so emotional, like us humans. Right?"

Lori crumpled up her lips and fled through the trees as fast as she could. Sneering gleefully, Bleak triumphantly curled her hands around the back of her head and smiled.

Samuel, however, was not as delighted as the bartender. He stuffed his instrument back in his pocket, shook his head, and grimaced at Bleak's her haughty expression. Then the minstrel gazed back at Eleanora, crying in Master Rivlit's arm. Samuel's heart pounded like a drum as he looked around the table at the other whimpering elves wailing their eyes out.

Driven by guilt, Samuel vocalized to all the elves, "I apologize. I was arrogant and didn't think about my actions and who they could hurt. Forgive me High Elf Eleanora. It was not my intent to do this to all of you."

"I don't know about the rest of them," Bleak cackled rudely, "but I think it was pretty damn wonderfully. Hehe!"

Rolling his eyes at the barmaid, Samuel took up his new sword and excused himself from the table. Bleak followed close behind, snickering loudly. Before they left the grassy clearing leaving the elves to whimper by themselves, Miss Bleak hoisted the sleeping bird in her arms and bobbed her head while traveling among the trees. A silly tune escaped her lips as she tucked Flint's body with one arm and wiped away the remaining tears from her eyes with the other. Samuel found her whistling to be a nice departure from her normal gruff personality, but it irked him that she was enjoying herself at the expense of the elves.

Every once in a while, Bleak would playfully nudge Murk with her shoulder as if trying to get him to join in on her whistling.

"That was rather impressive, Samuel!" She winked at him smugly. "Guess I was wrong about you. Even if you're an annoying little cuss most of the time, you know what? You're rather interesting. I mean for a flute player, at least. You sure showed those big-headed, idiot elves. Ha! I'll never forget that as long as I live. Did you see Lori's face? Bet she'll never live it down. I'll definitely won't let her!"

Rubbing his eyes as if in pain, Samuel replied, "I doubt Flint would like that."

"What?" Bleak said, squinting her eyes at Samuel at him mentioning her friend's name. "I'm giving you a compliment for once, flute player. Gods! Accept it."