"Untitled" by Mariposa Gollery

Rois had traveled far. She was a naturally wandering spirit and had always wanted to see as much of the world and its ways as possible.

She was traveling on a road leading east, a road that lead off her map. There was one little village before her map ran out of map. It would take two or three days before she reached it, she guessed. After that, she would be mapping on her own.

As she walked steadily on, looking for a good place to camp, it started to rain. Cursing her luck, she donned the hood of her cloak, and kept moving forward. The rain grew harder.

Soon, it was driving her into the ground, and was starting to seep through the very well made cloak. Lifting her head slightly, she thought she saw a glimmer in the distance. Was it her imagination, or was there a tavern or a campfire further down the road?

With the strength of newborn determination, she bowed her head once more and kept going.

The door of the tavern banged open, and she came in. The men drinking looked up as she threw back her hood. There were fewer customers than she would find in most places, but there were still more than she expected. She had seen no one on the road for days, and was surprised at the number of people that could be here.

After a few seconds, the drinking and slight chatter resumed, and she went up to the bar.

The barmaid was a pretty young girl, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She was wearing a reasonable dress made of soft white cloth, but she still looked like she could hold her own in a fight if needed.

“I would like to rent a room for the night,” Rois said.

“I’ll get you the mistress, miss,” the barmaid said kindly. She went through a door behind the bar and was gone.

Rois glared around at the men and few women staring at her. When she caught their gaze, they returned to their drinks.

Soon the barmaid was back with another, older woman who had curly brown hair and almond eyes.

“I hear you want a room?” the woman said. “Do you have any preferences to what kind of room and the bed type?”

“I just want a clean dry bed,” Rois said. “Any kind of room will do.”

“Would you like a bath?” the woman asked.

Rois thought for a moment. She was heading into uncharted territory, and would probably need as much money as possible. But she hadn’t had a warm bath in a long time…

“Yes, I would,” she replied.

“Alright. I’ll show you your room, and then you can do whatever you like. It’s beef stew for dinner tonight, if you’re hungry.”

“Thank you,” Rois said, and followed the woman through a small hallway, up a flight of stairs, through another narrow hallway and into a small room.

“The bath will be up in thirty minutes,” the woman said, and left, shutting the door behind her.

Rois hung her dripping cloak on the door and shook out her long, curly auburn hair. She shed her jacket as well. She stretched, and tested out the bed. It was soft compared to what she had been sleeping on for the past week or two, and was indeed clean. Not having much else to do, Rois pocketed a handful of her coins and went back down the stairs to the main room.

She sat at a table next to the fire and ordered herself some dinner. Again glaring around for any staring eyes, she noticed that some of the people in the tavern were a bit strange. Some were fairer than most ordinary traveling people, and others had pointed ears.

So the rumors were true. Elves did exist.

She tuned her sharp ears into the nearest conversation, and listened closely.

One man was saying, “There’s no respect for half elves these days. You go much farther west than this and they’re throwing you out or starting a fight. It’s getting dangerous, and people hold grudges longer than needed.”

The other man at the table replied, “But it’s a good way to get business, and not only selling things. There are some interesting things that the people over there are finding or creating. The magic’s leaving, but it’s being replaced with some things that are just as interesting.”

The first man sounded almost angry in his reply. “But there’s no respect! They here that there’s a gleam of foreign blood and they turn up their noses. Business is getting harder and harder to find, and I’d almost rather not have to go west at all.”

“If there’s no respect, then we’ll earn some,” a third man said. “I say we force our kind on the humans. If they don’t accept us, then we’ll just make them. What do you say?”

At this point dinner came. Rois continued to listen while she ate, curious.

The second man didn’t seem to like this proposal at all. “I think that’s just bringing us as low as them,” he said. “If we do that, rumors will start of the elves going bad. The more we fight, the more they’ll think that elves are no longer a beautiful and kind race. They’ll start sending out parties to burn our forests and ravage our lands. If no parties are sent, some will go anyway. That is the worst idea I’ve heard in a long time.”

The third man was still almost persistent. “I’m not the only one who’s been saying this. Many are getting the idea that humans are beginning to forget about us. Already in the far west we have become beings of legends and myths. There are tales of us living in the east, but humans have stopped coming to find out. Those furthest west think we have died out or never existed in the first place. The elves won’t stand for this. You know as well as I that though we are not evil, there are many that would start a war just to remind the humans that elves do exist. Mark my words gentlemen, I am not the first or the last.”

“That is ridiculous,” the second man said. “We are not that cruel. The king would never allow it.”

“Ah, but would he?” the third man said. “Would he try to stop us reminding the humans of our presence? Would he sit in his palace and ignore the humans while they stick up their noses at his kind? Would he think that acceptable?”

Rois finished her dinner and went up to her room, carrying a small portion of her stew with her. She set the morsel on the floor by her coat. A brown ferret slithered out of the sleeve and started munching away at the stew. A steaming bath was waiting for her, and she sank into it gratefully. She had forgotten how nice it felt to sit with the warm water caressing her skin, especially on rainy days.

As she soaked, she thought on what the men, elves, half elves, whatever they were, had said. Would the elves start a war with the humans to remind them of their existence? The thought worried her as she finished her bath, and worried her still as she climbed into the nice warm bed. The little ferret curled up on her pillow next to her. She fell asleep with men and elves running through her mind, battling each other, making peace, growing apart and battling again. No matter how hard they clashed, the outcome never really changed. Would it ever?