The two of them were now standing in the best clothing their wardrobe had to offer, in front of the clan leader, Mythal. Alnarel was dressed in a dark blue doublet with the yellow knittings making him appear more radiant in the room of darker contrast.
Alnarel's posture remained upright and he concentrated all his senses on the negotiations with the gold-blonde elf sitting behind her desk. A cool head and calm behaviour being the key for this to be a success. Eloriel was standing closely next to him. She had a long dress the same colour as her husband, she wanted them to look in tune with one another. Inasmuch she was the one who chose their outfits since Alnarel hadn't the right taste when it comes to fashion as she had.
Eloriel's light blonde hair slightly waved to a soft breeze that touched their faces, coming from the slightly opened windows behind Mythal. Alnarel looked at her with the corner of his right eye and was captured by his wife's stunning appearance. It wasn't often to see her dressed in fancy clothes, they truly were uncomfortable to wear, he could emphasise with his wife's thinking.
He glanced at her hair, looking so soft that it would break under his touch, her frame of the body perfectly fitting into the dress like a queen without a crown, and not to forget her young looking facial features that slew him every time he fully looked at her. Seeing her proudly standing next to him, made him feel like he could take on anyone.
"Ahm..." Mythal loudly cleared her throat, breaking Alnarel's lovestruck gaze after a few seconds. It took him all his willpower to withstand to look at Eloriel for another eternity, but an afterthought reminded him of the reason they were here.
"Greetings, Mythal." They said in unison as if their minds were connected to one another while slightly bowing their heads in respect. Mythal waved the guard away.
The guard turned on his heels and walked away as quickly as he came in. Leaving the couple alone with Mythal.
Mythal nodded for them to raise their heads. She supported the weight of her head on her left arm against the sturdy concrete of wood. Examining the pair with wary eyes. She had seen them somewhere. She searched through her memory to no vain.
"May I ask for your names?" Mythal's electric blue eyes rested on Eloriel for a moment before returning to look at them both.
"Alnarel and Eloriel." The male answered. The names rang some bells in Mythal's memory. Where had she heard of them before?
"What's your business here?" She leant back in her chair, her gaze never completely leaving the pair. Mythal herself didn't wear any fancy clothes today, despite her being of higher status. Well, she did say that she ignores the difference in wealth overall, so there wasn't much of a surprise there.
"We came here because of our son, Airrel." Eloriel's eyes met hers. Full of determination.
"Ah... Now I remember you." The mentioning of their son's name helped her to remember. They were the first to vote for Enlea's banishment and the most furious ones about the whole scandal. Mythal still didn't have enough evidence to whether the accusations are justified or not.
Her relationship with Enlea was built on good grounds and she did all she could to let it be that way. In her personal opinion, the creature's existence was interesting to say the least. She was special, and Mythal wouldn't want to avoid to kick her out of the village. Letting her wander off, so other clans would claim her for them.
It evokes in her some sort of arrogance, and these feeling plagued Mythal greatly ever since. It was against her beliefs, what she stood for these whole years what rejected her emotions towards the creature. Enlea was an intelligent being and had rights like any other, yet there was this want, and it was just so impossibly infuriating. It was a pesky little feeling that drove her mad every time she thought about it. She wondered when she would give in to the feeling, but feared to imagine what would happen.
She had no clue why, but Enlea had this magical aura around her that forced people to look at her as if some strange power attracted their eyes in her direction or it was her imagination playing games with her. And then there was this singing in the dead of night which judging from Feyrel's report had been coming from Enlea herself.
She sang in an unknown language to a bizarre sound, songs that despite all of that were like a lullaby to its listeners. Her soft voice bewitched the audience to the point they were trapped in their own little dream world until the last words were sung. Something even Mythal didn't have the strength to withstand it. Yet she detected no malice in her singing, only pure emotions that changed with every shift of melody. As if the songstress was baring herself for the world to see.
It brought great comfort listening to her voice, it could heal the pain of the heart in an instant and ease troubled minds. No. It was much more than that. It was like Enlea understood their pain as if it was her own and helped them through it. As if she had experienced it before and wanted to use that to make a connection to them. You could hear the emotions leaving her throat as we speak.
Mythal wished her singing to be neverending, cause it brought forth true light in the darkest times that life had to offer. The light of the world, untainted, innocent like a newborn, the purity of it blinding even the blackest hearts of evil, shinning through the cloak of darkness in people's mind. If only the others wouldn't be so scared of her.
Most of the folk were afraid of her, which was an unreasonable line of thinking since Enlea did nothing to warrant such judgement, but one she can very well understand. People fear the unknown, the uncertainty behind her existence, it has always been like that and it will continue to be like that for generations to come.
Mythal ended up pitying the poor creature for the villager's harsh treatment and isolation. But what could she do to help her? It's nearly impossible to change how people feel about someone as they do. People don't change so easily. She hated her helplessness. Hated that she couldn't do anything about it without crossing the line.
She planned to ask a favour of her most trusted friend Feyrel to protect her if something would occur involving Enlea. Nevertheless, Mythal was pleasantly surprised by Enlea's progress in her language lessons. She picked up their native language quicker than she would have imagined. Her personal teachers spoke in high tones of her being a good student and a quick learner. Mythal's mind sighted in relief to see that there were still people who didn't feel the same about Enlea as the rest of the village.
After what seemed like minutes, Mythal averted her thoughts back at the couple standing patiently in front of her desk.
"What happened to him?" Mythal stood up and went over to the room next to her, and gestured for the pair to follow.
Mythal chose a better-suited setting for negotiations. Her library. She sat down into a chair partly made of the same of wood as the rest of the house and part of soft red silk plus decorated with patterns of their clan crest: a majestic white tree and under its roots, a grotesque of the elven folk.
Alnarel and Eloriel sat down on a couch on the opposite of Mythal, with only a fancy table with a vase with freshly picked flowers in it, separating the space between them. Keeping their hands joined, they once again fixed on the gold-blonde elf before them. And so, the long talk started.
Airrel was on his way home from school once again, humming a melody from a song Enlea sang a night ago. Taking what little comfort he could from the sheer memory of it. If he was being honest, he couldn't go on like this any longer. His want for Enlea grew each passing day since the moment she was taken away from him. And that want only grew when he heard her voice from far away. On top of it, he started to forget what she looked like and that terrified him more than anything. To forget her. To forget her laughter. Her breathtaking appearance and most of all... Her voice.
The thought of losing even that was worse than death. It sent chills down his spine and he felt his breath shudder. Not noticing a group of peers following right behind him. Just as Airrel turned around the corner to a tight street, he was stopped by a strong grip on his shoulder.
"Hey, Airrel!" Shouted an all too familiar voice behind him. It was Zefran and his group. The troublemakers of our class, with Zefran being their head. And right behind him, his loyal partners in trouble. The mastermind behind every mischief: Telan.
A cocky little brat that had a mouth filled with nothing but shit, and was so thin that Airrel swore he was breaking in two whenever he bent down. Next to him was Garen, the perfect opposite of Telan. He had a belly bigger than his head and so thick legs that Airrel couldn't differentiate if it were his muscles or fat. Probably the latter.
The biggest problem in this group was the 'combat talent' Zefran. He already had a body like a soldier and was as skilled as one. He excelled in only one thing at school, and that was our combat lessons. No one could beat him and he had no equal, but in other subjects, he was by far the worst.
He was also popular with the girls, because of his good looks and this arrogant personality of his. It made him appear cool and other boys were too afraid to get beat up by his group to do anything against him. To Airrel, he was nothing but an arrogant prick that always picked a fight with weaker people and bullied them if they resisted. It was a wonder that Airrel was left alone for such a long time, after the scandal and all that. Though he had anticipated that it would come sooner or later.
Wanting to have nothing to do with them. He pushed Zefran's hand off his shoulder. "Let me be." And started walking away.
"Tsk..." Zefran smirked behind his back. A sinister smile playing on his lips.
"You don't seem to get with who you are talking to." Zefran shot knowing looks at Telan and Garen. Gesturing for them to cut off Airrel's only escape route. Airrel didn't bother to answer.
Seeing Telan and Garen moving to block his way out of the gangway, he stopped. Evaluating from the smirks on their ugly faces, they had something in plan for him.
"What do you want?" Airrel faced Zefran. His heart racing in his chest. Despite that, he wouldn't show any signs of fear. He didn't want to give the trio the satisfaction. It was what they wanted. And he wouldn't give it to them.
"Hmm... What do I want? What do I want?" Zefran slowly paced back and forth with his hands tugged in the pockets of his formal breeches.
"Ah... Now I know! You know, I don't like your attitude as of late..." Dark-brown eyes meeting Airrel's sky-blue ones. "Those wild, dangerous glances you throw at everybody mentioning the 'freak creature's' name." The elven boy taunted.
Airrel felt his breath hitch and his muscles tense. Of course, if somebody had to notice, it was them. Despite his fear, he couldn't stop the cold glare from escaping and the anger building up in his mind from the way Zefran called Enlea. He only managed to swallow the gulp in his throat. Letting his peer speaking.
"Now, now... That's not the right way your eyes should meet mine." Zefran reacted to Airrel's cold look, seemingly unaffected by it. He came closer to the silent Airrel, only to punch him with all his might in the stomach.
Airrel had no time to react and took a clean hit to his unguarded abdomen. The moment the punch connected, he bent down in pain. Trying not to vomit from the force of the punch. Recovering from the pain, his mind wasn't quick enough to avoid Telan and Garen from behind. In synch with Zefran's actions, they kicked at the joints of the wounded elf's knees. Forcing Airrel to his knees, and he heard laughter from the two companions. His breeches tarnished with dirt.
Airrel could only gasp for air, as he felt the world around him dimming from the lack of oxygen. Zefran buried his long fingers into the short strands of Airrel's light-blonde hair and dragged his head up, so they made eye-contact.
"This is where our eyes meet." An ominous smile grew on Zefran's lips from the shortage of awareness in the elf's eyes. He let go of Airrel's head, letting it drop towards the ground.
"You've changed, since that incident. Did something happen between you two or..." Zefran smirked. "Was it all the monster's credit?" He whispered not so far from his ear. The anguish etched in Airrel's expression was his answer. Zefran hit the most painful spot. It was hard to think beyond the pain in his gut and legs. Yet he forced his eyelids open and mind to stay awake and not to fell unconscious.
Sensing Airrel's consciousness fading, Zefran retorted back into action and punched him right in the face. Airrel didn't even manage to scream as the fist connected with his jaw. Before he could fall to the ground, Zefran grabbed a fist full of his collar and held him upright.
"What is it, you weakling?! Where are your bold words now, huh?!" Zefran lost his cool. Shaking the beaten down elf erratically into all directions.
"Show me what a man you are! You can't... can you?! Because you're nothing than dirt under my shoes!" Airrel heard the two companions of his behind him chuckle.
"She was only playing with you, like a toy, using you. I am sure that bitch only tried to charm you to bed! She would open up her legs for anybody, I am sure of it! Yet, that whore chose you as her first prey." Zefran taunted.
Airrel perceived the words from the other elf and managed to say a few words from his aching mouth.
"D-don't...ca-ll..."
"Don't -what? I couldn't hear you very well!" Anger started to take Airrel over from the way Zefran kept on mocking him.
"Don't call her like that!" Airrel shouted as loud as his wounds allowed him to.
"Why? Why can't they see? I was the one who brought her into such a situation. I was the one who approached her, over and over again. I was the one who kept on visiting her even when I was forbidden and ignored the risks.
I was THE ONE who was USING HER.
Using her to satisfy my own needs despite the consequences.
Yet she never rejected me.
She kept me in her company. Even though we were nothing more than strangers to each other.
She laughed for me. I swear I haven't heard anything more beautiful.
She smiled for me. A smile that was either brighter than the sun or darker than the depths of the night. I always felt something more behind her smile than she chose to show me, yet couldn't discover what it was.
She sang for me. The moment I perceived her first tone, I became enthralled to the point there was no escape from her spell. The melody danced and turned the world around me into a large palette of different colours. Emotions seeping freely from my grasp of control the way she shifted the tune of her song. It was like she understood my pain, my problems, my struggles, my whole self. With her, I could be myself... no hiding, no pretending, no holding back... just me. Nothing more, nothing less.
After we were caught, the sweet dream ended and reality came into place. I thought: "Now she's going to show her true colours". That after I opened up to her, she would hurt me, throw me away, that everything was nothing but a lie.
Only it wasn't a lie...
No amount of words can describe how happy I was. To have come to understand me, not to judge me, to accept me with all my flaws. And I even used that for my own benefit.
What a selfish bastard I am. But the moment she needed me the most, I couldn't even shoulder the consequences of my own selfish actions. She reversed our roles so she was the criminal and me, the victim. I couldn't do anything for her. And that smile she gave me as they took her away. A reassuring smile that told: 'Don't worry, everything will be fine.' hurt the most. Words died on my tongue the moment I last saw her and my heart stopped beating.
It's all my fault.
Even after all that, after what she had done for me, I couldn't even cope with the thought of being without her. I couldn't deny the feeling of need for her. It was just too powerful. Now I wish I wouldn't have mistrusted her at the beginning and trusted her from the start. It's far too late for regrets. Now I have nothing left to fill the emptiness in my heart, now that Enlea is gone. Only this devouring anger and dare to say hate."
How dare he?!" Airrel lifted his numb arm to grab Zefran's forearm.
"How dare he to call her like that?!" His finger dug painfully in the other elf's skin and Airrel heard him whimper in pain.
"How dare he to judge when he knows nothing?!" And it wasn't just him. Everyone judged her yet they knew nothing of what truly happened.
His anger turned into power and he felt an incomparable strength flowing through his body. Everything he held back this past year, all the emotions, were set free. His head shot up and he clenched his teeth so hard to the point of breaking.
His vision went white and he felt nothing but the burning sensation in his palms. Steam was coming from Airrel's palm which held Zefran in place. The only thing he registered was his peer's screams of agony as the fire burned its way into his flesh.
Zefran cried aloud in pain and struggled to get free from Airrel's grasp. After seconds of effort, he managed to get free and all but threw himself back from the pain coursing through his arm. Leaving his breath short and whimper like a wounded animal. Talen and Garen ran away the moment they saw fire cloaking Airrel's hands.
It was the first time he used fire magic. But couldn't control it very well due to his unstable state of mind. He could work past his own pain only to see Zefran suffer. The tables were turned. Airrel lost it completely.
The heat of the fire was steadily increasing as Airrel's fury grew. To the point, he burned himself. But all that was lost in the satisfaction of seeing Zefran on the ground. Whimpering from his injury. Zefran gathered enough strength to look at his arm. The wound was bone deep and the skin around was scorched.
He lifted his gaze to look at Airrel's lost eyes. Then to his body. The flames were engulfing him like a cloak and the ground beneath him was burned black. Fear filled Zefran's eyes to the brim. As Airrel slowly made his way towards him. All he could do was cry for help.
"HELP! PLEASE, SOMEONE, SAVE ME!"
A few people reacted to this and came running from the corner which Airrel and the others came from. Hearing their footsteps coming closer, was enough to wake him up from his trance. He didn't waste any second and ran away to towards the main gate. As fast as his feet could carry him, he ran and ran through the streets of the inner circle. Leaving a trace of burned dirt in his wake. Some witnesses watched in wonder while most of them panicked from fear and mistook him for an anger demon. They called the guards on him as he stormed out of the village.
"Out of my way!" He ran past the last guards at the main gate, and they had no other choice than to evade him. He didn't want this power anymore. He didn't want to hurt anyone anymore. So he rather escaped to not let this happen. And so he was last seen like a beacon running into the arms of the forest.