As the woman and child walked through the town, stopping at different shops, they talked and laughed. Both of them were having quite a good time. And indeed, Mirel did know how to spoil a child. She bought him everything he asked for, and much, much more.
One of the first places they stopped at was at a clothing store. Moren had been able to wash up and take a bath at the nearby Inn they were staying at, but his clothes were tattered and torn. Mirel took him into the tailor shop and bought him two, brand-new outfits. In those days, two whole new outfits at one time were quite expensive.
Mirel and Moren went from shop to shop, buying little trinkets for Moren. Whatever caught Moren's eye, Mirel bought for him. Moren, new to this whole experience, was overjoyed. But a little five-year-old can't take too much excitement for too long, and eventually Moren began to feel sleepy.
Mirel, realizing that Moren was sleepy, decided to end the shopping spree. She ended the trip early, and took Moren home to her house, where he lay on the sofa and slept peacefully. He woke up about half an hour later to see Mirel sewing on the opposite sofa.
"Grandmum," Moren began, "thank you very much for taking me to town." She smiled at him widely.
"It was my pleasure. I hope we can do it again someday," Mirel said.
"Oh, yes! I would like that!" Moren said, smiling. Mirel paused, as if in thought for a moment.
"Would like to live with me, Moren dear?" Asked Mirel. The boy before her paused, considering.
"No, I don't think so, Grandmum," the five-year-old boy replied. She looked at him slightly confused.
"Why not, dear? If you lived with me, I would buy you all the toys you ever wanted. You would have lots of friends, go to school, and get a good education. Don't you want that, Moren dear?" she asked.
"I like the forest. I like the trees. I like the animals." Moren replied. Mirel was perplexed with his answer. "Besides, what about Momma and Poppa? I want to live with them. I'll always stay with them. Always. I love them. If they move back to this place, I will, too. I love my Momma and Poppa."
"Your father would be welcome to come back. It's your mother that's the trouble," she replied. He looked concerned.
"Oh, no, I could never ever leave my Momma. Momma is beautiful, wise, and gentle. I love Momma more than anything." Moren replied, with a troubled look on his face, just from thinking about leaving his mother.
"Beautiful, wise, and gentle? I see. But wouldn't your mother be more beautiful if she had smooth, ivory skin, and long golden hair, with robes of colorful, expensive cloth and bright jewels adorning her? Instead of her darker, muddy looking skin, with her ratty brown hair, and tattered, muddy, green and brown outfit?
"Wouldn't your mother be wiser if she was well educated as a child, and grew up reading, writing, and learning lore and other important things? Instead of having a petty 'Wood-Elf's' education, which consists of learning about the shrub, the tree and the animal?
"Wouldn't your mother be more gentle if she had grown up in a noble family, and learned from when she was very little how to be a respectable lady? Instead, she was the daughter of a tailor, and never learned the polite, refined dignity of a respectable lady."
"Wouldn't your Momma be better… if she was a High-Elf? If my son had married a noble, respectable, High-Elf, instead of some simple Wood-Elf girl?" Mirel ended, watching the boy's reaction.
"My Momma's the most pretty girl in the world. She could never be prettier. And if Momma wore jewels on her, those jewels wouldn't seem like much after seeing Momma's bright, kind eyes. She doesn't need any jewels.
"If Momma had spent all day studying lore, maybe she wouldn't have learned the important things. Like how kissing a sore spot makes the hurt go away faster, or how adding your love into the food you prepare makes it taste better, or how being with people you love is the greatest treasure in all Norrath. All those things my Momma taught me, and I know they're more important than how to recite history.
"If Momma was a proper lady from a noble family, she might not feel as comfortable when we splash at each other in the rivers, or hide in blackberry bushes when we play hide-and-seek with Poppa, or run around the wide, open forest, playing.
"I love my Momma more than anything else. She's the best Momma in all of Norrath. And I'm glad she's a Wood Elf." Moren ended. Mirel sat still on her sofa.
"I see." She replied.
*********
The next day, Mirel, Rehlan, and Moren went to a parade, which was part of the festival.
"Hello, Rehlan, Moren," Mirel said, waving to her son and grandson.
"Grandmum!" Moren said, running up to Mirel. Moren grabbed onto Mirel's hand, causing Mirel to smile. Then she looked up at Rehlan.
"Where's the Wood Elf?" Mirel asked, seeing Rehlan and Moren alone.
"Kinali said she didn't want to be with so many High Elves. She said she would watch from inside a building where no one could notice her."
"How fortunate," Mirel let slip out, but fortunately the crowd was becoming loud, so Rehlan didn't heard her.
"Oh, look!" Mirel said, pointing to a small stand selling fresh muffins. Rehlan saw her pointing at the muffins and smiled.
"You always had a soft spot for muffins. Let me go buy you one," Rehlan said, making his way through the crowd to the stand before Mirel could tell him not to. Mirel kept a hold of Moren's hand, but as she was distracted by the many soldiers and performers coming down the street, she began to forget about Moren, and her grip slipped until she was touching him no longer.
Moren was excited by all the commotion around him, but he couldn't see over the dense crowds to look at the parade. Suddenly he saw something glitter out of the corner of his eye. There, a ways away from Moren, he saw a boy his own age. There was what appeared to be a diamond the size of his palm in the little boy's hand, and the boy was staring at it with pride. Moren ran up to the boy to take a closer look.
"What's that?" Moren asked the boy. The boy looked at Moren.
"It's a diamond, of course," the boy replied.
"Is it really? A real diamond?" Moren said in awe.
"Of course, silly. Who are you, anyway? You look weird," the boy said. Moren was taken aback.
"I'm Moren, son of Rehlan and Kinali An'tomahi."
"That tells me a lot. Wait, what was that name? Kinali? I've never heard that name before. It's certainly not a common High Elf name," the boy said.
"Why, it's not a High Elf name at all!" Moren said. "Kinali is my mother. She's a Wood Elf," Moren said plainly. The other boy gasped.
"You mean…" the boy said, whispering to Moren in a hushed voice, "You mean, you're half WOOD ELF?!" Moren was confused why he was so worked up over it.
"Well…Yes…I am…" Moren said, a little unsure. Suddenly the boy laughed into Moren's face.
"No wonder you're so silly! You're…half Wood Elf! And that's why you were gawking over this fake diamond: you've never seen one before! You haven't have you? I'm sure you haven't. Anyone who had seen a real diamond before wouldn't mistake this piece of QUARTZ for a DIAMOND!" the boy said, laughing at Moren. Moren's eyes began to swell up with tears.
"Wood Elf's aren't silly! And I've seen lots of jewels before!" Moren said in defense. By now two other boys, both also the same age as Moren, came over to see whom their friend was talking to. After the boy told the other boys about Moren, all three of them began to laugh at the poor, crying boy. Moren had never been teased this severely, and it hurt him deep inside. Suddenly he saw a cloaked woman in front of him, calling his name. She looked like she was in panic, but she couldn't see Moren through the crowds of people. Immediately Moren recognized the woman and pushed through the crowds to get to her. She kept wandering about nervously, calling for him. He tried to call back to her, but the crowd was too loud.
"Momma! MOMMA!" Moren cried, pushing through the crowds. Suddenly she stopped in her tracks and turned around.
"Moren!" she called as she spotted the young boy crawling under the crowds. She picked him up, the hood of her cloak falling down, with tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Moren! Oh, my angel! I saw you disappear into the crowd when I was watching from the building. I came out to find you, but you were no where to be found! Oh, Moren, my little angel! I was so worried!" Kinali, his mother, choked out, holding the young boy in her arms. Moren was still sobbing from the boys' teasing, but being held by his mother comforted him.
Suddenly Moren noticed that many of the High Elves around them were staring and pointing at them. He could hear them pretty clearly, even through the noise of the crowd, for they showed no attempt to hush their voices.
"Look! It's a Wood Elf!" said one, pointing.
"A Wood Elf? In Felwithe? Isn't there a law against that or something? We must keep these inferior races out of the city, or their habits will rub off on our own children!"
"Wait, is that boy she's holding High Elf or Wood Elf? Wait…Oh no, don't tell me… He's a half, isn't he?"
"Great Tunare, I think he is a half!"
"Now they should definitely be outlawed from the city."
The talking and pointing of the High Elves apparently didn't escape Kinali's notice, either, and she pulled her hood over her head as she went to go find Rehlan and Mirel to tell them Moren was safe.
***********
Moren rolled onto his side, resting his head on his arm as he watched the campfire before him. These were painful memories, indeed. On his very first visit to Felwithe, he was made fun of by boys his own age. What hurt so much about it was that he had never met any boys his own age before. He was so young and innocent. No one had ever said anything to hurt his feelings before that, because he had never known anyone except his parents. It was just cruel that they would make fun of him; it just crushed him. He never got over it, even to this day. Maybe it was silly for him to get so emotional over it, but it had made a deep wound when he was a child, and if anything, the wound had become bigger and bigger, rather than healing itself.
After that incident, he began to dislike Felwithe. In fact, he hated it. Those little boys… Those little Felwithe boys… They were cruel. All Felwithe was cruel. They had crushed his world when he was little. They hated him, and he hated them. And that's how it would always be. He would never go back to Felwithe.
He suddenly stood up, blinking back tears. He looked around the camp to distract his mind from those sad thoughts. Again, his eyes unconsciously rested on Arelle. He quietly walked up to her sleeping form and sat down next to her, cross-legged. He had never told Arelle all the reasons he hated Felwithe. She had never asked him more about his past, for she must have known it was painful for him to recall those memories. She was so mature for her age. Always thinking of others, always being so kind.
Arelle was an outcast, too, he knew. She had run away, just like himself. Maybe that was why he felt so close to her? They were so similar in some ways. Silently, he touched her warm face with his hand. She was so cute when she took her hair down from her ponytail before she went to sleep. He wished she would always leave her long hair down, flowing about her always. But she was so active during the day, he knew it would get in her way.
Suddenly he saw her fist clench tight, and he heard her breathing become heavy and uneven. He frowned. She must've been having another nightmare. She had them all the time, and sometimes she awoke screaming. He looked down at her, wishing to comfort her.
"I will always protect you, Arelle," Moren whispered into her ear as she slept. "I will always protect you."