Chapter Eight
Knave looked out, towards where the sea water seemed to meet the sky, forming a blurry line of different shades of blue and green. Few clouds were present right above them, but the menacing mass of thick storm clouds to the right threatened to close in on them quickly, since that was where the winds were blowing from. He could see sudden flashes traversing that mass, drawing lines of white that quickly faded away again – lightning in the distance.
The mage was troubled, and not only because of the likely possibility of that storm. He was leaning against a couple of crates piled up along others alike, his arms crossed on his chest and his expression grim. From time to time, he would glance at the gold elf cradled between the wooden cubes and wrapped up in a blanket, somewhere between actual sleep and daydreaming.
It was around the middle of their second day at sea, and Nirra was, as expected, not feeling well at all. Of course, she had gotten used to this state already, and it only made her drowsy and slightly less full of life than she usually presented herself. However, the mage had faithfully stayed by her side most of the time, tending to whatever needs she might have had – not that many, in truth.
As for Torri, the moon elf was finally asleep, after the exhaustion had grown into too much for her to handle. She had kept her lack of sleep a secret from Nirra, in order not to trouble her more than was needed; Knave had attempted to convince her to rest a couple of times before that, but Torri had mentioned 'memories coming back'. The mage had been curious, and still was, but she would say no more and he didn't wish to trouble the gold elf with it either. However, the atmosphere between the three of them was, overall, either tense or distant. All had their own worries and insecurities which they weren't yet ready to share; the only difference was that Torri allowed them to torment her, while the other two had merely postponed theirs until their importance made it necessary that they should be revealed.
"Think that storm will catch up?" Nirra asked, frowning though her eyes were still closed, a glint of worry managing to sneak beyond the sleepiness she was using as a mask.
"It might," Knave gave her a brief glance. "The captain would know better."
Silence reigned for a few moments, with the human mage shifting his weight constantly, insecure and undecided. Finally, he seemed to pick something from the list of things he could say at that point. "I was curious..." he began testily. When Nirra opened her eyes and smiled, bidding him to continue, his tone grew firmer. "You keep referring to Suldanessellar as 'your home', and to its inhabitants as 'your people'. I thought it was a mainly wood elven settlement, and you don't look..."
Nirra interrupted him, with a small gesture and a nod. "I am of the Ar'Tel'Quessir," she replied. "A gold elf. And Suldanessellar is, indeed, wood elven, at least in origin. In fact, it serves as a meeting place for many wandering elves, or emissaries of the different tribes. However, I grew up in Suldanessellar, which makes it my home, indeed, and its inhabitants my people, regardless of what they are."
"That's a strange approach for one of your kind," Knave mused, careful not to cross any lines or look like he was offending her. Generally, gold elves were proud and thought themselves superior, since they had supposedly been chosen to guard the old ways of the elven kind.
"I know," she accepted, with a light shrug. "It took Torri a few years to get used to this. I don't expect you to just cope with it from the start. I thought you would ask, sooner or later."
The mage nodded. "Curiosity tends to be an essential trait for a mage," he chuckled. "However, if I am prying into anything, you may tell me so."
"You aren't," Nirra smiled warmly, comfortingly. "I understand, being a mage myself, although the elven approach is slightly different on the topic."
"Tell me, then," Knave went pensive again. "What is it, exactly, that you two are doing wandering the Realms together?"
"I'm not sure, to tell the truth," Nirra laughed lightly. "For 'together', that's quite simple. Torri and I go far back, about 30 years ago. A lot, even for elves, especially because we would spend each day together infallibly." She paused a little, before continuing, to smile upon remembering the oddity that had occurred between them – somehow, Torri had taken on aspects that would have been expected to appear in a gold elf, and Nirra had assumed some moon elven traits. Others had remained as they should have been. "But why exactly it is that we're traveling," she continued, "I couldn't tell. Originally, I just followed my friend, because I did not want to part. Moon elves are known for their restlessness and love of adventure. My kind isn't like that, but I've adapted, because I could no longer imagine living away from my friend."
"It is refreshing to see such strong bonds still form between the sentient," Knave continued reasoning. "There is little friendship to be found in the world nowadays, even less than love."
"How about you?" the gold elf inquired. "What brought you to this life?"
"I'm afraid my story is less unusual than yours," he replied, a strange glimmer in his eyes for a moment. "I merely walked in my father's wake. My mother tried to stop me, afraid that I would have the same fate... you see, that was where he died – adventuring." Knave shrugged; he was obviously at peace and resigned with the fact, and had been so for a long while. "I eventually ran from home to join a band of already seasoned adventurers."
"It would appear that you are the seasoned one now," Nirra pointed out.
"I've seen many things," he admitted, although a bit of reluctance from his part was visible, should he be required to go more in-depth on the subject.
They were interrupted from furthering their discussion, however, by Captain Belvert, who had just arrived at their side and had politely cleared his throat, preferring that to any other type of interruption. "You might've seen there's a storm comin'," he warned. "It'll be catchin' us in no time, so you'd better be prepared."
"We've noticed, but were uncertain whether we would be able to elude it," Knave nodded, grateful that he had been made aware of the facts. "Thank you for warning us."
"Tis nay but a small one," the sailor assured him. "We'll make it outta its grasp jus' fine." With that, the man departed, and went to prepare his men with proper instructions.
"That's good news," Knave reasoned, turning back to Nirra. "If the captain wasn't worried about the storm, then surely it's nothing important."
Nirra nodded, even as both of them were once more looking at the gathering of clouds, now considerably closer to them and still coming in fast, the water itself darkening below.
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Torri's wasn't exactly sleep, as one would normally define it. The moon elf dared not lose herself from the world completely, even for a few moments, and instead had chosen to deceive her weariness with this combination of awareness and unconsciousness – she was ready, however, to jump to her feet in an instant, should the need arise.
She hadn't mentioned any of her strange feelings and worries to the others – she saw no reason to encumber them, especially Nirra, who wasn't feeling well, in such a way. Her gold elven friend knew of the dream that haunted her from time to time; it was nothing more than a recollection of something that had happened long ago. Oddly enough, the conscious moon elf could not recall much of it; somehow, it was as if the entire experience had indeed been nothing but a distant dream she was forgetting gradually, but some scars on her body begged to differ. However, whenever the memory came to weigh upon her sleep, Torri was forced to live through it all, again and again, as if she were there once more. Lately, the intervals between the times the dream came back had grown.
The moon elf sighed, and begrudgingly rolled over to her other side, in order to get rid of the numbness in the arm she had been heaving upon so far. A series of familiar stinging erupted all along her every muscle, but she didn't pay attention to such a trivial sensation. There was a change in the air, slipping closer slowly, but there nonetheless. Torri was perfectly able to recognize the approach of a storm.
She sat up, and looked over at the sky, spotting the clouds at once; the crew didn't look particularly distressed, and she reasoned it wasn't anything severe. Groaning with displeasure, she lay back down, pulling the blanket tightly around her and closing her eyes once more.
Cursed drow. They all deserved to die.
