4
John woke this time to feel the weight of something on the end of his bed. He looked down, surprised that his body was actually listening to him now, to see the tall man who had saved him before. He noticed that he didn't ache anymore. He was about to speak when the man turned round and caused the doctors breath to catch in his throat. The figure had high cheekbones and piercingly light blue eyes. His skin was pale in tone and, even from the distance, John could tell it was soft. What was the most unnerving feature was his ears, which each ended in a point that poked through his dark curly hair. The man seemed to know the effect he had caused immediately and fluently stood from the bed, then made his way to a stool which jutted out from one of the walls at the other side of the room. John realised his mistake as soon as the man had stood up and silently admonished himself for it, surely he knew better than to judge by looks? At this, the figure seemed to relax slightly, though he didn't return to where he had sat before. John's forehead creased with confusion.
'Why?' He asked the figure. The man leaned back
'That could be any number of questions you are asking.' John nodded and spoke again,
'Why did you save me? You don't even know me.' The man hesitated.
'Because I was there and I have made it my mission to kill any Ra'zac I come across.' The doctor was a little put down by this comment, though he tried to not let it show on his face. The tall male looked at him and seemed to see all the questions which seemed to flow freely from the blond man. 'I suppose I should introduce myself to you, John Hamish Watson, I am Sherlock Holmes, one of fifty three elves which inhabit the elven city of Osilon and I am also the only known dragon rider in living among the trees of Du Weldenvarden.' There was so much information that it took John a while to realise what had been said. He didn't know what he found more disturbing; that this man, Sherlock, knew his name or that he was supposedly a dragon rider. The elf part, he had worked out for himself but he didn't quite know where to start when it came to follow up questions.
'I entered your mind, that's how I know your name. I'm sorry but I had to before you would be allowed to enter, even at that it was a struggle to again your acceptance. Morrisa is practically itching to meet you consciously, she hasn't left my thoughts since we found you.' The doctor's face became clouded with confusion which caused the elf to smirk, 'No, you won't be able to hear her unless she enters your mind-which she can do at any time she wishes-I asked her not to until you've seen her because even other elves sometimes have problems with her entering their mind.' John nodded, he could see how having a voice suddenly appear in your head could cause mild discomfort…or insanity.
Sherlock Holmes had sat back on the bed somewhere amongst the in-depth conversation, John wasn't quite sure where. They talked for what seemed like hours, it turned out that though the elf had said he had done a thorough search of the humans mind, he had merely looked at the surface. He valued the privacy of ones mind and preferred to find out about John through verbal communication. Because of this, John found that he couldn't help but open himself up. This man had had the chance to learn everything about him, every single dark little secret, and he hadn't because he respected the privacy of this person he hardly knew. That was something that inspired trust, John had never truly trusted anyone before but he felt himself falling, opening the door in his mind which had been padlocked since he was a child. It was about time he let someone in, it didn't matter that that someone wasn't the same species. Sherlock was enraptured by his tales of life in the human world, he seemed thoroughly interested in every mundane thing that happened there. When the question and answer session had finished, the elf stood and turned to the human on his bed, offering his hand. John took it gladly and they walked down the stairs, the blond soon realised that the room he had been in was a sort of treehouse, though how it was made he'd doubted if he'd ever know. The pair walked through what seemed to be a great city of treehouses yet not another being was in sight, John looked at the man he was with, the tall male seemed to move so gracefully it was hard to believe that he wasn't actually floating. He also appeared to want to walk faster, the doctor remembered the tales they were told as children. These said that the elves could run so fast that they seemed to disappear completely. John upped his pace, which was easily matched by the other. The two stopped when they reached a large clearing in the trees. Sherlock looked up to the sky and John followed his gaze to see a dark shadow block the sun as it made it's way downward to the ground.