Vol. III Chapter V: Findergwyn

Three days had passed since fire and chaos had rolled through the streets of Shazar-Zul, and the ground had trembled beneath the hooves of an enraged satyr.

Three days since they had escaped, together with dozens of other prisoners.

Their wagon was one of three, loaded with former slaves, political captives, and the few supplies they had managed to grab from the guards' storerooms.

The convoy rattled through a narrow ravine, its cliffs lined with gnarled trees and cracked stone. The draft beasts snorted in exhaustion. The air was dry and thick with dust.

Liviana gripped the reins of the lead wagon tightly, while Isari and Melissa sat at the back, alert, their ears twitching at every sound.

“How much longer?” Melissa finally asked, her hooves swinging lazily off the edge.

Isari squinted at the low-hanging sun, then pointed west.

“If he’s right, we’ll reach the border in two days.”

“If he’s right…” Liviana muttered, glancing back over her shoulder.

There, on the wagon bed, wedged between two grumpy Selvarin, sat the elf.

Tall and slender, with bluish-gray skin like cold marble. His long, raven-black hair was bound by a thin silver circlet, and his violet eyes were calm, unreadable. His ears were long and pointed, like all elves.

He was the one who had shown them the hidden tunnel beneath the outer wall, and offered to lead them safely to his homeland, the realm of the dark elves.

He smiled nonchalantly when he caught Liviana’s skeptical tone.

“Don’t worry. What reason would I have to lie to you?” He lifted his shoulders in mock innocence. “I was just as much a prisoner of those dreadful barbarians as you were!”

The wheels creaked as the wagon bumped across uneven ground. Between the hoofbeats of the draft animals and the soft whisper of the wind, a tense calm settled over the group.

Liviana glanced back again. Her eyes stayed fixed on the dark elf.

“I don’t trust him,” she said quietly.

“Why not?” Melissa asked curiously, still swinging her hooves.

Liviana shrugged.

“Because his kind burned our villages. Because they slaughtered our ancestors. Because they once tried to enslave us, just like the Yashari do now. Take your pick.”

“Oh, I see…” Melissa replied, now casting a suspicious look of her own at the elf.

The dark elf raised his hands in a pacifying gesture.

“Your distrust is justified. But that was long ago. The Yashari are our mutual enemies now.”

He let his gaze wander across the rugged landscape, then added solemnly,

“And when we arrive in Vinfalas, they will welcome you not as strangers, but as honored allies. I promise.”

“Vinfalas…” Melissa repeated thoughtfully. “Sounds like wine.”

“Not far off,” the elf replied with a small smile.

“That’s where we make our famous Mistblossom Wine, refined with Haladris dust and spices from the Mist Isles. Served with dark bread, soft flowered-cheese, pickled mushrooms, and braised harras-meat in wine sauce.”

“...Pickled mushrooms…” Melissa echoed dreamily, her eyes shining as if she could see the feast already. A bit of drool trickled down her lip, which she quickly wiped away with the back of her hand.

Excited, she scooted closer to the elf.

“And for dessert? What do they serve for dessert?!”

He smiled calmly, answering slowly, as if letting her savor it in her imagination:

“...Sweet shimmerberries on cloud waffles, topped with whipped cream and warm caramel sauce.”

Melissa clapped her hands.

“Liviana! Hurry the animals! I don’t think I can survive another two days!”

Liviana groaned.

“He could pour poison into the wine right in front of you, and you’d still drink it…”

“Depends how good the wine is!” Melissa shot back.

They laughed, and even Liviana couldn’t hold back a quiet chuckle.

“What was your name again?” Melissa asked, clearly more interested in the elf now than before.

He cleared his throat, placed a fist to his chest, and gave an elegant bow, letting strands of his long hair fall across his face.

“Findergwyn Tenebriskael’as, at your service. But you, may call me Fin.”

Isari gave the elf a skeptical glance.

“And just how exactly did you end up as a prisoner of the Yashari?” she asked, one brow raised.

Findergwyn’s smile remained, but his eyes cooled slightly.

“I was part of a delegation for peace negotiations. At a banquet… I slapped one of their high priests. For making an extremely vulgar remark about one of my companions.”

He sighed dramatically.

“I admit, it was... unwise. But I have no regrets.”

Melissa grinned.

“You’re growing on me.”

The ravine narrowed, and the light dimmed. Shadows crept along the rocks as the wind picked up, sharper, colder, a herald of the coming night.

“We should start setting up camp,” Liviana said. “The animals need rest. And so do we.”

Melissa was the first to jump from the wagon, stretching long and wide. Her strong goat legs popped faintly with the motion.

A small fire was lit. Rations were shared. Dried flatbread, salty cheese, water, and whatever else they could spare from the looted Yashari supplies.

Melissa let her eyes wander over the camp. The usual lightness had faded from her face.

Refugees. Strangers. Tired eyes.

She looked up at the sky. Behind the cloud-covered stars lay a worry she couldn’t shake. A worry that revolved around one person.

Where are you, Lucius? Do you even know you're walking into a trap by looking for me?

She hadn’t seen Nazirul during their escape. He was likely already on his way to Tiberun with most of the soldiers.

The chance to stop him had slipped through her fingers.

“I shouldn’t be here,” she whispered.

Liviana looked over.

“You’re thinking about him.”

Melissa nodded.

“I know he’ll come looking for us. And I know… he’ll walk straight into their trap.”

Her fingers curled tightly into the fur on her legs.

“I have to find him. Before it’s too late.”

Liviana was silent for a moment, then said quietly,

“And what will you do? Leave us behind? These people need you. Without you, we won’t make it to the border.”

“I…” Melissa hesitated.

Findergwyn, who had been listening, stepped closer to them.

“She’s right. The borders of my realm are heavily guarded. Alone, they wouldn’t stand much chance. But you were wise to choose this path. It’s not the fastest way… but it is the safest. And if you must continue on to Tiberun to find this Lucius, then the best route will be through Vinfalas and the northern passes.”

Melissa said nothing. Her eyes lingered on the huddled figures around the fire. Humans. Selvarin. Others whose names she didn’t even know. And yet, their hopes clung to her.

Slowly, her hands unclenched. She drew a long breath.

“Alright,” she said at last.

Then she pointed straight at the dark elf.

“But those pickled mushrooms better be waiting for me!”

Findergwyn smiled.

“As many as you can eat.”

Melissa snorted softly and dropped to the ground.

The wind carried the scent of fire into the night, and with it, a whisper of hope.