A short, confused Struggle at close Quarters

After my excursion outside, I resigned myself to the confines of our tent again for some time, sweeping and cleaning to the best of my abilities. During which I've made great strides in comprehending the elvish language.

Isha has been a lot more subdued and calmer lately, taking more deliberate care in teaching me. It seems she too was changed by the sights we've seen. With her not just being a walking barrage of annoyance at her situation anymore, I've started to realise we are indeed connected on a deeper level.

Being basically bilingual now, multilingual even if you count the languages from the old world, whenever my thoughts slip into Elvish, she can hear and understand them. In turn, her emotions keep flowing into me. Her deep sorrow is palpable whenever reminded of the state the elves are in right now. Her seething anger is unmistakable when thinking about what the humans have done and are currently doing. Her growing frustration is almost tangible when confronted with the fact she has no body of her own and can't really do anything other than be there for me.

"We need to go outside. Wasting away in here won't help Rinah."

I am well aware, Isha, but Mother is starchily against the idea of letting me go outside on my own. Whenever I bring up the idea to her, she immediately shoots it down. Her stance on this is quite understandable, I might add. She's very worried about her son, the very same son that the other elves despise and wasn't smart enough to keep his head down around the humans. I really don't want to add to her worries by going behind her back to venture outside.

"And yet, if you even wish to dream about escaping with her, we need to act. You hear her coughing at night, her health only getting worse with every passing day."

I can't deny it. While she wasn't the picture of health to begin with, her skin grows more cracked as the days go by. Though she tries her best to suppress her growing cough, as soon as she thinks I've fallen asleep, that excessive coughing of hers may very well be heard from 20 tents over. She's also certainly not getting enough to eat, trying her best to also feed me. With me going through a few growth spurts lately, she's been giving more and more of our already small rations to me, starving herself to the bone. Sitting still is truly killing me...

"She will die if you don't do anything—"

"I KNOW!!"

That one morsel of my soul escaped my thoughts, and I screamed it with all the might my vocal cords could muster. In Elvish, I have to add. Not the smartest move here; I should take greater care to keep my feelings in check. But Isha is right; I won't let that inevitable day come. Again she caresses my face.

"I just cannot bear to watch Mother die here. I refuse..."

"We will find a way. Let's try to find that other girl, the other half-elf. If she's crafty enough to steal and not be caught, she might know of other ways to make do, even as a little kid. Getting food and water on our own would lessen the burden on Rinah. Or she could tell us more about this city."

And so it came to be like it had to. A few days later, once Mother had left for the mine, I sneaked out. Stepping outside, I immediately feel the heat. It was already uncomfortable in the tent, but now, with it being midday, the sun pelts mercilessly at almost a 90-degree angle right down at me. Last time, we went out during the later hours of the day, so the air had a bit of time to cool itself. This scorching heat is torture, though.

Pushing onwards, I home in on the spot where I saw her last time. As good a place to start searching as I'll get.

Nope, the crate she was sitting on that evening is very much empty. Great. My great plan's already falling apart at the seams. I couldn't even call for her; I don't know her name. Oh, well, directionless exploring it is.

Seeing the squalor around us, Isha seems to get melancholic again. Maybe now I should have that heart-to-heart that's long overdue...

"I'm sorry for lashing out at you earlier. I just feel so... powerless."

"I know how it feels to have to watch powerlessly as everything that matters to you is taken away from you. Don't worry, Isayah, I do not blame you."

"Did you also lose something of importance once?"

"I think I did, but when I try to remember, nothing comes to me but visions of a burning tree..."

She gazes into the distance, the sadness she's feeling hitting me akin to an icy gale. So strong and frigid, one wouldn't be remiss thinking she could never feel joy again.

"My past in general is nothing but a blur; I remember fire. After that I remember your mother crying and you almost dying from sickness. Before that, only nothingness..."

Amnesia, huh? Must be rough. I do wonder what Isha is exactly.

"The language you've taught me, as Mother told me, is elvish. Maybe that means you are an elf, or at least were one?"

She appears deep in thought. She first appeared to me after that awful fever, the one where I saw her and the tree in my dreams. It would be plausible, an elf dying when this world-tree burnt, now still haunting the world after her death. Not all that surprising. When you consider me being here in this world at all, the concept of lingering spirits doesn't seem far-fetched...

"Maybe so. It would explain why it hurts me to see all these elves here suffering. Or maybe I am just a righteous soul..."

I think that last part was her attempt at sarcasm, though I am not quite sure. Although my ghastly, elvish-speaking companion doesn't remember her past, I am truly grateful to have her with me. I don't even have to speak the words in my mind; she has already received my heartfelt feelings. And I needn't wonder if she feels this way too, for I already know...

By now we've reached the wider paths. They are emptier, with most people either working the mines or staying inside due to the heat. I think I hear the kids playing again, a good distance away. Less laughter this time, though. More pained groans as well. Might be my cue to go and check out what's different this time.

As I turned the final corner, the following scene revealed itself to me:

There she stood, the very same half-elf I've been searching for. Her dirty, short blonde hair glistening in the sunlight. Her piercing blue eyes, not unlike sapphires, staring in defiance. Bruises all over her face and body, she's clearly in pain, but with unwavering determination, she's still standing.

In her hand, a wooden stick, slightly discoloured by what I can only assume to be blood. Across from her, the source of said blood: three familiar elven boys with similar wooden implements, clearly in an even worse shape than their opponent. A fourth one lies to the side on the ground reeling, already defeated.

The loss of their comrade seems to have left quite the impression on the remaining three, who are hesitating to advance. I suddenly remember that in a video game I once played, the final boss told you, "Hesitation is defeat!"

With them not pressing their advantage, the she-beast pounces, striking the one to her left in one swift motion, hitting him right in the temple. He too is out for the count, dropping his stick and stumbling backwards, holding his head in pain.

And now we're back to square one, the very same standoff I found here, but with one less elf still in fighting shape. Realising the odds are quickly turning against them, one of the two charges her, locking her in brutal melee combat. While those two are going at it, the other one gains a dastardly smirk on his face and begins sneaking around, trying to stay in her blind spot.

"Shouldn't you intervene or at least warn her?"

I don't know; should I? The elves certainly do dislike me already, but standing against them now will make that even worse. I did come here to speak with her, and just watching while they beat her to a pulp wouldn't make that great of an impression. Oh well, I'm going all in on the half-elf. I sure hope I don't regret this later.

I think there was a quote about this I heard in my old world: “Attack where the enemy is unprepared; appear where you are not expected.” Was that Sun Tzu? I don't remember. Anyway, our sneaky little elf likely came to the same conclusion in that small head of his, sticking to the she-elf's blind spot. Let's see if he's smart enough to catch on...

I saunter on over, keeping to his back. The pained groaning and crying of the defeated masking my steps, I pass by one of the discarded sticks, obtaining the implement of the dastardly deed I am about to do.

As I suspected, while sneaking in someone else's blind spot, he'd never check his own. Now behind him I raise my weapon to… to what exactly? Where should I even strike him? Blunt force trauma is no joke. I don't want to injure the kid, at least not badly. Disarming him should be enough. Hand it is!

WHACK

Emerging from behind him with one swift blow, I strike his hand. Yowling loudly, he drops his stick and recoils in pain. I hope I didn't break anything.

Hearing his one remaining companion get wounded, the one locked in combat with her loses his focus ever so slightly, but enough to immediately get one straight to the head. Realising this battle may be lost, they run with their tails between their legs, so to speak.

After that, this spectacle of a few children beating each other up with sticks has truly come to an end. My would-be sister-in-arms brushes herself off and turns to the defeated.

"AND DON'T TRY THAT AGAIN!"

Now looking at me, a look of recognition flashes across her face.

"Oh, I know you! Thanks for helping me; I've never seen another girl fight like that!"

I am already regretting my decision...