Haven's Crest

The three continued down the path in silence, Oreon gritting his teeth against the pain as the two Elven sisters watched him closely.

Oreon took another step, but his ankle buckled beneath him. Before he could hit the ground, Sylvanie caught his wrist and steadied him, slowly helping him until he could lean on her with an arm around her shoulders.

"Don't misunderstand," She muttered. "If you collapse, we'll have to carry you, and I'm not in the mood for that."

Blinking in surprise, Oreon steadied himself against her. "...Thanks," he said quietly, genuinely meaning it despite the gruff delivery.

Sylvanie kept her eyes ahead as they walked, saying nothing at first. Then she gave a soft huff. "Yeah, well... don't mention it. And I mean that—say one word, and I'm dropping you."

Celestia watched them with a small, knowing smile before moving to Oreon's left side. "Here." She took his other arm and draped it over her shoulders. "This will be easier."

Oreon glanced from one elf to the other, then lowered his eyes as they helped him forward. "I... uh...I can walk on my own. Really...You don't have to—"

"We know," Celestia answered back, slightly glancing over at Oreon. "Your ankle is clearly injured, and you've been favoring it since we were thrown out of the clearing." She added, turning her head forward as they moved slowly. "Pride won't help you if you collapse halfway to town."

"Besides, no matter what you say," Sylvanie chimed in, "we're doing this anyway. So, keep quiet and accept the help, human. It won't happen often."

Oreon opened his mouth to protest again, then closed it with a resigned sigh. "...Fine." He muttered, defeated as he kept his eyes on the ground.

For a while, the trio walked in silence, accompanied only by the crunch of leaves underfoot, distant birdsong, and the soft rustle of the bushes.

"So..." Sylvanie said, breaking the silence with a more casual tone. "That story you told us...about your mother and sister. You knew about the Elven settlements, and your mother let you two go there alone...to learn from them?" She hesitated, searching for the right words as she glanced at him.

"Yeah," Oreon said quietly, eyes fixed on the path ahead. "My mother was friends with them—with a lot of non-humans, really—but she was closest to the elves. The settlements treated Alice and me like family. Whenever Mother was away, they watched over us and taught us whatever they could: their history, how they differed from humans and other races, magic, combat, healing." He let out a small sigh. "Alice learned it all faster than I did. I guess my older sister was the real prodigy. Me? I mostly just wanted to swing Mother's daggers around."

Celestia's expression softened as she looked at him. "Your mother sounds extraordinary," she said gently. "Few humans would befriend elves, much less trust them with their children."

"Yeah, she was something special, alright," Oreon replied, his voice full of grief that even made Sylvanie glance over him with a bit of sympathy. "She didn't see the world the way some humans do, the way my father does. She believed...that we were all just people trying to survive. That race didn't matter as much as character."

"A rare perspective indeed," Celestia murmured.

"Especially in this world," Sylvanie added, her tone surprisingly subdued. "Most humans we've encountered would sooner spit on us than speak to us." Her eyes glanced down a bit before returning to her usual expression. "Present company excluded, apparently."

Oreon gave a weak chuckle. "Yeah, well...my mother made sure we knew better. She'd have our butts if we ever treated anyone differently just because of what they were." He paused, his expression darkening. "My father... didn't share that view at all."

"Clearly," Sylvanie muttered dryly. "Our home can attest to that."

Oreon winced, guilt flashing across his face. "I'm...sorry. For what it's worth—what he did to your people, your home—" He swallowed hard. "I know 'sorry' doesn't mean much, but—"

"You're right," Sylvanie cut in, her voice sharp, though not as cruel as it could have been. "It doesn't." She kept her eyes ahead. Celestia glanced at her sister but chose silence, turning forward as the two elves helped Oreon toward the edge of the forest.

As they stepped beyond the forest's edge, the small town of Haven's Crest came into view. Wisps of smoke curled from the chimneys, and most of the townspeople already seemed to have turned in for the night.

"Good," Oreon said through a grimace, scanning the quiet streets as pain tightened across his face. "Doesn't look like many people are out. This might go better than we expected."

Celestia followed his gaze, taking in the quiet streets and dimly lit windows. "A blessing, perhaps," she said softly. "Though I imagine our appearance will still draw attention regardless."

"Oh, definitely," Sylvanie agreed with a smirk, glancing down at her tattered garments again. "Two elves in slave rags helping a limping human through town? We'll be the talk of the tavern by morning." She paused, narrowing her eyes slightly at Oreon. "That's assuming anyone even lets us in anywhere."

Oreon let out a deep breath. "Just keep your voice down and don't do anything...You would do."

Sylvanie raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. "Anything I would do? That's a pretty broad category, human. You'll have to be more specific."

"You know exactly what I mean," Oreon replied, wincing as his ankle throbbed again. "No picking fights, no sarcastic comments to the locals, no—"

"No fun whatsoever?" Sylvanie finished for him, a hint of mock disappointment in her voice. "Got it."

Celestia sighed softly. "We'll behave," she assured Oreon, though she shot her sister a pointed look. "Won't we, Sylvanie?"

"Sure, sure," the dark elf replied with an exaggerated wave of her free hand. "I'll be the picture of civility. Scout's honor."

"You don't even know what that means," Oreon said flatly.

"Doesn't matter, I'm still promising it."

Oreon groaned, already regretting everything as he looked ahead. "There's a tavern around this corner. Take a left here." He nodded toward the bend, and the trio slowly made their way toward the building near the town center. A few townspeople watched them pass without a word, but their wary stares were enough to set the group on edge.

Sylvanie felt every stare press against her, her jaw tightening as they passed a group of men lingering near a cart. One spat on the ground as they went by—not at them, but close enough for the insult to land.

Across the street, a woman standing in a doorway pulled her child closer as they approached. She whispered something to the boy, then hurried inside and shut the door behind them. In the quiet street, the latch clicked far louder than it should have.

"Just...keep moving," Oreon said quietly, his voice strained. "We're almost there."

Celestia stayed silent and gave a small nod, her expression calm despite the uncomfortable scrutiny. Still, Oreon felt her grip tighten around his arm—just enough to tell him she was not as composed as she looked.

"Up ahead," Oreon said as the tavern came into view, its sign—The Broken Barrel—hanging crookedly from the wall. "Let's go, and remember what I said...no trouble." He glanced at Sylvanie.

Sylvanie gave a quiet grunt as they stepped inside. The tavern's warmth wrapped around them, heavy with the scent of roasting meat, spilled ale, and sweet pipe smoke. Conversations faltered as curious eyes turned their way, and a hush settled over the room. Sylvanie instinctively moved closer to Oreon, her body tensing, while Celestia did the same, calmly scanning each human in the room.

A hulking, over-muscled man suddenly shoved himself up from his seat. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" he drawled, arrogance dripping from every word.

The man's voice sliced through the tavern, drawing every eye toward Oreon and the Elven sisters. He was built like an ox, with broad shoulders, thick arms, and a gut that suggested he had spent as many nights drinking as brawling. A scar cut down the left side of his face, disappearing into his rough, shaved beard. Behind him, four other men rose from their seats—smaller, but no less threatening.

"Didn't know this place was lettin' in strays now," the man continued, his gaze sliding from Oreon to the two elves at his sides. His eyes lingered on their tattered clothes, and a wolfish grin spread across his face. "Especially pointy-eared ones."

Oreon gritted his teeth as he looked up at the broad-shouldered man. "Come on, Grog. Not now." He winced slightly.

Grog let out a bark of laughter, slapping one of his companions on the shoulder. "Hear that, boys? Not now, he says!' He took a heavy step forward, his boots thudding against the wooden floor. "You got some nerve walkin' in here with them, boy. What? You became some kind of Elf-lover while you were off playing hero?"

The tavern fell deathly silent, every eye fixed on the confrontation as Oreon felt Celestia and Sylvanie tense on either side of him.

"Listen, I don't have time for your crap today, and for the record, when you're not actually scared to leave town, then you and I can have a discussion, but for right now, move. I didn't come here to see you." Oreon countered.

Grog's grin faltered for just a second, his face darkening as the insult landed. "You little shit." He growled, taking another step forward, his fists clenching at his sides. "Sounds like someone thinks he's got balls. "He pressed forward. "Where do you get out runnin' your mouth like that?"

Before Grog could come any closer, Sylvanie shifted forward, placing herself more firmly between him and Oreon. Her eyes locked onto his, cold, dangerous, and utterly unyielding.

"Careful," she said softly, her voice low and edged with a warning. "I'd hate for you to do something stupid."

Grog's eyes flicked down to her, then back up again. For a moment, he seemed to weigh his options, then he spat on the floor near her feet. "You think I'm scared of some Knife-Eared-- Elven bitch in rags?" he sneered. "You're lucky I don't drag you back to whatever cage you crawled out of."

"I'd like to see you try." Sylvanie took a step forward, but Oreon quickly removed his arm from around her shoulders and stuck his arm out in front of her, gently moving her back behind him, looking up at Grog.

"Grog," Oreon said, his voice steady despite the pain etching across his face. "I'm not asking again. Move."