Chapter 41

Newly kitted out, Wil and the others were leaving the shop, looking for a store that sold weapons, when he felt Mara stiffen and pause next to him. Alarmed, he turned to look at the younger woman. She was as white as a ghost, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open as she stared at something down the street.

Worried, Wil followed her gaze, instantly spotting what had shocked the young woman to her core.

Walking towards them were a group of Elves, a half dozen members of the tall, lithe and beautiful race, slowly making their way down the road. They glided down the street, so graceful were their movements that they could have been floating, if it weren’t for the sight of their feet planted firmly on the ground.

Some were dressed in robes of fine, gossamer silk, others in light, delicately crafted, silver Elvish armor. The group appeared as divine beings, come down from the heavens to step amongst mortals. Their long, light-colored hair ranged from the color of honey and gold to pure white, glowing like pure metal in the sunlight, cascading down their backs.

A natural distance separated the elves from the other races surrounding them, an unconsciously created space that kept them apart from others. Whereas Wil and the others had jostled for space in the crowded street, the elves created a bubble of calm as members of all races paused what they were doing, to watch them.

Even Wil, who had met Elves before, was shocked for a moment by their presence. Their beauty and grace taking him off guard. It wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of their expressions, that he came back to reality and his distaste for them overpowered his awe.

The Elves had a natural arrogance about them, from the tilt of their heads to the set of their shoulders. Each appeared as if they were walking amongst trash, not even attempting to make their disgust for the other, lesser races, a secret. Now that they were closer, Wil could spot the frowning expressions, the haughty attitude that screamed ‘we are better than you in every possible way.’

Wil couldn’t deny their beauty, but also their power. He could sense their mana from where he stood, an overpowering presence that was nearly suffocating. The air around them reeked of the ozone like smell of magic, as the elves practically oozed mana from their bodies.

From what he could sense, they were all high ranked, which wasn’t a surprise from the long-lived race. Every Elf that Wil had met had been at least rank 10, most even higher. Blessed by the heavens, they gained strength steadily over their many years, almost effortlessly accumulating power.

If they were less xenophobic, they would undoubtedly rule a large portion of the world by now.

As it was, Elves could barely handle being away from Elvenhome for short periods of time, leaving Wil to wonder what they were doing here, in the Foreigner’s Port, a mixing pot of humanity that they normally avoided like the plague.

Now knowing why Mara stiffened, he rested his hand on his companion’s shoulder. The sudden contact jolted her out of her stupor, although her eyes were still glued to the Elves. Wil wasn’t surprised at her reaction, considering her heritage. Despite being a quarter elf, this was likely the first time she laid eyes on her distant relations.

“Do you want to meet them?” Wil leaned into her ear, whispering the question so no one else around them could hear.

“Could I? Would that be a good idea?” Mara asked, eyes wide and shining at the thought. Wil could see the hope reflected there, a lifelong dream of meeting members of race that shared her heritage. He knew this would possibly be one of her only chances to do so. He also knew what would likely happen if she did meet them, their response could crush her.

“You could…we can go over there right now. They’d know who you were, what you are, at a glance. But…” Wil said, seeing the hope in her eyes shining brighter. He didn’t want to crush it, but she needed to know what would happen if they did meet.

“But?” Mara asked, tearing her gaze from the elves and looking at Wil.

“Don’t expect a warm reception, Mara.” Wil said, taking a deep breath before saying the words.

“I know this is something you want, something you need, to do. I just don’t want you to blame yourself when it doesn’t…exactly go well.” Wil said, looking down at her, before looking back at the elves. During the short time they were talking, the group were just in front of them, and even Quentin and Martin had stopped, staring at the beautiful elven men and women.

Mara took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she visibly steeled herself for what would happen next. Giving her a moment, Wil focused his thoughts, putting them in order, burying his dislike for the Elves in front of him deep down inside.

He didn’t want his emotions controlling the coming encounter. Thinking back to his time in Elvenhome, he almost grinned as he suddenly knew exactly how to go about getting their attention.

Opening her eyes, Mara gave Wil a determined look, before nodding. Giving her a quick grin, he mouthed ‘follow my lead’ before he stepped forward, blocking the path of the walking Elves.

Instantly, the entire group focused on him, their looks of distaste becoming more pronounced as they assessed him.

With a wide grin plastered on his face, Wil spread his arms wide in greeting as he slowly walked forward, feeling the weight of their gazes and the subtle probing of their mana sweeping over him. Not wanting to hide a thing, Wil pushed a thread of his own mana from his core for them to focus on.

He noted the moment when they felt that small trace that lingered in his silvery mana that hinted at his distant, elven ancestry.

He knew they recognized him for what he was when the looks of distaste changed to pure disgust and loathing at his flaunting of his elven ancestry.

“Greetings, Cousins! Fancy meeting you here, in the Foreigner’s Port!” Wil said, falsely cheery as he stopped just in front of them, not wanting the distrustful elves to take his presence for a threat. He nearly laughed as their pale faces flushed red in anger at his greeting of ‘cousin’, a not-so-subtle reminder of his shameful, part elven heritage.

“Illyrian…for what reason do you block our path with your…existence?” The lead Elf, a male, wearing silver armor and a long, gracefully curved blade on his hip, asked Wil, barely maintain his civility at the interruption.

Wil caught the Elf raking his eyes across his face, pausing at the Drake on the front of his armor, before disregarding it. When his vision rested on the signet ring on Wil’s right hand, he caught a flicker of recognition in the elf’s eyes. Evidently, he knew a bit about Illyrian house symbols.

Having grabbed their attention, he needed it to remain firmly on him, while Mara had a chance to see how the elves would react to her presence. Judging from his time in Elvenhome, things could take a turn quickly. If they did, better their ire be on him, than Mara behind him.

“Reason? Why would family need a reason to greet each other in the street! It’s been years since I was last in Elvenhome, and it fills my heart with gratitude to see my distant relations once more!” Wil proclaimed.

In the time they spoke, the entire street had gone silent, and Wil’s words echoed. Already, he could hear the whispers starting, pointing at him and the elves.

“Relations!” The Elf spat out, the rage building in his eyes as his face turned red. Only the respect they held for the Laws of Lund kept him from drawing his blade.

‘Maybe that was pushing a bit too hard.’ Wil thought to himself. But he needed to show Mara how she will be viewed. He only had a trace of elven blood, and they were infuriated by his existence. If Mara spoke to them, he couldn’t imagine the reaction. He could feel her behind him, she had gone completely still.

“We are no relations to some…HUMAN! I would cut your lying tongue from your mouth were we anywhere else. Count yourself lucky, Brookmoor, that I do not take our grievance to your emperor for redress. Now get out of my sight!” The Elf practically yelled the last words, and his sword was already sliding out of its sheath as his companions on the cusp of drawing weapons or casting spells.

‘Apparently, he has more than a passing knowledge of Illyrian nobility.’ Wil thought, when the Elf spoke his families name. Impressive, from only a glance at a ring on a human’s hand.

“Now, now, now, I apologize if I caused any offence. Perhaps I was too…enthusiastic. How about we all go to a tavern, have a pint, and forget anything happened? Water under the bridge, right?” Wil said, trying to keep the situation from going completely out of control, as he took a glance at Mara next to him. Thankfully, the attention was still on him, he just needed to get them both out of here as quickly and quietly as possible.

The woman had gone completely pale, her eyes wide and tears were already forming at the hostility the elves were demonstrating. Even though she knew what to expect, a small part of her hoped they would recognize her, to give her some small hope of learning more about them.

The elves had caught Wil’s unintentional glance at Mara, and their eyes quickly focused on her, sweeping over her with their mana. He caught the moment they knew what she was, the slight widening of eyes that spoke volumes to him.

If he had a small drop of elven blood left in his bloodline that they could detect, then Mara had enough to shine like the sun to their elvish vision.

Wil thought, for a moment, that things wouldn’t come to a head, that they would maintain some form of civility. But the moment they saw Mara, evidence of Elvish shame on display to all, their reason went out the window. Like the sudden coming of a thunderstorm, the Elves mana exploded out from them, a whirlwind of power that knocked the crowds back.

Cursing, Wil grabbed hold of Mara and teleported with her, just as the first Elf had drawn his sword and stabbed towards the defenseless girl.

Wil could feel that the elf was at least Rank 12, and they wouldn’t stand a chance in hell fighting against him. But luckily, the Foreigner’s Port was well guarded, and already, the display had brought the attention of the guards.

In a flash, Wil and Mara were deep in the crowd, his arm around her as he crouched down, ducking behind the wall of humanity that separated them from the angry elves. He could feel Mara shaking in shock at the sudden attack, and truth be told, Wil was unsteady on his feet as the adrenaline slowly faded from his body.

In moments, guards wearing plate mail had surrounded the Elvish party. Despite the guards being lower in rank, the Elves still had enough sense to not fight against them. In short order, the street had been cleared, the elves escorted away by the guards. Although, to the onlookers, it appeared like they were an honor guard, escorting the elves down the street.

During the confusion, Wil and the others slipped away, not wanting to stick around and answer any questions the locals might have. The entire time, Wil kept a hold of Mara, even when her shaking stopped, and her pale face regained some color.

“I’m sorry about that. I figured it wouldn’t go well, but I had no idea they’d lost their gods damned minds.” Wil whispered, as Quentin and Martin led the way down the busy streets.

“It’s not your fault, Wil. At least I know I’ll never be allowed to visit Elvenhome or meet any of my people.” She said, shaking her head at the thought. A part of her thought that maybe her mother was wrong, that she had been exaggerating the elves dislike.

“Hey, we’re your people, Mara. Doesn’t matter if their Elves, or Brookmoors, or anyone else. We got each other. We’re all family. If they don’t want you? Then it’s their loss and our gain. Elvenhome is terrible anyway. Place smells, everything’s green and all they eat there is leaves and bread.” Wil joked, subtly looking down at his friend as he kept talking.

Soon, the young woman was joking and laughing with him, and if it wasn’t for the hurt that lingered in her eyes, he would almost believe that she was alright.