It was the most bizarre thing. One moment, Lairan Rilness was walking along the beaten forest path, next moment he was standing before the gate of a medium sized town. If he had been anything but an elf, he would have thought the builders of the town had used magic, but of course, an elf knew how to disguise things in the forest.
The village itself was slightly ramshackle, not like the fine, fluted columns and delicate arches Lairan was used to. But of course, only dark elves, elves sworn to worship the Destroyer, lived here, so it stood to reason that they did not build their home to be aesthetically pleasing.
Walking through the rough-hewn gate, Lairan surveyed the town square. A simple place, with no marble fountains or beds of fragile flowers. But dark elves were strange folk, and beauty was no doubt beyond them.
Entering an ugly wooden building with a sign saying, “Newcomers Here” in peeling gilt letters, Lairan observed the heathen sitting behind the desk. She looked nothing like an elf. Her brown hair was cut just below her shoulders, and pulled back in a sharp braid. Instead of a delicate silken dress, she wore a sturdy woollen dress in the styles preferred by the barbaric humans. The dress was un-dyed, as was her apron. What self-respecting elf wore an apron?! No matter; Lairan was here on business, not to observe the appearance of the dark elf.
“Excuse me, Miss,” he said, inclining his head ever so slightly. It would not do to forget his manners. “I am looking for a relative of mine.”
“Her name?” the dark elf maiden asked.
“Ilanaliva Rilness.” The maiden raised her eyebrows.
“I hadn’t realized she had any relatives… Oh! You wouldn’t happen to be from the Elven Home, would you?” Lairan nodded. “Oh! Uh… You know, we do not normally allow folks from the Elven Home into our village. I would greatly appreciate it if you would leave. I’m sure Iliva would rather not see you, anyway.”
“But… She’s here? I must see her. Please…” The woman didn’t seem to want to give in. “I… I’m her father…” That took a lot; if Iliva truly was here, and judging by the maiden’s words, she was, that meant Iliva worshipped the Destroyer, and… No elf wanted to be connected to the Destroyer.
“Her father?” The dark elf looked faintly surprised. “Hmm… She never mentioned… Very well. I suppose I don’t really have a choice. She lives in House Four, Room Three, with… You’ll find her there. Good luck.”
With? What on Thrae… Realizing what this could- and probably did- mean, Lairan thanked the woman and slowly walked towards Iliva’s house.
The houses were strange places. Nine rooms, all with their doors pointing to a communal courtyard, within which was a stove. There were a total of eight of the little house-things. Lairan didn’t like it much. Too… cluttered.
“One… Two…” Lairan counted the numbers attached to the houses. “Three… Four.” Walking up the front path to House Four, Lairan frowned to notice the noise coming from that particular house. Someone was singing off-key, and someone else was laughing, and he could even hear what sounded like a child or two shrieking happily.
The courtyard was chaos. An Ipah, one of the halfling plainsmen, who was watering a small flower-garden, was the source of the off-key singing. Two children of about five years, each with a head of magnificent chestnut curls, were playing tag. And the source of the laughter was-
“Tulomon?!” Lairan had been afraid of this from the moment the elf at the welcoming desk said, “with”. Apparently Iliva had married the dark elf. Disgusting.
“Hmm?” The dark elf looked rather shocked. “My… My Lord Lairan! Oh! Uh… A pleasure to see you.” Lairan didn’t believe the elf for an instant.
“Delighted,” he responded rather sarcastically. “I don’t suppose you know the whereabouts of Iliva?” Tulomon nodded.
“Just a moment.” Manoeuvring around the children- Lairan was suddenly very worried that he might be a grandfather- Tulomon opened the door to a room marked “3”. “Iliva, uh… There’s someone… here to see you.”
“Really? Who… Father!” Iliva rushed over to hug Lairan. Lairan certainly hadn’t been expecting that! Last he’d seen her, Iliva had been pale, the lustre gone from her hair, the sparkle gone from her eyes. She hadn’t responded to anything. Now… Her hair was shining again, and her green eyes danced. Her skin was a healthy rosy colour, although more tanned that Lairan remembered. She wore a simple brown skirt, white blouse, green corset, and white apron. Around her head was a garland of daisies. She looked… healthy.
“Iliva… Are you alright? Are you safe? Are you… Is… Are…” There was no polite way for Lairan to ask. Luckily, Iliva seemed to sense his dilemma.
“I follow the Creator, Father. So does Tulomon,” she added, nodding her head in the dark elf’s- elf’s- direction. “Don’t worry. We wouldn’t raise our children in an evil home.”
“Children?” Lairan looked at the two small elves. Their eyes looked just like Iliva’s.
“Yes. They’re twins. The girl is Minuella, and the boy is Suaron.” Turning to the children, Iliva added, “Nella, Suaron, this is your grandfather.” Both children’s mouths turned into identical O’s.
“Hello, Grandpapa,” the boy, Suaron, said. The girl just smiled.
“Hello, Children…” Lairan was at a loss for what to say. What could he say? Finally, he remembered what he had come here for.
“Iliva, um… Do you hear any of the news from the Elven Home?” Iliva shook her head. “Then you don’t know that Eleverdo is king?” Iliva looked surprised.
“Really? Then King Nelekando… But he wasn’t that old!” Lairan nodded.
“Robbers. I don’t know why. They came and looted, and killed any who got in their way. Nelekando was very brave. One of the other advisors, Anodal Naelwyn- you remember him? He’s the one with the radical ideas- thought to enlist some help. I believe he’s currently trying to organize a treaty with some nonsense mercenary group. Foolish man. Anyway, Eleverdo is king, and I thought that I ought to go looking for you. You’ve been gone an awfully long time, my dear. Eleverdo said that if I found you, and you still followed the Creator, you were welcome to return. Would… Would you like to?”
Iliva had listened intently to his speech, and looked genuinely surprised. Lairan couldn’t blame her. Finally, she asked,
“I would love to return Father, but… what about Tulomon? He was exiled…” Lairan thought it over.
“Hmm… I’m afraid I can’t say much, my dear. How about I return home, and ask the King. I’ll send a letter as soon as possible. And if he says yes, will you?” His daughter looked over at Tulomon, who nodded slightly.
“Of course, Father.”
“Ah, Lord Lairan. It is so nice to have you home. I see the Mistress is not with you. Did you not find her?” Lairan smiled at the butler.
“No, Ilnolvo, I found her.” Ilnolvo looked rather upset.
“Then… Then the Mistress follows…”
“No, do not worry, she still follows the Creator. However, she had met up with Tulomon Willenello,” Ilnolvo hissed, “and married him. She claims that Tulomon has returned to the Light, so I have returned to ask the King if Tulomon may return to our fair city.” The butler nodded.
“Ah. Of course. Shall I find some clean clothes, then, Sir?” Lairan nodded.
“Please. I wish to speak with Eleverdo as soon as possible; I want my daughter back.”
“So… You say that he has returned to the Light, and wishes to return with his wife, your daughter?” Lairan nodded. Eleverdo thought for a moment. “I see. Very interesting. I think it would be permissible for him to return, but of course I must consult my council.” Lairan nodded- he’d expected no less- and smiled.
“Thank you for listening, Eleverdo.”
The lad has grown, Lairan thought. He used to be impulsive and rash. Now he thinks like a leader. Nelekando was right; marrying the boy off was a good idea. Poor Eleverdo. He’ll never be able to do something reckless again, with Hilessa always lecturing him on proper behaviour. But it is nice to have a proper king.
“Very well, Lord Lairan; Tulomon Willenello may return,” Lord Veloar intoned. Lairan sighed in relief.
“Thank you, Gracious Council, for agreeing in this matter.”
“Now, we must address other matters. Does any other among us have something to put forth?” Lord Veloar asked.
Perfect. Now I just have to send Iliva a letter… This is so wonderful!