My life for yours -- Luna
Beware walking alone in the wild places, the elders warned. And if you must go, give no food nor drink to any creature that finds you there.
Alle presumed it was a caution against bears and wolves. If they viewed someone as a source of food, they might view that someone as food. It was better that the wild things of the wild places feared those who walked upright, and may have blades in their favour.
She was armed with little more than a sickle as she went herb-gathering, looking for the plants that didn't yet submit to Elven magic. Much of the wold refused it, a hundred generations into the Age of Elves.
So much of the world wanted to fight them. It just made sense to take caution.
Even miles from anywhere that other species might get antagonistic. There were still animals that objected to any Elven presence. They had no idea that Elves had won the world and then governed it benevolently. They had the gall to object whenever Elves came along and made things better. It was exhausting just learning about it. Alle couldn't imagine what it would be like living it.
Alle walked the paths that the animals made, keeping her eyes open for the right kinds of leaves. The correct types of flowers. The exact berries or fungi that her house-tree needed for its stores.
That was how she saw the eyes in the shrubbery.
Alle froze, hand flinching to the wand in her waistbelt.
The wand she had forgotten by her resting nook.
Her fingers graced the braid that should have held her primary weapon. Felt the hole where her wand should have been. Felt her heart plummet as she desperately searched her memories for something she could do that didn't need it.
And that was when Alle realised that she'd dropped her sickle.
Did she have time to bend and scoop it up? Would doing so end her life before she was fully adult[1]? Could she fight something off with a sickle?
Would she die trying?
The eyes watching her were getting closer. Right to the edge of the leaves. They burned in the shadows, but the leaves did not wither under their light.
Alle slowly bent to reach for her sickle.
And a dark hand darted from the bush to snatch it up instead.
Alle tried to scream, but her throat would not obey her. She tumbled gracelessly to a sitting position opposite...
The huddle of a small, dark creature with the proportions of a child. Its hair was a riot of curls around its head. Sticks, leaves, and feathers were tangled in it. The creature had hooves, and a thick mat of fur on its legs. And now it had Alle's sickle.
She was going to get in so much trouble for losing it.
The child-creature was Elf-shaped. Sort of. It sniffed and licked the sickle. It turned the tool around in Elven-shaped hands. Only it had five fingers instead of four.
It couldn't be a Human. Those were tales the adults told the tiny ones when they demanded a scary story. They couldn't be real. Nobody believed in apes that grew up and learned magic like Elves did. All that stuff about making deals with demons to get rid of Elves? Nursery tales to give the little ones nightmares, and to make them afraid of things that could cause them harm. Cautionary monsters that could not ever be real.
This was just some abandoned child with a lot of deformities. It happened from time to time.
Therefore, it was safe for Alle to bargain for her sickle back.
She took some travel bread out of her basket, breaking off a tiny corner to show this deformed creature that it was edible. "You want food? I give you food, you give me that back. All right? We have a deal?"
It had to drop the sickle to snatch the bread. Alle pounced on the tool and scrambled away. Leaving the misbegot thing in the bushes. It would have a hard time following her on those hairy, stubby legs. If she took another path back to the house-tree, it would never find her.
She was wrong.
Alle was in the middle of gathering wild herbs when a rustle and a chirp drew her attention to the creature again.
"Food," it said.
Good gods, it had learned Elven words. Well. One Elven word. "Not food. Medicine. Bad. No touch."
The burning eyes darted to the sickle blade, then back to the basket. "Food?"
There were some edible leaves nearby. Alle sighed and gathered a thick bundle of them. "You go away now," she ordered. "Shoo." She put some spare berries in the middle for weight and threw it into the underbrush. Alle dashed back home the instant the creature dove out of view.
She almost made it all the way back.
Unfortunately, she startled a wild buck in the middle of mating season. The house-tree and gardens around it were within sight. The buck looked like it was dancing. Which meant that he had recognised her as a threat and was about to kill her.
Once again, a scream would not leave her throat. At least this time, she readied her sickle in what she hoped was a defensive posture.
An alien word from the undergrowth. A bolt of what she could only describe as black lightning. A blur of motion and the child-creature leaped up on the deer.
It had a rock, and unbridled determination.
But it was also small and easily thrown.
The buck fell dead at the same moment that the little creature landed at Alle's feet. Bloodied. Bleeding. Looking pleased with itself.
Now she could scream. Drawing people who knew better to the scene.
Alle felt she had to cradle the little creature. It had nearly paid its life to save hers. For a piece of bread and a bundle of leaves.
"What are you doing with a Hellkin?" demanded Elder Lorrinaiia. Her sword was ready to attack, she had no way to harm the creature without harming Alle in the process.
"It saved my life," Alle said. "Please. It's dying."
Alle would understand Lorrinaiia's expression when she was much older and was caring for children herself. The quandry of a child that had unwittingly adopted some filthy piece of vermin and could not be told that the animal was better off dead.
Hurt the child by harming their new friend, or suffer pet filth for a decade or so?
Elder Lorrinaiia sighed and worked a spell to spare this... Hellkin creature. "You will have to look after it. Bathe it, comb it, feed it properly and do what you can for its health. And when it dies... you bury it too."
This little creature was her responsibility. For the rest of its life.
[1] Elves reach official maturity at one hundred years of age. At this point in the story, it must be noted that Alle is 'only' Seventy-two.
[Photo by IamCristian on Unsplash]
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