(Setting: Havensbridge, Sessenne; The next morning)
A crack in the lone shutter of the small quarters Mila was given in the Guard’s Tower allows for just enough light to seep through and settle on her closed eyelids. They open slowly and her vision is a soft haze for a moment before her eyes finally adjust. Judging by the position in the tower and the sunlight just having broken through, it couldn’t have been too far past dawn. She sits up slowly and sighs, her body aching still from the past days activities, but at least she wasn’t in the crippling pain she had been thanks to the ‘archer’.
Her eyes move to her plate armor that she had tossed aside once issued a bed to sleep on, never having wished for sleep more in her life. She lets out a soft sigh and shakes her head. The thought of putting that heavy wear back on again so soon didn’t sit well with her and she laid back into the bed and pulled the covers over her head. The sunlight would slowly enter the room more and reflect off of her crimson locks that strayed from under the blanket.
Though it would appear that she had chosen to go to sleep again she was everything but tired. Her thoughts ran wild as she recalled the events leading up to the present moment. The Commander whom died in her hands. Tornus, who had saved her life in one form or another, had been left at the wall and was likely dead. The child who was killed so brutally in cold blood and the eyes of the man…no, creature, that did it to her and her family. The Galanti that she had swore to keep safe but failed. The magi that saved her life and was now separated from the group again. The ‘archer’ that had also aided her but returned to the burning city. And the strange man in the quarters next to her that she knew little about…only that he liked to talk too much.
She sighs and turns onto her side, keeping the covers pulled tightly over her. She had failed. There was no getting around it. Every promise she made, she had failed to keep. It was no wonder why she wandered alone. Her attitude only made things worse and she knew it. Yet she made no effort to change. Perhaps the group would be better if she were to just leave them to their mission before she broke another promise. All thoughts that rang through her mind like bells tolling on a clock. All thoughts that wouldn’t allow her to return to sleep like she wished….hoping to awake to it all being a dream. Nightmare, rather.
Walgrin groans as he wakes from his sleep, “Damnit… I’m not sure I’m ever going to get used to sleeping again.” He sighs as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, and tries to get his eyes adjusted to the dim light, “If the council could see me now, they’d never let me hear the end of it.” He stands and squats a few times to stretch out his legs, “Ungh” he winces as he stretches his arms, “Okay. Aches and sores. Pain.” He sighs, “Being Mortal.” The man groans as she bends over trying to finish up his stretching.
After finishing his stretching, Walgrin redresses, and puts the ridiculous goggles back onto his head. “May as well see how the woman is doing.” He heads to Mila’s room and lifts his hand to knock on the door to check on her. Irony of the situation, while her wounds were much more severe, Walgrin was probably the one more impaired. Mila has been mortal her entire life, Walgrin has only been mortal again for a year or so, and before that? He lost count of the years. He’d stop caring about the years that passed.
He shakes his head and raps his knuckles on the door to the half-elf’s room.
Mila is startled by the knock though it should be no surprise. Normally she would be up, dressed, and causing some sort of trouble by now. But the will just hadn’t come to her yet. Still tucked far under the blankets, the knock at least stopped her lamenting of the past briefly enough to think about how to respond to it. Should she ignore it and pretend to still be sleeping? Tell whomever is at the door that she is up just not yet dressed and shall be downstairs momentarily? Or perhaps she should…
She cringes as her elven tongue speaks for her, unsure even of whom she was just rude to even. With a heavy sigh she throws the blankets off and steps to her feet, cringing as she didn’t even give herself a moment to try and stretch out her sore muscles before moving to the door. She undoes the latch but only opens it a crack, still just in her chain mail and not her armor. “Apologies….I…..” She looks up to see the familiar goggles and Walgrin staring back at her before slamming the door right back in his face.
“Kela. I’m not dressed yet. Nor do I wish to be.” She grumbles as she moves back to the bed and face plants onto it- now regretting getting up more than ever.
“Oio naa elealla alasse’. Iire Lle desiel.” The man responds through the door with a smirk. He turns and heads back to his room, no reason to stand around outside of a door when you’re unwanted.
Walgrin heads back to his room and checks over his armor. It’s not the unbreakable thing it used to be, but hopefully it’d be sufficient to support in this venture. He pulls out the armor polish and the buffing tools he’d bought since coming to this world and set to cleaning the armor of the sand and gore of the prior day.
The armor received the brunt of the damage honestly. Hot sand dig into the lacquers and embedded themselves into the ancient armor. Working it out was going to take a while.
As he moves onto his sword, he smirks remembering his maneuver to jump from the _Magai_’s makeshift mount to stab the dragon in neck. He wipes the grin from his face as he cleans the piece of home. Thankfully still as unbreakable here as it was whence he came.
After assessing the total damage, and cataloging the things required to do? Walgrin occupies himself with his maintenance as he waits to hear his neighbor stir on her own. Rest may be hard to find in the coming days. No need to rush into the sunrise just yet. Trouble would find them again soon enough.
Mila’s ears perk up as he speaks elven back to her. “Mani…?” She sits up and looks back towards the shut door briefly before jumping back to her feet, again ignoring her aching muscles, and moving towards the table that held her armor. She doesn’t move to dress, however, instead just grabbing her blood stained sword that had managed to be recovered after the dragon fell. She stormed out of her door and over to his, not even bothering to knock before taking her shoulder and at the same time she twisted the knob to it, shoving hard against it and busting in on him tending to his armor.
“Lle quena i’lambe tel’ Eldalie? Are you elven?”
Her hazel eyes glare at him in confusion and anger as she raises her sword to him. She seemed to show no embarrassment simply being in her chain mail top and shorts that would glisten in the rays that struck her when she entered- a sign that it had been woven by an Elf with only the craftsmanship they posses. Seeing her outside of her plate gear she wouldn’t seem that threatening. Certainly petite though her curves were still strong, if she didn’t have a sword in her hand any threat may be laughable coming from her lips- if it wasn’t still.
But she was angry. All that time she wasted energy on keeping her secret and suddenly it seemed everyone could communicate with her sharp, elvish tongue.
“Sut? Amin n’rangwa edanea! Lle wethrine amin… why did you not say you spoke elven sooner! Who are you!” She questions as she steps towards him. “Answer me!”
Walgrin’s eyes dart from his sword as Mila enters, and he makes a few quick decisions as she speaks. First, he drops his blade and lets it clatter to the floor on which he sits cross-legged. Second he raises his hands in submission or surrender to the woman. Hopefully this diffuses things a bit? He waits and listens to her as she speaks and blushes a bit, he hadn’t meant to set her off that way. “I do~” He gulps at the sword, “I also admit a fair bit of confusion, I assumed it was a passion of yours, you speak it freely, I meant no offense.”
He leaves his hands up but points to his not quite elven ears, “I am not of the elven people, but back home I was blessed by them for deeds done in their honor.” He speaks with a slow cadence, but not too slow, he just wants to make sure that Mila doesn’t think he’s rushing, “As to why I hadn’t said so earlier?” He sighs and shrugs his shoulders, “Pleasantries weren’t really on the menu for our introductions. Amin hiraetha”
He takes a deep breath and tries to introduce himself properly, “Back in my old realm, I was known as Walgrin Herdaius Fifteen. Ruler of fifteen eras. I know not how I came to be here in your world, but most all of my abilities left me as I arrived.” His eyes look down at his sword, but he makes no motion to retrieve it, “My sword, Cleft Reality, is the only time I even feel a spark of Magic on your world, but its faint, and its name is no longer quite worthy of its power. I speak elven as well as many other languages, but I’m afraid my elven is… Slightly different than what you speak. Your’s sounds… More Natural.” He smiles and shrugs his shoulders a bit.
Mila watches him with a stern glare as he drops his sword and attempts to show that he is no threat. That glare remains in her eyes and her sword still raised to him as he speaks but when he makes an apology, they soften and roll. She sits down on the ground in front of him with a huff in the same manner he was sitting, though she keeps her sword in her lap and her hand tightly on the grip. She listens carefully as he introduces himself finally, a brow raising at the notion that he was some sort of ruler from the past, and gives him a look when he mentions her elven words were ‘more natural’.
“More natural because it is what I was raised with.” She finally removes her hand from her sword and lets it rest in her lap as she pushes back her messy locks to show him her Elf ears that tend to get lost in them purposely. “I guess you missed my little outburst with those Orc mages. I am an Elf…well…Elandili.” She speaks the word as though the mention of a halfling burns her tongue. “Amin hiraetha…” She sighs with sincerity as she takes her sword again but sets it beside her. “I assumed you were poking fun or just keeping secrets from me. Though I am curious to know how a supposed ruler got here. So you are from the past? Kwentra i’narn. I’m quite curious to know how you ended up with this eclectic group.”
Walgrin relaxes once the sword is no long threaten to pierce him, but he doesn’t bother to make mention of it to the woman. He smiles as gears up to tell his tale, “Being honest? I’ve no idea if my old home relates to here at all. Between the flora, fauna, religions, and even the magic you use? It’s all alien to me.” He chuckles as he gestures towards the outside, “The Wyrm we fought? Dragons, great flying rulers of the skies? That, I’m used to. But when I came here?” He continues, “I spent a good deal of time trying to figure out if this was my world. Either its past OR its future.” He shakes his head sadly, “But if it is? It’s so far flung as to be a different world regardless.”
Which makes a rough segue into her question and request, “A few years ago, I was…” He pauses and looks her in the eye, “And I know this sounds insane.” He continues, “I was a High God, and ruler of my world. I ruled over all I saw, and protected the realm from threats my Mortal flock couldn’t understand.” He rolls his eyes, “I once was just a man, but that was so long ears ago,
I don’t even remember what I looked like back then. I imagine divinity must have changed me, but only because I saw it change others.” He shakes his head and tries to prevent himself from rambling too much, “But my former glory was stripped from me as I was shunted here. I was sitting in my throne room scanning through prayers of the faithful, when suddenly I was falling.” He snickers, “I have no idea what happened, one second I’m granting blessings, and then next I’m no longer able to comprehend what I’m seeing as I fall through…” He shrugs his shoulders, “World Barriers? I’m honestly not quite sure, I’d never seen anything quite like it, but that could just be that my senses were already stripped from me.” He shakes his head, “But I kept falling, trying to cast spells and draw reality to a stop around me but nothing worked. Eventually it did stop, but that was as I came out of the gap and slammed into a grassy field here on this world.”
He shakes his head and chuckles grimly, “I suddenly found myself limited by everything. I saw a village on a Mountain in the distance, but I couldn’t teleport there. I tried cutting the space between myself and there with Cleft Reality, and it didn’t work.” He swipes his hand in a horizontal slice. “After about fifteen minutes of making an ass of myself in a field? I finally started walking, and HEAVENS had I forgotten the pain that is walking.” He snickers, “Or hunger, or soreness.” He shakes his head again, “Sorry, sorry. I’ve been alive so long that rambling is practically my native tongue.” He chuckles at his own bad joke, “But after the village ejects me for being what they think is a raving lunatic, I eventually found my way to here. The Magai were the first to truly believe any inkling of my stories of another world. Of the magics I once held, but my journey here had stripped of me.” He smiles, “If nothing else? I owe them their Gallanti for sparing my sanity.” He nods solemnly.
Mila listens with intent at first but the further he goes on and on about being a former god and falling and complaining of mortal pain she quickly loses interest and perhaps even zones out for a moment. The Galanti brings her attention back, however, and she sits up straight as if she had been listening to each word he spoke. “Lle tela?” She sighs and questions before a smirk crosses her lips. “You’re right. That sounds absolutely insane and you must be from another world or perhaps the future as I have never known a god such as yourself…” She eyes him over once and raises a brow. “Puny god.” she mumbles to herself and leans back against her arms.
“Still…you aided the magi and helped me as well. Whatever you are, were, or will be- I am thankful. Diola lle…” She tilts her head at him as she eyes him closer, still confused by the man but then again, she didn’t exactly fit in with the crowd either- though her sanity was far more intact. “You said the elves graced you with those ears for deeds done? What did you do?”
Walgrin smirks and shrugs, “While a grand tale, important to the Elves of my world? Too many names of people that don’t exist here. Give me a moment.” He pauses for a second and tries to condense it down to a digestible chuck that wouldn’t be too boring. He nods after a moment and starts the shortened tale minus pointless names and historical figures that Mila couldn’t possibly know. “So in the second elven empire, a contagion broke out. Part plague, part curse, all horrible.” He shakes his head.
“The plague nearly wiped out the entire kingdom, because no one could figure out how it spread. It was a physical sickness, but no transfer seemed occurred between people.” he waves his hand trying not to be boring, “But eventually we found it carried on the death rattles of the victims, and infected any who heard them. I worked with their healers to save the remaining population and prevent the spread of it any further.” He points to his ears, “The plague affected the ears, so they thought it fitting to give me more pointed ones to match their own.”
Mila had actually found herself inching closer to him as he told the tale, remembering hearing something similar told to her by an Elder when she was a child. Perhaps he was a part of this world, after all. She smiles as he points to his ears and nods. “That was very kind of you. I’m sure their population would cease to exist had you not helped them find a solution.”
Her eyes move to the ever increasing sunlight pouring in and she sighs and stands back to her feet, stretching her aching muscles as her chain mail rattles gently. “I suppose I should get dressed. No idea where we are going next but this attire probably wouldn’t be of any aid.” She gives him an almost playful wink before bowing. “Saesa omentien lle.” She says gently before taking her sword and moving back to her room. “And sorry about the whole threat thing!” She calls back, her door closing behind her shortly.