Becoming Legend - Chapter 384: Elf: Faeranduhl, VIII

The elf explorers traced the Limbo of O’rriadt with only two different phases. The first phase belonged to the forest with the high noon sun never setting down, nor moving. They have been traveling for days, yet the sun gave off a never-ending warmth. On their fourth day, the expedition reached the end of the forest. At the edge was a barrier, thin yet unyielding. The barrier divides the forest from the desert. Aside from the Limbo’s inhabitants of monsters (some flying beasts that looked like a snake with a pair of wings. A bird with metallic talons. Some reptiles emerged from the rivers, and swamps), they encountered none and took only scratches, most of which were taken by the elf riders.

Elder Calanye let the expedition rest before entering the desert. The elves set up camps. They were clamped on the edges of both forest and desert, waiting to reach the end and reach the Realms of elves.

Roldan was healed by the elves, healing his bent arm and wounds so deep he would have died without the intervention of the elves.

After the expedition rested, he was sent to the camp of Elder Calanye along with Faeranduhl’s team lead. He did not bother to throw a peek at the tent. He knew what the elves would do to the human: they would interrogate him, break him until he was once again to the point of dying, and heal him once more. The process will repeat until they are satisfied.

As an explorer, Faeranduhl was given freedom, unlike his other half-elves servants. One time, Peren and their leader cooked food for the elves. They seemed to regret that they were on the scouting team. Faeranduhl did not bother to talk to them as he went to pass them and proceeded to walk towards the barrier.

He rolled the parchment on the ground once he was at the edge. The ground was molded dry. Cold and dry competing with one another as Faeranduhl brushed his hand on the parchment. He took detailed sketches of the forest. The forest encompasses the bottom of his parchment with the gate drawn like an arch with black inked tentacles around it.

He sketched the dessert across him, everything he could see, or sense even. But due to the wooden necklace, his senses were limited to just a meter around him. He was wildly incapacitated. He thought to himself that he was lucky in the exploration team. With his current status, he would only be a burden to the scouting team.

Faeranduhl pulled the pen in his bag and started to draw waving and broken lines. Some circles on the line of the barrier, and put a dot inside the circles. Then labeling them ‘sand holes’. There were at least 16 of them, and it was just the edges.

The scouting team passed behind him. Sometimes he could hear snickers coming from them. Without his mana leak, other elves would mistake him for a human. He’s got a flat ear, raven hair that looks entirely human instead of an elf, even Dark-elves does not have raven hair. No matter where they put him, Faeranduhl would always stand out as a human-looking rather than an elf.

The wind blew to his side, throwing the parchment off the ground. Feeling like he had sketched what was needed for the exploration team, Faeranduhl decided to call it a day. He rolled the parchment and put them back together with the pen. It was his third parchment. And he needed more if he continued to sketch more of the Limbo.

***

Faeranduhl went at the end of the expedition and entered a tent for their exploration team. After taking another parchment, he went outside just in time for him to notice the pair of elves dragging Roldan back inside to the tent where he was held captive.

His mother told him stories about his father. Once a soldier, or in a group. His mother told him about his father. When he was little, her mother’s words became a legend to him. She rarely talked about how humans enslaved the elves, turned them into their pets, and had them do whatever they wished to the elves.

“Having elf as a slave was a dream came true,” her mother had said to him. And that was the last thing he heard from her regarding the humans.

While his father was a legend to him. He saved his mother from slave encampments. Fell in love and gave Faeranduhl a life. Faeranduhl had his father’s heart and mother’s mind.

“Monsters are created by deeds done,” he mumbled the words his father told his mother before dying. Faeranduhl remembered her mother pointing to his heart as the words came out of her.

Words of his father pushed him to walk towards the human’s tent rather than back to the barrier.

The tent was shabby, guarded by a pair of elves. They held shields and a pair of undrawn swords to their hips. Faeranduhl stopped midway, thinking before marching forward. Was it worth it?

“I’m just going to take a look,” he said to himself, reassuring that he was just going to take a look.

“Move along half-elf,” the guard to his right said, nodding his head in the process of spitting saliva on the ground.

Faeranduhl stopped before the pair of guards. He wanted to turn around. Just get on with his days. Leave the human.

“Monsters are created by the deeds done.” The words came out of his mouth involuntarily.

“What did you say, half-elf?” the same guard spoke to him. Words stressed with agitation.

“N-nothing,” Faeranduhl said and turned around. His heart throbbing.

“Wait,” the other guard called him halfway to his walk. “You from the exploration?”

Faeranduhl turned around and nodded. The guard to his right went quiet as he stared at Faeranduhl. The animosity was still there but it seemed that he was holding himself.

“What do you want?” the elf to his left said. Faeranduhl could barely see their eyes under the slit of their helmet.

Exploration. He was a member of Thaniels’s exploration team.

“I am, yes. From exploration,” Faeranduhl said while nodding vigorously. He paused, slapping his forehead mentally. “I mean. Master explorer Thaniel needed the human for more information regarding the monsters that we encountered today.”

“Master Thaniel,” the guards said almost at the same time and let out a satisfying laugh.

The guards nodded their heads as though mocking Faeranduhl but one of them waved a hand to let him inside.

Faeranduhl clipped his hand to his chest and bowed.

Inside the tent reeked of sweat and blood.

Roldan the human was chained to a wooden pole in the middle of the tent. His arms were held just fine, but after the interrogation (torture), he was left half-dead without being healed.

Blood leaked from his mouth. His hands were pale. The chains must have been too tight for him and Faeranduhl remembered the words of his father once again. He shook his head, turned around, went back outside, and later came back with a waterskin, disregarding the groans of the guards.

“If I want him to talk, I need him wet.” Faeranduhl had said to guards and went marching inside. Heart thumping.

Faeranduhl gave the half-conscious human the waterskin. In less than seconds, the waterskin was empty. A cut, over Roldan’s left eye, was preventing him from giving Faeranduhl a confused stare.

“What do you want this time, elf?” Roldan said accompanied with groans. His voice was pinched but audible.

“Half,” Faeranduhl said, his voice a whisper as he stared at Roldan evenly, kneeling. “Half-elf.”

Roldan opened his right eye. Faeranduhl knew that seeing him more like a human gave Roldan a surprised look. His eye went wide for a moment before closing it.

“Does it matter?” Roldan said eventually. His voice was loud and Faeranduhl almost covered his mouth. “You’re still an elf.”

“Yes, it matters!” Faeranduhl shouted, his head nudging over his shoulder, letting the guards know they were talking about nothing but explorations. “We needed to know what we encountered today.” Faeranduhl then leaned closer and whispered. “Why did you stay? You could have told them no. But you helped us even if we did this to you.” Faeranduhl looked at Roldan with scrutinizing eyes.

Roldan was half-naked. Blood leaked from his mouth, down to his body. Stomach swollen, tainted with blue which Faeranduhl assumed a blood clot. All these could easily be healed by the elves. And Faeranduhl was not. He was half.

Roldan looked at him. Other eye closed, the other confused. Chains rattled just from his ragged breathing.

“That ‘monster’ took her,” Roldan eventually said. His eye flashed silver and Faeranduhl almost took a step back from kneeling. “He took my Ingrith.”

Faeranduhl said nothing. Saying something will only come out as nonsense since he did not know what had happened exactly to the human Roldan was talking about. He let the emotion settle down on Roldan while he pulled a parchment off his bag hanging on his shoulder.

“What’s that?” Roldan said, confused.

“Tell me about that monster,” Faeranduhl said. “We don’t know we might encounter him next.”

“Oh you well,” Roldan said, blood spraying off his mouth. “I told your generals everything I know. And they agreed to help me find that ‘monster’”.

Faeranduhl stopped scribbling midway the label he was writing and looked at Roldan, then at the entrance to the tent behind him.

“And they agreed to help you find the monster?” Faeranduhl whispered.

Roldan nodded.

“And they agreed to save your ‘Ingrith’?” Faeranduhl whispered.

Roldan nodded and Faeranduhl shook his head.

“We’re leaving soon, half-elf!” one of the guards said behind the magic conjured tent. “Make it faster.” The pair then chuckled outside.

Faeranduhl let them be and looked at Roldan. “You’ve been lied to,” he said.

“But they said they will help me if I tell them everything,” Roldan said, now feeling concerned. “And you are elves. You do not lie.”

“That was a long time ago,” Faeranduhl said, not sure to laugh or shake his head. “A time when humans and elves are equal. When humans are not traitors to us. Took our magic and—”

“You are the traitor,” Roldan said, gritting his teeth. “You are afraid that we humans will surpass you. Wage war before—”

Faeranduhl raised a finger and shook his head. “That was a long time ago,” and said, “forget it. For now. My concern is they lied to you.”

“You? Concerned?” Roldan said. “Why do you even care? You look human, yes. But deep inside you. Your core, your blood, the air you breathe, you are an ELF.”

“Half,” Faeranduhl said, a matter of fact. “I care because…” He trailed, looked over his shoulder, and back to Roldan. He rolled the parchment and put it back in his bag. “Because…”

Let it go. Leave him. He’s just another human. They will betray you. ‘He’ will betray you. Humans do not deserve you.

“Not all are the same,” Faeranduhl murmured the words of his mother. “Like us, we all deserved to live.”

Roldan looked over Faeranduhl. The Half-elf stood over him, confused as he was. He paced back and forth, shouting to the guards that he will soon come out and to give him more time as he was halfway sketching about some tentacled monster.

“This is very important,” Faeranduhl said to the elven guards behind the tent. “Master Thatien needed this.”

Faeranduhl heard chuckles once again; disregarding them the same. He walked to Roldan and bent closer to him.

“They will not save your woman, human,” Faeranduhl said, conflicted inside his thoughts. He paced back and forth once again, whispering words Roldan failed to understand. “Or kill that monster. Well… They would if that monster stood in their way.”

“Stood in their way?” Roldan repeated Faeranduhl. “Why? What do you mean, elf? Why are you elves even here? Have you wet your pants and decided that you are done hiding?”

“YES!” Faeranduhl snapped, reached for Roldan’s neck, and pulled him closer. “YES! We are done hiding. That is why we are here, looking for a way to go back home. So, yes, we are done hiding. And they do not care if your woman is taken, killed, or what… we just want to go home. And they—we—will do it even if we lie!”

The tent flapped open and the pair of elven guards went inside with their blades unsheathed, pointing to Faeranduhl then to Roldan.

“What is happening here, half—”

The ground shook and a pair of tentacle-like mud shot towards the guards. Binding their legs, arms, and their head.

The spell took the guards by surprise and they failed to react accordingly. Their blades, and shields, fell as the slithering mud coiled around their wrists and got harder the more they moved. Not even a shout came out of their mouth after the spell coiled their heads, covering them, depriving them of air.

Feeling no movements from the guards, Faeranduhl undid his spell (guards fell thudding on the ground) and proceeded to break the chains on Roldan’s wrist. The chain was imbued with magical arrays of the basic scripts. It was created only to weaken Roldan constantly but not to strengthen the chain itself.

Faeranduhl plucked the dagger under his waist. Inserted in between the chains, against the pole, and leveraged it with his strength. The chains snapped without much resistance, freeing Roldan.

Faeranduhl towed Roldan behind his back but snapped the bag in the process. Faeranduhl hissed, letting go of the bag but proceeded to conjure terra magic that split open the tent.

Faeranduhl heard shouting from the expedition before they disappeared into the forest opposite the desert the elves were going to.