Chapter 7: Creatures

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Felicia wasn’t use to all this walking. She had grown tired, and her feet ached in the leather shoes Valandil had lent her. Everyone seemed fine though as they continued along. Even Zanian seemed to be enjoying the walking. Afraid to stop to ask for a break, Felicia kept on.

“If you did not bring horses, how did you get here?” Felicia asked, “I realize you walked, but how could you travel such a long distance?”

“Our homes aren’t far,” Septima replied. “Torrim lives in the Helemshire Mountains. Lessien in the Telrain Forest. I come from the Xarnath Valley. Each are about three or four leagues away from each other. Valan, Quoorin and Thereriss all have their homes in the Lysoria woods.”

“From what I’ve seen of maps,” Zanian mused, “those places aren’t too far off. I always thought your homes would be farther off.”

“How close are they?” Felicia asked, “I’ve never really seen a map.”

“Are you serious?” Quoorin replied, staring at her in disbelief. “Never in your sixteen years?”

‘No,” she answered. “I don’t know how to read or write either.”

“Then it should be easier to teach you elven script,” Valandil said. “Of course you’ll learn human as well. Perhaps some dwarven if we find the time. You’ll be busy training.”

“Training?” She blinked, “Training for what? If you mean fighting, I can’t do that.”

“You have to know how to fight,” Valandil replied. “How to keep yourself safe if none of us are around. You’re an elf, so you should catch on quickly. You as well will learn Zanian.”

“Will you train us?” Felicia wondered, trying to keep the conversation going so her focus wouldn’t be on her blistering feet. It was unknown to her how Valandil could walk so perfectly on the sharp pebbles that dotted the road. Even in the leather shoes they prodded her feet.

“For now we shall,” Valandil replied. “Until we get to the soothsayer. From there you shall probably be brought to a spire walker.”

“A spire walker?” Felicia asked, “I’ve never heard of such a creature.”

“Most humans are ignorant to the multiple types of creatures there are,” Quoorin said. “They know of the main ones, but not of the ones that live in the darkest recesses of Lorradin, which includes spire walkers.”

“What are they?” Zanian asked, “I haven’t heard of them either.”

“They’re elves of a sort,” Valandil replied. “Very few of them.”

“The voice of an elf, and the looks as well,” sung Thereriss from Lessien’s shoulder. “The magic of a sorcerer and the soul of a dragon. O’ fly through the sky with the wings of an angel. O’ teach me your ways to fight! You cast down your victims with malice and might So soar away into the night! O’ soar away into the night! Why so few of you walk? Why do you hide away, away? O’ why do you hide away? Why don’t you come and wander free? O’ wander free with me? With power and grace, you teach a few! O’ let me train with you! So fly away into the night, with thou’s angel wings.”

“They have angel wings?” Zanian asked, sounding excited, “Have you seen them before?”

“Valandil and I are the only ones who have,” Septima replied. “Valandil trained with one for twenty years. I only stumbled upon one while I was traveling.”

“How old are you?” Felicia asked, turning to Valandil.

“Eighty-seven,” he replied. “We do not age the same as humans, and can leave for centuries older depending on our kind. Most slum elves die like humans as they don’t get in touch with nature as they need to.”

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