Elantion

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“I can find my way perfectly well, thank you very much!”

She shook her head. “Why don’t you stop being such a capricious child?” Clarice’s anger was evident.

“Capricious child? You are unbearably arrogant and irritating!”

With a gesture of annoyance, the elf spoke words in Elvish whose meaning Kaj did not know, but which were obviously an insult.

“At least have the decency to cuss me out in my language, and not with words I don’t understand! It’s always like that with elves. You people don’t really care about peace; it’s only everyone else that respects it!”

Clarice then turned toward him threateningly. “Don’t you dare talk of peace, Kaj! Don’t try to tell me elves don’t respect peace! You humans have never missed an opportunity to humiliate and abuse us! You are corrupt and obtuse and you don’t realize when they’re giving you a helping hand!”

“Are you done?” he asked cockily, then continued. “You know why I dare tell you? Because I think you are so obsessed with being an elf that you don’t realize how similar you are to me! You prefer to submit to the rules of arrogant nobles who don’t even support you. You should know by now that there is no absolute good in any race! Maybe that’s why it was a human who managed to spearhead the Reconciliation, and not an elf! Which isn’t surprising, since at least we are better than you at being humble!” He paused, and realized he had hit a nerve.

Clarice turned around, taking him unawares: the man let himself be pushed against the balustrade of the bridge, and she pressed her forearm against his neck, making a fist with the other hand. He blocked it not far from his cheek. The man felt the elf’s body on him.

They stared at each other for a while. She was obviously angry at him for what he had said. Her glare could almost kill. But deep down, she knew that Kaj was right.

Clarice lowered her fist, and he let go of her hand.

“Could you let me go now?” asked the man.

Clarice also lowered her other arm, then turned abruptly and hit him with an extremely painful backhanded slap.

Kaj felt his cheek burning. “Ouch! Are you crazy? “

“You deserved a good slap to the face. Mark yourself lucky.”

“Of course, now you’ll tell me that you did it out of respect for me…” he teased.

“That’s why I didn’t hit you with that punch. Out of respect…” she said, emphasizing those last words.

Kaj shook his head. He no longer wished to argue.

After three hours of travel, the forest had suddenly opened up before their eyes, to make way for the expanse where the city stood. Nidath was imposing—new quarters and new walls had been added to the original layout of the city. In addition, after the invasion, an expanse of huts built by refugees had developed all around the outer walls. Leaving the forest, they crossed a small stretch of plains, and then entered the hutment that surrounded the city, which had become a huge market: colorful, lively, noisy, and chaotic. There were people of all races, dwarves, elves, and humans. There were those who sold, those who bought, those who bargained, and those who argued. And they all shared one thing in common—they were ignoring the two. Kaj looked around in disbelief. It was almost like they had returned to the ore market in Freh or Lochbis. Or, even better, to the large market in Varlas. He found himself smiling, his eyes enchanted, forgetting all else for a moment.

They passed that area slowly, wending their way through noisy throngs. At a certain point, all that mess gave way to a very different area, which was no longer a hodgepodge of huts and stalls, but rather a stretch of stone and brickwork houses.

“Not so fun anymore, is it?” asked Clarice.

“No…”

Kaj was disconcerted by the poverty, so different from the previous area. Everything around them was gloomy. The houses, while more solid, were decaying and bare; the environment was smelly and depressing. The street was always full of people coming and going, but everyone was sullen and withdrawn. Some of them were busy carrying baskets with food that had apparently just been purchased at the market, while other shabbier, scruffier sorts proceeded slowly, keeping their light cloaks tightly closed and their shoulders hunched.

A little further on, majestic walls stood before Kaj’s eyes. They were tall, and decorated in places with splendid climbing ivies. The top of the walls was marked by openings for the archers, framed by simple carved motifs. The wooden gates contrasted with the light-colored stone. Kaj’s mouth was agape. From the walls, towers and spires could be seen, all slender and very white. Farther away, a larger, shining, richly decorated tower was situated, probably forming part of the royal palace.

“Welcome to Nidath,” said Clarice, proud.

“It’s incredible…”

Clarice cracked a half-smile, and headed for the door.

“By the gods! It’s really you!” exclaimed a guard.

“Inform the King immediately and let us in. It’s been a long journey,” she replied.

The gates opened. The port district was decidedly poor, and it was characterized by the very famous and picturesque river landing which had helped trade between Sahelica and Draelia flourish. Nidath had arisen there precisely to facilitate exchange between the nalnirs of Sahelica, who populated the archipelago in ancient times. It was a lively and noisy neighborhood, which, with the passing of generations, had become predominantly human. Criminality abounded, and the city guard presence was scarce and inadequate. Despite the ongoing invasion, there were some ships moored there, and the sailors were intent on moving their cargo to make room for new goods. Ever since the Reconciliation, the bustling taverns along the city road beside the Malivon River succored sailors with drinks, low-quality bar food, and prostitutes. They were next to shops with various exotic goods that gave visitors the impression this place was anything but an elven city.

They walked past another portion of the walls that divided all this from the commercial district, which was more sober and peaceful than the previous one. The construction of the buildings reflected the clearly higher social class. Kaj was surprised by the vastness of the neighborhood, to which numerous wealthy humans had moved. The paved road went uphill, and led Clarice and Kaj to the ring-walls of the “Citadel,” as it was called by humans. Upon reaching the door, Kaj was blown away by its imposing magnificence. The door opened, and the houses on the sides of the street (as well as the other structures) were made of white, grey, and ivory-colored marble; they were extremely elegant. They were decorated with coils of ivy and expertly carved geometric motifs, and connected by ethereal openwork arches that almost floated above the main road; the windows and walls were decorated with vaults, columns and lanterns. At the end of the road lay a large square, around which stood majestic temples.

Clarice let Kaj drink in the city. “Everything is so harmonious and perfect here.” He was speechless, as he hadn’t expected such beauty.

At that moment, some guards arrived, decked out to the nines. Kaj had always envied the splendor of elven armor, shiny and flawless. Crafted by expert blacksmiths, it was composed of a helmet, breastplate, and boot covers, all in steel, while the other parts were in carved leather. The cloaks they wore were in elven green velvet, and were mostly decorative. They each carried a long spear tipped with eborium alloy, a legendary elven alloy created with a rare iron ore from the distant Plateau of Dragons.