Journey of the Half-Elf - Book 1

Chapter XVI - End Of The First Path

The last undulating trail of smoke had ascended from the black woodpile. As the outlines of wings flew across the sunlit earth, Guinevere shuffled her skinny body as she opened her eyes. Finding herself looking straight up at the Sun, she instinctively groaned and turned away, before slowly propping herself up on her unscarred elbows.

"Father," She called, trying to wake him up. "Father! Wake up!" She said louder. "It is morning now."

Awoken by his daughter's voice, Gastan quickly blinked as he sat up from the ground. "Ah, morning Gwinna. You alright?" He asked with a smile, rubbing his hazel eyes.

"I am fine, Father. We need to go home now." Guinevere replied. "But first, I need to urinate. Then I need to wash my hands and... brush my teeth, and bathe. But before all that, I need to drink and eat. And so do you."

"You wanna piss, huh?" Gastan asked, giving his scraggly beard a quick scratch. "Right, let's go find somewhere with water. Dunno where you'll get a cloth though." He said, standing up with his arm held out to gently help her off the ground.

"Thank you," Guinevere told him, "I know this is inconvenient, I am sorry, Father."

"Kid, don't apologise for shit that's out your control. My job's to take care of you, no matter what." He informed his daughter, placing his palm up on her cheek, swabbing her pretty freckles with his thumb. "Come on then," Gastan moved his hand to her shoulder, "Let's get a move on. This summer heat's doin' my fucking head in."

As they made their way out of the Manor, they were met with the most astonishing sight beside the entrance: Their two horses that had fled last night, the saddlebags still bulging and weighty.

"I..." Guinevere held her burnt hand to her mouth, "I don't believe this. What?!" She squealed gleefully, exchanging a grin with her father as she rubbed their velvety black manes.
"I thought that they were gone forever. I thought that we would have to walk back home. This is..."

"Convenient?" Za'elteblaidd interjected, stood against the tall stone wall with his gold eyes closed and his arms crossed.

"Za'elteblaidd! You're here!"  Guinevere exclaimed.

"So, I'm guessing you brought the horses?" Gastan enquired, opening his saddlebags to inspect the contents, amazed to find all his things still in there.

"Yes. You are welcome." He replied as he opened his eyes, his deep voice now pleasantly warm as the Sun above his grey head.

"I do not know how to repay you, Za'elteblaidd. We would be walking home in this sweltering heat if not for you." Guinevere said as she looked far up at him.

"You can repay me, by leaving this place for another.
Princess."

All of a sudden, her grateful expression turned to one of shock. "H-How did you know?" The Half-Elf asked.

"I knew your great-grandmother, Guinvaera, though she did not know me. None of her descendants did. From the moment I came here, I felt your connection to this Manor, her lifelong home that she built with her brother. I realise now that he rests next to Aeledwyn. I must admit, I did not know who Ela was, Gastan.

Guinevere... answer me this. How did they both die? I saw those stakes and those remnants of kindling. And the charred ground... what happened?"

This was the third time she had to retell her shameful, heart-wrenching
story — she hated telling Dawn, and hated telling her father. And now, Za'elteblaidd wanted to hear it.

"Gwinna, you don't have to say nothing." He told her, stroking her shoulder as he turned to the old Elf. "Mate, just don't, alright? She ain't in the mood."