Journey of the Half-Elf - Book 1

Chapter XVII - A Fresh Start

Gastan and Guinevere were now just a few minutes away from the Border's entrance, galloping as fast as the fierce wind that flew through their hair - their former house was hours away.
On either side of the winding main path, stood a number of small and repaired homes scattered across a wide area, devoid of Elven influence for the last 16 years. If they were not driven out further north, the modest Elf peasants who had once inhabited these parts were slaughtered like lambs, their magical yet untrained flesh being fuel for the bloodied soil above them. In their place, were the members of the four races too poor to survive in the Four Cities - only those with coin spilling from their sides could afford a week or two in either of them.

"Stop for a sec." Gastan told her, suddenly pulling the reins on Gael's neck, prompting Guinevere to do the same. "Before we go on, I don't want you gettin' caught out." He buried his hand into his satchel, pulling out his black bandana. "Put this on and tie it around your ears. Make sure they're fully covered. Let's hope it works."

After doing so, Guinevere resumed her gentle trot down the path, taking in the warm summer air around her.

"We're here, kid." Gastan said to her. Pulling on their reins, they brought their horses to a stop before dismounting. While most of the diverse villagers kept to themselves and got on with their daily tasks, a few felt obliged to silently glare up at the woman as she passed by them, her head kept attached thanks to the bandana.

"Is there a stable for our horses, Father?" Guinevere asked, stroking her nameless horse's cheek as the four of them approached the Border entrance.

"Yeah, but you gotta pay rent on it." He replied, taking an apple from his satchel and easing it into Gael's mouth. "It's been more than ten years since I last came here. House prices are probably way higher now, even the shit ones with rats in 'em. Rent, food, stable rent, new shoes and clothes for you... I'll be bled like a pig.... fuck."

"We will be fine, Father. I am sure of it. To help you, I will get a job. I will clean, cook, whatever it takes to assist you with our expenses. I refuse to be lazy." Guinevere said.

"Yeah, about that..." His voice softened for this next part. "It's easier said than done. You've never had a job so you don't know what's it like. It takes time and effort to get a good one, but if you're desperate for work and you don't mind being pissed on then...

Earlier, I told you about how Elves are treated here, how you should expect to get sneered at and spit at. Well, first I want you to be wearing that bandana all the time when you're out in public. Don't ever take it off once. I can't risk us gettin' found out.
And second, for women wanting easy jobs fast, it's either waitress or... whore. And no fucking way am I letting you go down that route."

"Of course, Father." She returned in a softened voice. "Mother always taught me how degenerate that line of work is. I would sooner die."

"Good girl." Gastan smiled. "Now, the queue's up ahead. Keep your head down, don't talk to anyone here.
But if you do talk, I want you to try talking... like me. Not exactly like me but just... less you. You understand? I know it'll take time but... try your best, kid."

"Of course- I mean... Yep." She gently chuckled. "That's.. gonna... be hard."

"One day at a time, Gwinna." He smiled. "Look, if I can, I'll buy you a scarf for your neck, or a big cloak. I can't imagine how it feels to have it showing like that. But honestly, burns are less suspicious than your ears."

"I know, Father. Thanks." Guinevere told him.

"Right, here we go. Remember, stay quiet. If we get asked something, I'll do the talking." Gastan instructed her, joining the long queue alongside his daughter.