Talentless

Fall

          The island was swarming with goblins.

          They had an uptilt to their nose, as if they were smellling blood. Every time they looked at me, I was scared they would take me away. I learned a few new names. Antigone. Creon. Atreus. Glauce was framed. She would face a full Tribunal tomorrow, an event I heard all of the plans for her punishment, but never saw her face since that night.

          Framed.

          Because every time someone mentions her, my chest sinks a little more, because, as terribel as she was, she was innocent. I convinced Semele to defend her in the Tribunal. It would be rare that a gnome ever set foot at an elvin court, but, if there was anyone who still believed in good, it was Semele.

          I closed my eyes against the sun.

          This is the day I will die. Whoever I was before won't be the person who wakes up tomorrow. Because today is the day my life will disappear, and I'm not sure what will happen next. 

         Because today is the day of Jacen's planting. 

         Elves are creatures of art first and foremost. They take great pride in their tradition. I was dressed in the finest green fabrics, which only made me feel like a walking corpse. A few goblins took me to the Wanderling Woods. I tried to learn their names, desperate for everything else to think about. It was like walking to an execution. 

          You'd ask me what his Wanderling looked like. But the best thing I can say is...I don't know. I remember it being a lot smaller than the others, with rough bark that seemed to fall apart the moment you touched it. I remember teal leaves, not like the classic vibrant hue that was present in all other Vacker wanderlings in their mausoleum, but sad and even pathetic, almost. Jacen Vacker's death was kept a secret, and so was his funeral. It was just Glauce and me and the goblins that kept her secure.

          It was the first time since the incident that I saw Glauce. I can't say I was excited. Her straight back, her square shoulders, the sharp curve of her cheeks suggested she was healthy. The rest of her did not. Her skin, even at the worst times, still had a pinkish look to it. Now alll her skin was drawn tightly, her cheeks grey, like her blood was made of molten silver. Her lips were painted in a vibrant red, as if to make up for the lost life, but only made it look like they were stained in blood. Green was traditional attire for an elvin funeral, but she only wore a long, black cloak  that covered her arms, her legs, her feet. When she walked, you could see a bit of red peaking from underneath. Her dark hair, usually pinned with countless gems into elaborate updos, was pulled together into a bun so tightly the skin around her forehead looked like it hurt. Her teal eyes were ice blue again, but this time they stayed that way. She did not smile the face that stirred my nightmares, but she did not frown, either. She watched the Wanderling slowly drink up the water and sprout and grow and crinkle its leaves after touching the sun's rays. She looked more dead than alive.

          I fell sick a few hours after the Planting. Semele left me some medicine, but left to attend to the preperations for Glauce's Tribunal. I woke up in the middle of the night in sweat and chills at the same time, with a knotty feeling in my stomach, as if I were about to vomit. 

          The Council is all of secrets. Every time I met them, they washed my memories away as fast as they came, right after getting all the information they wanted. If it weren't for their dress up, we'd see them as criminals. Jacen's murder was as classified as can be, the act the worst stain in elvin history. I once asked Semele if it was worthy of a forgotten secret. Semele paused before saying it was, but it had few enough people involved that all the Council had to do was wipe it out. She then paled---which I'm not sure is possible for a gnome with green skin---and dismissed herself.