Tearha: The Number 139

Chapter One: Demon Eyes

Black bricked walls surrounded the cell. A small electric lamp in the corridor outside the bars flitted as the only source of light. The Watcher sat on the right of two opposing metal beds, staring at the clock face of a silver pocket watch.

Adelaide Wiltkins sat opposite him, tracing the movements of his deep brown eyes as they followed the tick of the watch. From the moment they were brought together, the human had not so much as glanced in her direction. But she was used to treatments like that. It was the humans' way.

Nonetheless curious, she asked, "What are you doing?"

Without taking his eyes off the watch, he replied, "I'm looking for any anomaly or offset in the chronological order of the space-time continuum."

"Am I suppose to understand what that means?"

"Not unless you have an innate ability to sense and interpret spatial and chronological temperaments on a subatomic level."

"You humans get crazier every time I see you." She leaned into the wall. Adjusting atop the metal contraption they called a bed, snuggling into her knees and giving a bored yawn.

He finally closed the watch and slid it back in his coat pocket. "I'm not actually insane. I'm just—" He looked up, his eyes shot wide in surprise and a grin spread wide across his face. "You! You're an elf!"

Her messy short hair was as green as the leaves of the forest she lived in, still riddled with specks of the same dirt. Light freckles littered her cheeks like pebbles on the earth. Her build was lithe and tall, her skin the shade of paper. A tattered and patched green tunic covered her upper body. A pair of muddied grey trousers, a small leather belt, and knee length brown leather boots were worn below. Adelaide Wiltkins looked fit to blend into a forest should one sprout up around them. But the most outstanding of her features were not her long, sharp ears or rugged dressing. It was her eyes, whose irises were leaf green while the sclera, the whites of her eyes, were blood red. It was as if she had ruptured a vessel that bled into her stare.

Rolling those weird eyes, she replied, "Yes, I'm an elf. Don't have to be so surprised. I know you humans only ever get to see us elves in those slums you call Antipods, but we're not some animals for you to gawk at." Her tone snapped with distaste at having to talk with a human. "Inbred apes."

"Alright, alright! No need to get hostile. Sheesh. You're almost worse than the drow that shot me."

"I would shoot you too if you use that language again."

"What language? 'Hostile'?"

"You can't be that stupid." She looked on in confused frustration.

Sensing the enmity she was starting to emit, The Watcher put his hands up in peace. "Look, I'm not from around here. I don't really understand your culture all that much."

"Really?" Her tone betrayed her believe. "You don't know what d'raows means?"

Eyes wide, lips pursed, The Watcher shook his head with his best impression of a dog without a bone. She thought he just looked constipated. She scanned his face. Though hard to read, she felt he was telling the truth, which was odd to her. How foreign was he to have no idea of one of the most offensive words to use to a dark elf?

She explained, "D'raows is derogatory. It means 'death skin', or 'rotten people'."

He stared at her blankly before commenting, "That's bad."

"Yeah. It's bad."

"Wow, then I really made a mistake there. I hope that Avalas Speedrunner or whatever his name is makes it." He sat back in solemn contemplation.