I finish tying the last strap of supple leather around my shoulder, nearly positive it won't slip off this time. I adjust the darkened steel plates on my abdomen, and pull the straps tighter. I run my fingers on the distraught and surreal engravings before I step out of the shade of the towering oak tree above me. I stretch my arms upward and yawn, soaking up the morning sun. The horizon is fields, with tall, emerald green grads stretching across it. The only thing for miles is this aged oak tree, which I slept under at midnight.
Now, I presume, it's near 6 in the morning, and I'm alone, unlike I was yesterday...
"Telerian?" I call, whipping around to see if he slept on the opposite side of the tree. He is absent from it, of course, he isn't there. I sigh as I run my pale, nimble fingers through my shoulder length silver hair. I made a light cough, and then repeat his name. "Telerian?"
"Xena." Telerian drops out of the tree, somewhat mocking me. He quickly straightens out his amber-coloured hair, and he lays his azure blue eyes on me. "You ready to get going?"
Telerian was a summerborn elf, meaning that he was born with natural sun power, and features that are distinctly summer-like. Hair, the colour of amber-- a beautiful orange like the sun; blue eyes, the colour of the tropical skies and sea to the south. His skin was fairly tanned, but not as tan as you would expect from a summerborn elf. He has freckles as well, which wasn't very regular for a summerborn elf. He has mentioned something about having a bit of springtime elf in him, but I can't recall.
I am not a summerborn elf. I am a iceborn elf, born in the midst of winter. My ears are pointed high, like upside-down icicles. My eyes are near-white, with small traces of blue. My kind of elf has been accused of being demons before, but no one actually ever tried to genocide us; out of fear, of respect, I don't know. Telerian has travelled alongside me for a long time, after we met in a old human ruin, seeking great treasure.
"Where are we going, exactly?" I inquire to him, wiggling my fingers under the leather they are fitted in.
"I don't know," I shrug, spinning on my heel to look over the horizon again. Telerian steps toward me, standing idly by my side. He wears a simple leather mage robe, coloured and stained with bright colours--green, blue, and violet--truly like a summerborn elf would. He is a mage, a mage that can bend the weather and harness electric power. I, on the other hand, am a simple rogue, using a simple red steel sword and ebony dagger.
"Where's the next city?" I ask him, cracking my knuckles.
"Um," Telerian huffs, pondering for a moment, then he points east. "Rockfall Mine Settlement is closest. Not exactly a city, but y'know... A big town."
I chuckle, and nod. "Shall we go there?"
"Well, yeah," Telerian responds, smirking, and we both trudge off east, into the fields of green.
---
Somebody--or something-- grabs me on the wrist, forcing me to stop. My eyes trail to Telerian, who seems to be in the same situation I'm in. I shudder and quickly flipped my head back to see what has grabbed me. As I lock eyes with the dark-skinned springtime elf, with curly locks of ebony-coloured hair flowing well passed her shoulders, another something knocks me to the ground. The springtime elf unhands me, and she pulls Telerian to fall on top of me, forming some sort of pile with our bodies. The springtime elf stares coldly at me, with her beautiful green eyes near glowing, ringed with a pink the shade of a blooming flower around the pupil. She has a curly bladed dagger in her hand, which is coloured vibrantly. She points it at Telerian and I menacingly.
"Who are you, a summerborn elf and an iceborn elf, to wander in our land of spring?" The springtime elf questions us, as another dark-skinned springtime elf came into view. He seems to be the same size as his counterpart, although his hair is braided down his back, and his eyes are a soft caramel colour, like the colour of deer hide. He must've been the one to push me down.
