Enmity

Chapter III

The shrill chirping of robins sounded throughout the city, waking Thalaben from his sweet slumber. His eyes shuddered opened and briefly stared at the ceiling, before fatigue shut them again.

   The elf was sprawled across his queen-sized bed, his pillows, blankets and sheets all in a state of disarray. A thin wool blanket was wrapped around his waist, comfortably covering his legs while failing to provide any warmth or gentleness to his upper body.

   A morning chill ran through the crisp air, slightly tinkling the bare skin on Thalaben’s arms and face. It was an uncomfortable feeling, similar to a spider or an insect crawling on bare skin. Thalaben shivered and grabbed for his wool blanket, which he then pulled up to his neck.

   The chill went away almost instantly and was replaced with a more pleasant warmth spreading throughout his body. He lay motionless for minutes afterwards, savouring the comforting, cosy feeling that the blanket had to offer.

   The feeling was almost addictive, a drug to enslave any in the soft confines of their bed. However his mind was already awake and dosing off back into sleep was virtually impossible. So, instead he attempted to open his eyes once again. This time, his effort was an immediate success.

   Still laying lazily in his bed, Thalaben searched the room with his weary gaze. He didn't know what he was looking for, though felt the search was necessary, and it turned out it was.

   The terrace, which stood metres away from the bed, hadn't been closed off the night before. The grey curtains that hung on either side of the large stone arch that divided the two areas, swung slightly from side to side, revealing the presence of a breeze entering the bedroom.

   Thalaben hesitated. He had been so tired the night before that he had forgotten to close the doors to the terrace.

   After a few more minutes of enjoyment, Thalaben threw the blanket off of himself. The surrounding coldness immediately engulfed his entire body causing small bumps to rise on his arms and legs. The feeling made him want to crawl back under the blanket, but he resisted the addicting feeling.

   The elf slid his legs off the bed and firmly placed the soles of his feet on the wooden floor. It was cold, more so than the air. Thalaben curled his toes inwards and felt the grains of wood rub against his sensitive toes.

   He carefully stood from his bed and stretched his arms out, exhaling a yawn in the process. His back was stiff and his thighs sore. A faint pounding echoed in the back of his head: a feeling he typically got in the morning, after a long night.

   The multi-coloured sky lingered peacefully outside, visible from open terrace. Thalaben’s eyes glistened as he took notice of the yellow, orange and reds hues staining the atmosphere. The sun was barely extending its rays over the horizon, however it was still not visible and probably would remain hidden for another half hour.

   Thalaben proceeded towards the terrace. It was a long, but narrow space, tiled in dark marble and complete with black iron railings. Though what it lacked in charm, was compensated for the view it provided.

   The entire city of Labition loomed below, visible from the terrace up to its borders. Thalaben neared the edge of the terrace and leaned forward, shifting his entire bodyweight on the railing.

   He quietly observed Labition for a few minutes. The city was empty and silent. Not a single soul walked down the city’s many alleyways. It was essentially a deserted city in the morning, nothing but geese making their presence known.

   The sky was cloudless and the temperature just hovering below twenty degrees Celsius. It was lovely weather for the end of summer, some people believing it was a gift from the goddess, Adria.