Chương 301: 3.2

The Elf continued to match their pace all through the woods. Following along the trail behind their party ever with a relaxed gait. Its presence smothered all words between Jewel's party. Every footman had heard a story about elves after all. Jewel spared glances with Paul but despite the familiarity borne of their years together only so much could be said so subtly. She had started signing with Valasect Cant using Gem's hands but those black eyes had slid to follow the finger's motion as soon as she began.

A single raised hand and a twist of the wrist from their fae escort in perfect far sign of greeting was enough to make Jewel assured that there would be no secret kept through the silent language of her Demesne. It was past the second hour of their walk through the woods that Jewel felt the pressure of the silence grow too strong and as the lady of their party it was her duty to take the risk." Might I ask, oh fair traveler, is there a name we may call you?"

Jewel was not certain if the stories that the fae elves could actually steal names that were given was true. Or if such a risk was one she even had to fear as a Tyrant Wyrm. But she'd not felt a hint of sorcery from the figure beyond the simple bubbling joy and accommodation the world seemed to hold for them. But in the same breath of those tales it was mentioned that for whatever reason many an offense had been made with the elves by innocuously asking them for their true names. Hence the delicate phrasing.

The smile upon the elve's lips widened, the brows raised up in surprise, and then relaxed once more towards something wistful and somehow tired.

"You may call me-" The Elf paused, its eyes wandered the trees around and over them before focusing on one ahead and as they walked it extended a hand. Reaching up into the air. And from the foliage above a single green leaf fell from the branches ahead of them. The moment stretched as they walked. Jewel followed the leaf's path with both her wyrm and spawn's eyes, and she spotted Muriel doing the same from her horse.

That single fallen bit of foliage swept and looped in the wind, playfully sweeping around Jewel's horns and over the rest of the party before settling in the outstretched palm of the elf. Where black eyes fixed upon it, seeming utterly enthralled by the single leaf. Even longer the moment dragged, the sound only that of the forest and the horses and shifting leather of tack. Finally that sweet foreign yet familiar voice spoke again. Filling into the quiet gaps in the noise of the wood.

"Alder." It took a moment for Jewel to realize that the figure was finishing their sentence after so long. Then as if it was nothing of consequence at all despite how it had enthralled it, the now named 'Alder' let the leaf fall from their palm. All was quiet for a while. Then in a breath and three strides the elf bounded ahead of the party to a place alongside Jewel. The wind itself muted its passing, the earth soaked up the beat of its toes. Three strides, each as long as Jewel's own body.

Each bound leapt faster than an arrow. And every step's sound was completely lost amidst the murmur of the wood. Jewel braced herself to not react, but Muriel and the footmen moved ever so slightly for their weapons in spite of the danger of insult. In the dirt behind those leaps there was not a sign. Not even disturbed branches in the wind of its passing. Not even the press of toes to mark footprints in the earth. Only to Jewel's wyrmish senses could she feel the presence of its contact.

Where the Elf touched soil and made it cheer. Dirt shifting gladly back into place after their contact was done. The wyrm had to struggle to keep her scales from bristling. Completely without concern or care for the prior act that voice flowed once more.

"And as you have given such courtesy and grace what is best that I call you oh Wyrm of Man? Child of children?" If this fae creature had held a sword, or even a hunting knife? Moving like that? Half her party could have their throats slit before she could move. And there was not a breath of sorcery or working to it at all! She felt no faux flame of ritual. No divine intervention cutting in the world. The elf simply moved and was. It was so natural as to be disconcerting. As right as the stone and trees around them.

Everything the Elf did was simply part of the world. Stolen novel; please report. There was not even a scent to the creature that was not that of the woods around it! Again Jewel was unsure but if there was a risk of some sorcery to names she was the most likely to be safe. No other form of working had been able to touch her without her consent so far.

"I would have you use my name or title oh fair Alder, Countess by rank and Jewel by name." Just in case she offered only her own name and not her family's. Alder's smile widened and its shoulders shook. The Laughter was bright, loud, it was almost like a bird song. The wind in the trees dove and scooped up the sound and spread it far up into the canopy and out into the woods before sweeping in again to echo it back.

"Oh! Bravery! It is good to hear bravery in your words Wyrm Countess of Men, Jewel by Name. To hear so many tales of your elders and fore bearers and hear such fears and still state your true mother's given name?" Well at least that seemed like a good response. And she felt no tug on her flame at all. Jewel pursed her lips a moment before working them around her words as carefully as if it was Gem speaking instead of her Wyrmish self.

"It was actually Father given, Mother accepted me after he did." The look of delight softened, again the wistful crease around those pitch black eyes. The dappled swimming colors of dark and pale tans and browns flowing over Alder's skin as they passed under the canopy's shade.

"A Father's given name is no less a treasure. Family earned and family borne cut apart in mind are among the foulness made by the Uruk. Do not mistake the custom of these words for truth. I speak them yes, but only because there are no tongues or ears or hearts that know my truest words but my own." Jewel considered before replying. Keeping her tone civil as she could. The mercurial moods of elves was also among the stories.

Going from joy to sorrow in but a word was often warned, going from delight to murderous wroth in the same breath equally so.

"You speak of Uruk often, but I admit I have neither read nor heard of any such place or people. Despite you claiming my family are children of them." The Elf's expression lit up with a kind of fierce joy. A feral predatory thing. Those teeth were sharp and pointed in a way more like Jewel's own than any smile she had seen on men.

"For the best that you don't. They were a foul and terrible thing, a people who made naught but ugliness. Who crippled their children to this very day and hour. Who brought ruin upon all. To not know them is good. If only all their foulness could be equally washed away by time." She considered those words and then looked again at the woods.

"You said this wood was stunted and then apologized that I'd never seen otherwise... What do you mean by that? What was it like before?" Alder shrugged.

"I had not wandered this land in those times. The marking stones which would sing for me have all worn down and long since been buried or broken." Again that sad wistfulness around the eyes despite the smile.

"But my seven-mothers and six-fathers once walked this place and they sang to me its song when I was still growing." Another long pause filled with the birds, and the sound of moving men and horses. The dark eyes swept the trees, the sky and the winding dirt path of the road ahead before returning to Jewel.

"Naught remains of tree, root, stone, brook, spring or even sky from their songs. All gone and ruined, torn, broken and turned over by the crushing step and greedy touch of Uruk's git. Starved and drained by their multitudes." Jewel pondered that, considering what she would ask next. But before she could, the Elf Alder stepped back into the woods, as lightly and silently as it had done anything. And to every single one of her senses it was then just as totally gone. The action put the rest of her party on alert.

Muriel was silent as she watched Jewel for signs of where their fae companion had gone but the Countess could only shake her head. Which made her captain's brow raise high before clenching in a worried furrow. It was in this state that an unfortunate party of traders came around the bend in the wooded road. The tension in Jewel and her entourage's posture spooking the caravan terribly.

Footsoldiers and a dragon silently marching at near battle readiness putting the tradesmen and their mercenaries and guides on edge but Paul smoothed it over and Jewel's own assurances seemed to calm any tension. After the traders passed Jewel finally let out her breath.

"Well, I suppose I can say I have now treated with Gods, Wizards, Kings and Elves." Paul and Smithson offered a strained laugh at her jest. It was honestly a poor try but the release of tension soon had everyone else laughing. Relief at escaping unscathed and whole from a moment of myth. Soon it settled into boasts and passing comments on what precisely they would make of the encounter. What boasts and embellishments they would use to enrich their honor and legend, and Jewel's own esteem.

It was the way of Knights and soldiers. To tell a legend of life. And the joviality stuck with the party until they finally stopped for the day at a known and vetted well. They were settling in to camp at the waystation setting up tents in the clearing beside the road. The space was unoccupied by any other group. So there was room for all to space themselves comfortably with their tents. Dariusz had just finished bringing the cooking fire to a blaze when Alder emerged just as silently as it had departed.

Stepping out of the woods in a manner that reminded Jewel of when she had not quite been able to tell that a Wizard was imminently arriving by sorcery. The elf was just simply there at the border of the woods! Nonchalant as can be in that sheer silk garment which barely hid anything of its skin despite covering nearly all of it. A stag slung over one shoulder that was larger and certainly heavier than the elf itself. But for all the weight and mass it impacted Alder's posture and step not at all.

Even burdened with such a weight that would have strained two men, Alder didn't even leave the grass or clover bowed in its passing! The flowing soothing voice lilted in Rochford intonations as the figure walked up to where Dariusz had been preparing for a traveler's stew.

"But in spite of all the despoiling, this land's bounty is sufficient." Alder took Dariusz' knife without even a word. Then with a fluidity and grace that made every hunter Jewel had ever seen seem a stumbling invalid began stripping down the stag's corpse. The entire arrival and the stilling silence it brought had taken seconds! The prep of the carcass was similarly swift.

It took Jewel staring at the Elf as they set to work skinning, gutting and portioning the stag for cooking and then setting several cuts to roast over the fire wrapped in some kind of savory smelling vine before she realized this was apparently part of the same conversation Alder had interrupted three hours ago!