Written: 8/4/23
Word Count: 1,397

I wasn't even surprised. Not really. While the outer sectors might not be able to recognize the Heads and their families on sight, it was far more normal for me to be recognized by everyone I came across at the Capital. I tilted my head, my eyes unconsciously flitting to the burdensome luggage they all carried in heavy, leather sacks. Both of the High Elves were dirty, though they had the auras of usually being clean-shaven and immaculately-dressed.

What's this, now?

The Brownie's beard, nearly the same shade as his cocoa-bean chin, was finely-trimmed to have two pointed fangs on either side of his mouth. The fellow even wore a dirtied checkered scarf peeking up above equally-dirty beige overalls, the material clearly silk.

My eyes flickered back to the gold ones belonging to the front-running High Elf. He looked...young. High Elves could last a while, but not wrinkle-free. This guy was hardly older than me.

I'd never seen him before, though, so he wasn't from a Head family. I could hardly give a yewing shit about my supposed peers, so how would I recognize someone outside of that?

"You're passing transport regulation services," I repeated out loud, turning to Runy, stroking her chiseled rump. She'd been a great help thus far, but since I didn't have any burdensome luggage I couldn't carry alone, this might be the best time to part ways.

"Why are you out here, my lady?" The gold elf asked. "If I may ask?"

Without bothering to glance at the folk, I slung my deerskin bag off of the saddle's front knob, where it had been hanging on Runy's left side for days. Poor horse. I wish I had an apple or something to give as thanks.

"Why are you fellows out here?" I raised my eyebrows, though they couldn't see the change with my back turned.

Instead of spluttering and diving into the kind of easily-spewed lies that always volleyed across the Capital, the elves and brownie stayed silent.

I suddenly felt the weight of all the useless homework stuffed inside my bag, my stomach noticing with some alarm the empty snack pouch at its front. If I didn't fall down a cliff like that messenger child indicated, I would probably starve to death before I ever found Aunt Rosetta's village. No matter what, to proceed was death.

But to go back was a nightmare worse than death. I am a High Elf, after all. If I can't be allowed to die for my burdensome pride, then how could I ever face my ancestors in the afterlife?

"You wouldn't mind returning my mare to my family, then?" I held out the cord of Runy's reins.

The golden High Elf froze a bit, his face slackening in shock. "You...what? You don't need her?"

"I'm good."

The second High Elf stepped forward, pulling the donkey behind him grudgingly. This one's face was a red-hot mess of white freckles, like a spotted deer. "My lady, there's—there's a lot of dangerous stuff ahead."

"I'm sure."

"What about your luggage?" the freckled-elve asked, a hint of concern leaking into his voice.

How sweet. I felt a smirk ready to pull at my lips and expose my canines, so I quenched it. It wasn't their fault I was allergic to caring.

"I have none," I replied, though that wasn't entirely true.

"But still..." the freckled-elve couldn't move past this, so the golden one stepped in.

Untucking one hand from beneath the straps on his pack, the elve played with the ends of his bandana, sighing. "What brings a lady like yourself out this far?"

Our words carried far across this claw mark in the earth, but there was no audience for miles and miles. Not even a stray sheep wandering in a place it couldn't return from.

"Come now," I said, my words curling with the lilt of the nobility, "you don't mean that. You know who I am. Is it any surprise I've been sent out here to die?"

The elves and brownie didn't know what to make of my honesty. And, really, wasn't that the core root of all my problems? Whenever folk looked at me, wide-eyed, just like now, after I'd only finished saying something true?

I was sick to death of that look.

"I am the infamous Elvaniac of the 11th Ring Head's family, after all." I swiped the words away with a succinct flick of my wrist. "It only makes sense for me to handle my aunt's estate. It's not intended that I return."

At the mention of my aunt, the fellows backed off. The golden elve even moved away a bit.

"Your—aunt?" he echoed, taking another step away.

I narrowed my eyes on the squirming elf. "Anything to add, good sir?"

"You..." the Brownie entered the conversation, his voice something marbled, each syllable falling straight onto the next like music. "You should rethink continuing on ahead, young miss. There's nothing pretty waiting there."

I pursed my lips. I already knew that, but... "Go on."

The Brownie dipped his head, showing me an artful arrangement of little braids all caught up in one large one. The effect made it look more like feathers than Runy's mane. "The wilds aren't nothing to scoff at, young lady, and that's where you're headed."

"You know my aunt." Knew. Whatever.

"Aye," the golden elve stepped in, tipping his head into shadows under the fading light. "She was an unquenchable monster, your aunt. A mighty rare breed."

"The kind of elva who could drink a fellow under the table, coerce him home with all the wiles in the world, bang him into oblivion, then turn around and send his ass to the dragon hunter police squad with a fogging smile across her face," the freckled-elve said reverently, hands tight on the donkey's reins like a child holding a comforting stuffie. The other two nodded their approval of this assessment.

I couldn't hide my disgust if I tried. Please don't tell me Aunt Rosetta got caught up with dragon hunters by seducing them and then turning them in? Didn't that make her some sort of predator? One just like those dragons of hers? Just like those hunters?

Gah. I really don't want to deal with a stream of jilted lovers. Maybe it would be best to just jump off this cliff right here. The messenger child didn't say it had to be an accidental death, did it?

"That's...disturbing," I said. What else could be said?

"She made a lot of enemies." The Brownie straightened back up, his piercing beetle's eyes something terrifying to behold. No whites. All black. "There are things down there you'll wish you hadn't seen. It's no place for someone like you."

Someone like me? I snorted. Out loud.

Been there, done that.

"Thanks for the information," I said, my tone bored. I stuck my thumb out, pointed back at my traveling companion. "So, you'll take her home, yeah?"

"Did you...not hear a word we just said?" The golden elve had his own look of disgust to mirror mine. I clamped down on the urge to mimic what he just said to me in as insulting a tone as I possibly could.

"Yeah, yeah." I flapped my hand again. "Consider me warned. Really. Thanks a ton. Now, if you would take Runy, here, back to the transport center. They'll know what to do with her."

With that, I patted Runy on the nose, giving her a smattering of kisses before she could snort and tear her snout out of my hand. Handing the leather rein to the golden elve, I walked away from the suspicious trio.

Waving behind me, I called out, "If you don't want me to act like the Head of Transportation and Roads' daughter, I suggest you just take the dusting horse. Funny that a bunch of illegal hunters are preaching to me about the dangers of the Western Sector. Blazing hell, wouldn't it just be easier to push me off the cliff?"

"Young lady!" the Brownie called, that tumbling voice cascading around me like an avalanche of pebbles. "You really don't want to go to the Haspa Mines!"

Haspa Mines...that was the first I'd even heard mention of Aunt Rosetta's village by name.

"Don't worry," I muttered, far too quiet for even their advanced hearing to grasp, "I won't make it that far."