3. Xas

Xas

  • The Halfling Defence League

    Narfell account: HalflingRogue

    Character: Xas'Melloric Veyri

    Part I: Early On
    A young boy sat on the banks of a stream. He was not a remarkable boy, though he tended to stick out when compared to his peers. A long, slender frame gave him a gangly look, as of one who has grown perhaps more than they should have. Short silver hair framed a high cheek boned face, parting around the long pointed ears that stuck nearly past the top of his head. Dark blue, slightly mournful eyes gazed at his reflection in the water that moved languidly in front of him. Idly he reached out a hand and dragged it along the water’s surface, distorting his image with the ripples.
    He’d always loved this spot. Sometimes he thought that was why his father hated it so much. There wasn’t any other reason he could see: the trees that crowded the stream’s banks were tall, and their branches gave a lovely amount of shade, but let in just enough sunlight to let you bask in it if you wanted to. Occasionally a kingfisher would dive at the water, sometimes coming away with a scaled prized clutched in his claws. The stream burbled gently and the grass was a vibrant green… yet without fail, his father always reprimanded him whenever he found out that he’d spent his time there.
    It wasn’t the stern, sometimes harsh words that bothered the boy. Nor was it the punishments that often followed them. It was the look of disappointment in his father’s eyes when he delivered them. It stabbed through him like a knife sinking deeper into his skin with each moment he was under it.
    Raising his gaze from the water, the boy looked around cautiously before leaning over the embankment, a foot or so above water level. Reaching a lanky arm out, he fumbled about before finding the hollow he’d made in the bank’s soft dirt and reached inside it, withdrawing a large, long piece of wood. The wood looked as if it was on its way to becoming something, but had a great distance to go before it achieved its goal. Leisurely the boy withdrew a short knife from his belt and set to carving. A smile spread over his face as shavings fell across his crossed legs. Each stroke of the knife brought him closer to the object he sought.
    “Xas’Morellic!”
    The boy’s long ears perked and he immediately tensed. With a quickness and efficiency surprising from such a seemingly awkward body the knife was sheathed and the wood replaced in its hiding place. Rising to his feet and brushing the flecks of wood from his tunic and pants, he turned and jogged through the woods towards the sound of his father’s voice. He readied himself for the words, and the punishment that he knew would follow. But there was never any way to prepare for the eyes.

    Part II: School, A Few Decades Later
    Xas gave an internal sigh and tried to take in the words of the book once more. The teacher droned on at the front of the classroom, expounding the importance of proper hand movements. Xas stared at the weathered page of the spellbook. Va Salim Asmod. It just wouldn’t sink in. Xas ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back with some mild irritation. He had been letting it grow, and it came down to his shoulders now, often getting in his face. With the onset of adulthood he had succeeded only in getting taller and no less skinny. However, new, lean muscles now corded his arms and chest, marks of his progress in the skill (though he thought of it as more of an art) that he dearly wished he were practicing now.
    He quickly glanced up at his teacher. Seeing that he was still involved in an explanation of some of the darker consequences of a spell backfiring, Xas risked a look out the window. The sky was a lovely blue, and a light breeze swayed the taller blades of grass gently, sending a wave across the fields that stretched out on all sides of the large stone building he was in.
    “Veyri!”
    The loud use of his surname jolted Xas from his wistful contemplation. Turning back to the front, he saw that not only was the teacher regarding him with annoyance, but the attention of the entire class had turned to him. He felt his cheeks go a pale pink, and it only worsened as the teacher stalked up the aisle and dragged him from his seat.
    “Perhaps you’d like to demonstrate a proper casting, sir Veyri, as you’ve obviously mastered it well enough that you do not feel the need to pay attention?”
    “No sir,” Xas mumbled, suddenly finding his feet intensely interesting as blood rushed to his face. “Sorry sir.”
    “No no, I’m sure we could all learn something from it,” the teacher intoned, placing a nasty emphasis on learn.
    Xas slowly raised his head. What had the words been? Vas Sal...Salin...Alod? He spoke, waving his hands in the best imitation of the teacher that he could conjure from the brief amount of attention he’d payed to him, and...
    FOOMF.
    To his credit, Xas beat the flames on his teacher’s arm out very quickly, with the aid of a nearby cloak. Once he was extinguished, the teacher appeared to have momentarily lost control of his vocal cords, sputtering and growing gradually redder and redder. The barely restrained laughter that peppered the room around him didn’t help. Mortified, he sank back onto his bench and sat down as low as he possibly could, while the teacher had added some rather extravagant hand motions of his own to the unintelligible noises issuing from his mouth, perhaps in hopes of being better understood. Xas thought he’d got the point.

    Part III: Violet

    The rest of the day passed in a vague haze of misery. Unwilling to draw any more attention to himself, Xas stared dutifully at his book until his eyes hurt, hoping that some of it would start to make sense. Finally, once the sun had turned a blazing red and was just beginning to edge underneath the horizon, the teacher told them to pack up and leave. Grateful, Xas quickly gathered his books, dumping them into his satchel, and was surprised when someone tapped his shoulder. He turned and was doubly surprised to be looking up into the face of a pretty girl who sat across from him on his right.
    “Um...could I have my cloak back, please...?” She asked hesitantly. Shiny, straight brown hair was parted neatly to either side of her face, hiding her, he knew, thoroughly round ears.
    “Y-...your cloak?” Xas said stupidly, before his eyes traveled down to his hand and widened in horror. He’d kept the cloak clenched in his hand this whole time. The brown, singed parts seemed to stick out far more than they had before as he looked down at it and, with another small sigh, held it out to her, mumbling an apology.
    “Oh it’s all right!” She said in a rush, flashing him a nervous smile, blushing slightly. Xas looked at her. She looked back, still smiling. Why wasn’t she leaving?
    “Yes...well...goodbye then...” Xas wasn’t sure why she was looking at him like that, but it was giving him an odd, uncomfortable sensation in his stomach. Hurriedly getting to his feet, he attempted to leave and promptly stumbled over the bench. Shooting out one hand to catch himself, his chest still thumped painfully against the table behind him. A few laughs came from the students who had not yet left. His face feeling as if it were on fire, he pushed himself up and tried to bolt, but found his way was still blocked by the pretty girl with brown hair. Having rushed forward, he found himself nearly pressed against her before he was able to halt his momentum. She was far too close...her eyes were green he noticed...and her expression seemed to be worried, not laughing...
    With a last, slightly strangled “sorry!” he edged past her quickly and hurried out of the class, the laughter of the other students ringing in his ears. He thought he could distinguish his teacher’s chuckle amongst the rest.
    Slinging his own cloak around his shoulders, he slowed his walk to a defeated trudge once he had put sufficient distance between the schoolhouse and himself. He hated being the only elf in the school. It felt like everyone was looking to him to have some natural aptitude for magic, and resenting him for undoubtedly looking down his nose at them. Then, when they saw he didn’t have nearly as much talent as half of the normal, human students in the class they’d promptly started looking down their noses at him. He’d been there for the last ten years, after his father had finally given up on trying to teach him and turned him over to the local, more rustic mage school in desperation. Xas was trying, and he’d made some progress. He could certainly do more magic than the average peasant, but it simply wouldn’t work for him like it would for most of the others.
    A twig snapped behind him, bringing his mind out of his dark thoughts as he whirled around to find...that girl again. She’d frozen once he’d turned around, and was looking at him with those green eyes once more. Xas looked back, puzzled and wary. Her light blue dress was plain, but clung to her in some ways that he couldn’t help but notice, along with the two small, white teeth she was biting her lower lip with. A few seconds awkward silence crept by before she spoke.
    “ I’m Violet.”
    Xas nodded slightly. He’d heard her name before, he simply hadn’t remembered it until now. He didn’t feel the need to say his. No doubt she knew it well enough after hearing their teacher yell it so many times. When he offered no more response, she took another step closer, looking less nervous, and furrowing her brow slightly in...what? Anger? Determination? She wasn’t going to try to get him to pay for the cloak was she?
    “...would you like to walk me home?” She asked, her brows so far down now that he’d backed up when she’d almost reached him in fear of being hit. The question served to stun him far more than any physical blow, however.
    “Er...sure...” He said after a moment of staring at her uncomprehendingly, shifting his book satchel over his back. “You live...?”
    “Just around the bend,” She said, pointing a finger back the way they had come. He nodded, numbly falling into step beside her. Once he’d agreed to walk her home, her expression had lightened considerably. She was smaller than him, but not as much as his mother, who he towered over. None of the students were as small as his parents though...many of the boys were as tall as him.
    They walked together in silence, following the path back and around a copse of trees to the village proper until she stopped in front of a cottage, more or less indistinguishable from the ones around it. She turned to him, books clutched in both her hands and looked up at him, and rested her green eyes on his face once more. Xas readjusted his cloak uncomfortably. Why did she keep staring at him like that?
    “Well...goodnight then.” She said abruptly and opened the door, sparing him one last glance over her shoulder before she shut it. Xas continued to stare at the door for a few seconds before he shook his head, hoping to clear it, but succeeded only in getting it in his face again. His stomach still felt as though it had contracted to half its normal size as he turned and walked towards his own home which was deeper in the woods, wondering whether this was supposed to be a good feeling or a bad one.

    At the end of the next day, as Xas gathered up his books and left the classroom, he was again confronted by Violet, who had the same request as the previous day. Still confused, but feeling oddly pleased, he agreed. They were halfway to her house before she spoke.
    “I like your hair.”
    Xas gave a small snort.
    “I can’t stand it. I only wear it like this because my father thinks it should be. More proper or something.”
    As soon as he’d said this, he immediately regretted it. Giving a small “Oh...”, Violet had turned her gaze downward, her face falling. Desperate to make it up to her, though unsure why, Xas racked his brain for something to say.
    “I like yours though...it’s very shiny, like a, uh, a...a...chestnut.” He regretted speaking infinitely more, but perked up when he heard her giggle. His face flushed slightly, but he shared a nervous smile with her before they returned to looking at the path ahead until they had reached her home. She gave him another look over her shoulder before she closed the door this time too.
    A routine quickly developed. Once class was done, Violet would wait by the door, where Xas would meet her and walk her home. By the end of the second week of this, Xas found himself talking freely with her, and feeling slightly brighter every time she flashed him her quick, white toothed smile. But when she asked him what he was doing on his day off tomorrow, his face fell.
    “I’m...busy.” He said, getting the second word out as quickly as he could, sorry but stalwart. He had something to do, and he wouldn’t give up his once chance during the week to do it, even for her. However, this statement didn’t perturb her quite as much as he’d thought.
    “Busy doing what?” She gazed at him with wide green eyes, as part of the yellow light coming out of her cottage’s windows sprayed across her.
    “Busy...doing...” He licked his lips nervously. “Something by the stream.”
    “Where by the stream?”
    “Right along the bank, about two hundred paces from the path.”
    She had nodded airily and walked through her door, giving him a larger smile than usual when she turned this time before closing it.

    Xas came out of his reverie alert and eager, quickly grabbing his bag of books to give the pretense of studying before hurrying out of his large, two storied stone house. Jogging, he laughed. It promised to be a very good day. The sky was filled with puffy white clouds, taking it in turns to extinguish the sun before letting it shine once more. The first chill of autumn was in the air, and some of the leaves were just starting to turn gold overhead as he hurried towards his favorite spot.
    Upon reaching it, he immediately went to the bank and reached his hand under it, pulling out, with near reverence, a longbow. He had finished carving it long ago. The wood, once rough from his unskilled cuts, had been worn smooth by extensive contact with his hands. Sitting cross-legged, he laid the shaft across his legs and took a string from a pocket in his satchel. As he had done countless times before, he stretched it taut between the two ends. It was a shoddy job, he knew, but he didn’t care. His father would have known if he’d gotten the fletcher to make him one. That was why he’d made his own arrows as well. Going to a hollowed out trunk he’d only discovered a year previously, he reached in and carefully took them out, feeling the texture of the crow feathers he’d had to use.
    He straightened up, a small smile across his face. He placed an arrow against the string and pulled it back. With a light laugh he took aim at a knot in a tree in the distance and let the projectile fly. With a light zip it took off and landed with a small, solid thunk in the dead center of the warped wood. He loped off to retrieve it, then returned and took aim at a thin branch. Zip. It fell to earth, cut off cleanly from the tree. He took aim at another target, and another. Zip zip. He smiled, content, as he retrieved the projectiles. He usually hit what he was aiming at. But just the feeling of the bow in his hands, the strain of pulling back an arrow, the release of tension when it was released; these things alone were good enough.
    He wasn’t sure how long he was shooting before Violet arrived. He didn’t even notice she was there before she gave a small gasp as one of his arrows hit home. He turned smoothly, a small smile still on his face. She looked pretty, as usual. Her garb was simple, a light green dress that set off her eyes very nicely. She seemed slightly taken aback.
    “I didn’t know you used a bow...” She skipped up and peered at him interestedly. When his expression remained unchanged after a few seconds’ silence, she said, “I didn’t know you smiled this much either, Xas’Morellic”
    Xas grinned sheepishly.
    “Please...just call me Xas,” The grin slipped somewhat. “Xas’Morellic’s just what my father calls me when he’s angry...”
    To shake himself of the bad thought he turned, nocked another arrow and fired. A long abandoned bird’s nest was skewered. Violet watched him appraisingly. She sat down, leaning back against a tree, merely observing him. He was, again, unaware of how much time had passed before he set down the bow, and came and sat cross-legged, leaning back against the tree as well.
    “Do you always come here?” Violet turned and looked at him. Xas sighed and looked up, watching the leaves shift in the wind.
    “Only whenever I can...”
    He heard the rustle of her dress as she scooted closer.
    “Why do you go to that school when you hate it so much?”
    “For my father,” Xas replied and gave a great weary sigh. “He’s wanted me to follow in his steps so badly....but I just can’t do it. He can do incredible things. He just says...something, and waves his hands around, and he’ll shoot flames out, or turn into a bird or or or...I don’t know...”
    Xas trailed off. He held his hands up and looked at them with a bitter smile. “All these are good for is that, though.” He gestured to the bow. “And he won’t settle for that.”
    A small hand reached out and took one of his. Xas’s eyes widened, as the hands, one of which surely could not be his own, lowered until they rested on the ground, fingers entwined. A soft head rested on a shoulder that he was certain did not belong to him as someone whispered.
    “That’s silly.”
    While this surely was not happening to him, Xas thought it nice to pretend it was. Eyes closed, he let his head slip onto the one by his and smiled.

    Part IV: Trouble

    Xas felt far happier than he could remember having been over the next couple of weeks. Violet was now his constant companion from the moment he left school to the time he went home. This hardly improved his standing with his classmates, of course. In fact, it only worsened it. No longer restricting themselves to simply laughing at him when he fumbled up himself, they went out of their way to trip him, jar his hand when copying spells to scrolls, and make him drop any fragile spell components he carried. Xas saw the dark looks they shot him and knew it was only fear of his father that kept them from actually beating him to a pulp. But what did that matter? Whenever he stumbled, Violet helped him back up. When a bottle slipped from his fingers, she was there, helping to mop the dark stain from the floor. She was his guardian angel, his confidante, and his one friend.
    Xas’s spell work got, if anything, shoddier. Instead of trying desperately to pay attention to lessons, he now spent his hours gazing dreamily into space, reliving particularly happy moments he had spent with Violet by the stream. Often he would simply stand and shoot, retrieving his arrows at intervals while she sat, leaning against a trunk and avidly reading a spellbook, occasionally mouthing words and flicking her hands without looking up. Xas might not have had much talent with the Weave, but Violet was a natural. She could already shoot jets of dazzling color from her fingers, fire silver projectiles more accurate even than Xas’s arrows, and was lately taking great pleasure in changing his hair from a silver to a painfully bright pink, red, or green. Other times they would simply lie on their backs and talk, during which more poured out of Xas’s mouth than he thought was possible.
    He told her about his father, and how he looked at him sometimes. He told her about his mother, who wandered about their house, humming idly and flitting about her garden. How when he was lectured and she was in the house, she simply sat there with her lips pursed and a worried furrow in her brow. Violet listened, nodding and glancing over at him, her long brown hair spread out on the grass that was quickly becoming littered with leaves. He often wondered what the people in the village put her through on his account, but she never mentioned it, and he, not wanting to pry, didn’t either.
    Unfortunately, Xas was far too involved with being happy and thinking of just how large and expressive Violet’s green eyes were to see the danger coming until it was too late.

    The signs were all there, but Xas had never been particularly skilled at noticing his surroundings. A dreamy expression clouding his blue eyes as he looked ahead at nothing that was really there, he was unaware that the dark glowers normally reserved for him by the other students were now transformed into nervous glances at Violet. He didn’t hear the furtive, brief words said out the sides of the mouths of the three boys two rows back from him. And he certainly didn’t see the bag of books that smashed into the back of his head once he and Violet had gotten halfway to her house.

    Groggy, Xas pushed himself up on his hands. Small bits of dirts were clinging to his hair, and he could taste something metallic in his mouth. As he stood up a pain shot through his skull. Wincing, he reached a hand and gingerly felt at the lump rising about six inches up from where his head met his neck. He spat out some blood and realized he must have bitten his tongue. Suddenly his eyes widened, and his head darted around, searching for Violet. She was nowhere to be seen, but even he could find the tracks in the dirt where it appeared that one person had been dragged. Or was it two...? He shook his head. It didn’t matter, they had Violet!
    He glanced up. The sun was still poised to dip below the horizon. He couldn’t have been out for more than a moment. He took a step towards where the tracks led into the forest, then faltered. Angrily, he looked down at his thin body. He would never be able to stop three country boys with physiques conditioned by hours of menial labor...not with his bare hands. Xas’s eyes narrowed, and he felt an odd burning sensation in his gut that he couldn’t recall ever feeling before. His hands clenched into fists as he streaked towards the stream.
    He skidded to a stop and flopped onto his stomach, hand scrabbling frantically under the bank until it closed around the shaft of his weapon. He hadn’t thought of it as that before. A weapon. By the time his fingers had closed around the arrows, he was quite accustomed to the idea. His hands shot out and strung the longbow and then he was off, long legs pounding up and down as he streaked back to the path and into the forest. Soon he could hear two panicked voices ahead and slowed himself to as quiet a step as he could manage.
    “Damn it! He still won’t wake up! You said this was going to be easy, you didn’t say the little witch’d fight back!”
    “Shut up! We’re fine, we go ahead an’ rough her up a little, teach the earprick to try to take our women. Besides, you know that spell as well as I do. He’ll wake up in a few hours, right as rain.”
    As the second voice finished speaking, Xas heard a small moan that he recognized immediately as Violet. Abandoning any pretense of stealth, he smashed through the undergrowth, sliding an arrow onto the string. He leaped into a small clearing, his elvish eyes easily picking out the two dark forms supporting a limp third between them. One of the first two’s hands was tangled in the third’s hair. Shiny, brown, chestnut hair.
    “What’s-”Was as far as the one holding Violet’s hair managed to get before, with a solid thunk, an arrow embedded itself in his shoulder and on into the tree behind him. Xas felt a small amount of satisfaction as he saw the hand release her hair. The boy screamed.
    “It’s the longear, and he’s gone mad!”
    Xas brought out another arrow, but he had rushed in, throwing away the one advantage he should have had. Why had he gotten this close? It was a small clearing, he could have taken five steps and been able to touch the boys he now faced. The uninjured one seemed to know that this as well, and sprinted towards Xas. Fumbling with another arrow, Xas wasn’t quick enough to stop him. A fist slammed into his stomach, nearly doubling him over as he wheezed. He felt the pain, but he couldn’t be bothered by it now, they had Violet! Grimacing, he swung the bow shaft up and to the side as hard as he could, slamming it into the boy’s face. He heard a small crunch. Staggering back, he looked up and saw the boy clutching both hands over his nose, small trickles of blood running through and underneath them. Raising his bow once more, he prepared to bring it down on the boy. With any luck he’d be unconscious soon.
    He swung, eyes narrowed to slits. An odd feeling struck him, but before he could think of what it was his arms halted abruptly in midair. A silent cry failed to leave his mouth as it would not open. He couldn’t move. A familiar voice boomed out, and the fire in his stomach suddenly turned into a block of ice.
    “Xas’Morellic Veyri! Brawling like a common thug with humans in the dark! Have I taught you nothing? Have you no pride?” Xas didn’t need to turn around to know his father was standing there, livid. “And you have...one of those.” He spat the last word. Xas’s hand began to sweat as it gripped his bow.
    Xas’s eyes darted around. They, at least, were free. The two boys in front of him had apparently been frozen as well. He could see the eyes of the boy who had hit him, widened to near bursting with fear. His fear was no doubt intensified by his father speaking in Elven. He watched his father as he strode into his line of vision. Xas stood a good six inches higher, but as his father glared up at him, he felt horribly small. A second small moan escaped Violet and his father whipped around to glare at the source of the noise. He paused, staring at her a moment. When he turned back to Xas, he looked as though he had been stricken with a sudden disease.
    “You...you’re fighting over a girl? A HUMAN girl?” He lifted a hand and ran it through his hair, appalled. “Are you really so dense? You’re older than her grandfather. And you’ll look younger than her grandchildren when she’s dead. Can I not leave you alone for more than five minutes without you embarrassing me?”
    He lifted a hand casually and the arrow withdrew from the shoulder of the boy Xas had skewered. With another, decisive swish of his fingers the pair of them vanished.
    “Now I have to heal these two before sending them scurrying back to their parents,” His father said, annoyance now present in his voice. He jerked his head and Xas felt his limbs fall smoothly to his sides. He could move once more. “I will not stand for this, Xas’Morellic, not from my blood. You will return home immediately. And you will never...” An unseen force wrenched the bow from Xas’s grasp. “Never, NEVER...” His father lifted a hand and clenched it into a fist. There was a sickening crack as the wood splintered and thumped dully to the ground. “...let me find you fooling about with one of these again.”
    Xas didn’t know how or when his father left. His gaze was riveted to the mangled shaft of wood that had once been his. It was little more than splinters in the middle, and the whole thing hung together now only by the string. Sinking to his knees, he hesitantly reached out and withdrew as soon as his finger had brushed the wood’s surface. It was destroyed. All the work, all the joy. All of the too few days spent peacefully with Violet by the river...
    Slowly, the block of ice inside him melted, and a small flame erupted once again, blazing into an inferno. His hands quivered as he gathered up the pieces and slung the remains of his one treasured possession over his shoulder, then walked over and stooped, sliding Violet’s limp form into his arms. Stepping over the body of the third boy’s unconscious body, left unnoticed in the brush, he threaded his way slowly and surely through the woods, not stopping until he had reached the path and followed it back to Violet’s cottage. Yellow light streamed out of the windows, as it always had when he had brought her home. Lifting a foot, he kicked hard at the door several times. He felt a pain in his foot, as if from a distance. Someone scurried towards the door, muttering in a feminine voice as they came.
    “Hold on, hold on, no need to break the thing down...”
    The door swung open, and Xas found himself looking at who he could only assume was Violet’s mother. She had the same green eyes, and the same brown hair, even if hers was now streaked with gray and swept up into a bun. Seeing her limp daughter in the arms of the tall elf, anger still smoldering in his eyes, did not make a good impression. Her eyes widened, and her mouth worked soundlessly. Xas bent his knees slightly, letting Violet slide into her mother’s arms. He lifted the broken bow off his shoulder and held it out as well. When he spoke, he was not sure which emotion was making it hard to keep his voice level.
    “Give this to her when she wakes,” He held the bow out once more. Violet’s mother stared at it numbly until he shook it. With a squeak she grabbed it. “And tell her that...that I am truly sorry.” His eyes drifted down to Violet’s face. He reached out a hand to smooth back the hair that had fallen across it, then froze and pulled it back. She had had enough to do with him already. He looked at her mother once more, turned on his heel, and sprinted off into the deepening night. A chill wind cut through his tunic as he ran. The fire in his stomach was dying, leaving him chilled and drained. He frowned, willing it to last. He would need all his strength if he was to follow the plan he now intended. The night soon swallowed the tall, thin form of Xas as he continued to run North. He would be free if it killed him.


  • Reviewed - XP Pending.