Page 30 of A Tale of Mirth & Magic
B ARRA
W e made good time on the main road. As the light faded around us, treetops darkening overhead, I recounted my run-in with Stan and Ronald to Elikki. She gasped and giggled through the story, and I found myself laughing along.
This light bubble of happiness that had filled my chest since we opened up to each other beside the lake was still there, making me almost giddy.
When I got to the part about being stabbed in the arm, she insisted on seeing the wound herself and dressing it “properly” from her perch atop Pebble.
Before I knew it, she’d grabbed some clean cloth from her pack and she was pulling my shirt away from the sticky wound, heart-shaped face tight with concentration.
I protested a little at first, tried to brush her off. But truthfully, it felt wonderful, if a bit strange, to have someone tend to me like this. I was so used to being the sole caretaker in my relationships. The way Elikki insisted that I let her care for me in return—it did something to me.
When she finished her work, tying it off with a neat knot, she made me promise to clean the wound fully and bandage it again once we found a room in town. I smiled at her use of the singular “room.” She smirked back, expanding the bubble in my chest even larger.
Still, part of me kept expecting someone to leap out and attack her again. Both of us stayed alert for more bounty hunters—peering around into the forest’s shadows and halting randomly to listen for footfalls—but all was normal.
As we walked, my thoughts kept coming back to what Elikki had shared by the lake.
It was hard to make sense of the type of neglect and emotional abandonment she’d described in her past. She’d been ignored by the very people who were meant to love her the most—it made me sick to my stomach.
I began to see that Elikki had been hurt more deeply, more viscerally, than I had ever experienced.
She’d grown up feeling unwanted by her own parents, her communities. Unloved.
I didn’t realize until this moment how much more scarred than me she probably felt, all these years later.
She’d just buried the hurt deeper. Covered it with layers of charm, wit, and charisma.
Protected herself in the ways she could.
Hardened her heart to everyone, so that no one could hurt her like that again.
As these realizations struck me in the chest like blows, I felt a surge of understanding and love for this elf.
That she’d been through so much and still started to open up, let me see her —that was nothing short of miraculous.
Not only was she strong, charming, and mind-shatteringly gorgeous, but Elikki Sunstorm was the bravest person I’d ever met.
We reached Old Orchard just as the last bit of daylight slipped away.
Restaurants and taverns spilled light into the street.
Folks called to one another, shouting and laughing merrily, and everyone scrambled out of Pebble’s path as they caught sight of her.
The golden magefire lamps, which illuminated larger towns and cities across the Willowisp Woods at night, shone brightly along the sides of every road here, a welcoming entrance.
Like all folk, mages had to live where they could find work, and most opportunities were in places like this.
Not small villages like Nepu, so we usually just made do with candles at home.
But goddess, if this wasn’t a beautiful sight.
Cheerful dancing flames shone about us, reaching tendrils up to the darkening sky from their lampposts and tinting El’s auburn hair golden.
So beautiful , I thought, reaching over to twirl a loose strand around my finger, just for the sake of it. She smiled sleepily over at me, and I pressed a kiss to her hand.
We stayed on the main cobblestone road as it curved to the right and up a gentle hill.
It was a little quieter up here, fewer folks carousing and more weary workers heading home for warmth, supper, and a good night’s rest. I’d visited this town several times before for work, and I hoped my preferred inn had space for us tonight.
Following the bend of the high street, we finally came to my destination.
The Oak my future, or lack thereof, with Elikki; the stress and concern that my absence might be causing my mas and sisters.
It was hard to ignore the internal cacophony.
But then I looked over at Elikki, curled up like a cat in our large bed. From what she’s said, she’s been through far worse than this. She barely seemed shaken.
We could handle it all together. Tomorrow, I resolved, I’ll write to my family and explain. Reassure them that I’m all right. And Elikki and I would take things one day at a time.
For now, though, I needed to get some rest. I untied the dark red ribbon from my hair and placed it carefully atop the bedside table.
After pulling on my loose sleep pants, I slid into bed beside Elikki and threw a thick blanket over us.
She wriggled a little again in her sleep and shifted closer.
Tucking one arm gently around her soft body, I fell asleep with a smile on my face.