The water lay dark and still, except for the constant ripple effect behind Emirial as he rowed. Rowing to the town seemed like a better plan than trying to dock an Elvish warship in the port. Not that he particularly cared about drawing attention to himself.

He could hear how busy the port was, even this late at night. The fleet of ships around him were getting ready to sail or unloading their cargo for the market in the morning. It was a lovely sprightful place.

A towering lighthouse was searching the surrounding area, making any passing ships aware that they were close to land. It briefly paused on him, before lights from a man shone at the port. His waving arms were quite the sight, although Emirial had no idea if he was asking him to dock or stop. He figured that he would find out soon as he continued rowing onwards.

His arms were starting to tire. Rowing for around an hour had made him somewhat exhausted. After disembarking the warship, he had ordered the crew to return home immediately, before drawing too much attention to themselves. A warship gone for a week or two could be explained, but any longer would start drawing questions to who took it and where it had gone.

Urgost would be furious when he found out what had happened. Emirial couldn’t help but feel guilty at the thought. No doubt the King would do something unexpected while the rage built within him, especially under such dire circumstances, but he would pull through. He always did.

The man with the lights guiding him was much closer now. He could make out his balding head and somewhat fat and stocky figure. Six guards in pale grey armour trailed him closely, monitoring the water carefully. Due to the intensity in which they perused the water, they must be new to the guard or at the start of their shift and on high alert; they hadn’t grown lax yet.

Emirial moored his boat at a small section of the port and quickly disembarked, arming himself and double-checking he had collected all his belongings.

“Taxes,” the bald man stated before his face dropped, and he grew pale.

Emirial towered over him and the guards, his legendary weapons clinging to his sides. He stared at them briefly, judging, weighing them all before answering. “What do you mean human, what are taxes?”

“It’s, uhmm, a charge for docking your boat,” he replied, his eyes gliding towards Emirial’s ears. The guards behind him shuffled awkwardly on their feet. New guards then. They might be stupid enough to fight him.

The wind suddenly changed direction. He could scent the bakers getting ready for the day’s work, down to the flour and cinnamon they were using and the slight burning as they began their daily chores. The man’s scent was overpowering everything else, a mixture of sweat and grime.

Emirial took a step to the side, hoping to alleviate the stench partially. He dropped his right hand down to the hilt of his blue blade, drawing their attention to it. “Where is the nearest tavern?” he asked, louder than expected.

The man took a step careful step forward, caring more for gold than his own life it seemed. The guards didn’t move to keep up with him; they merely cast cautious glances towards each other.

“Keep it, if you’d like,” Emirial said, pointing to the boat. “I won’t have further need of it.”

The man cast a glance to the small boat. It was beautifully designed, the fore of it crafted into the shape of a swan’s neck, the pale wood was sparkling even in the faint moonlight. He could feel the elf watching him with those predatory instincts of his, weighing every slight movement, calculating the outcomes, preparing to strike in a moment of hesitation.

Emirial sighed loudly, making it last several seconds. “Human. The tavern.”

The man simply stood, mouth gaping as he stared at Emirial like he finally just realized what was going on.

“Hello...” Emirial said, giving the man a slight push. The guards began to unsheathe their weapons. Emirial simply grinned in response.

“Past the crossroads, take your second left, and it's on your right-hand side.” One of the guards answered, trying to resolve the situation. At least someone with a little sense.

“Finally. Thank you.” Emirial responded before striding past them within a few swift movements. Once he was far enough out of range or would have been if it wasn’t for his enhanced senses, the guards began muttering amongst themselves. “Am I dreaming?” One of them managed to whisper. The others weren’t as nice, throwing curses and insults. Emirial smiled. Oh, he would enjoy this land very much.

Emirial kept walking with those powerful strides of his, following the directions given. The city really did have a foul stench to it; any remnants to the natural world has been all but obliterated. Very few trees were left standing in the city, cut down for timber frames to create the monstrosities of wood, brick and stone before him.

He couldn’t help but glance in the windows of most houses as he passed, trying to get a better sense to how the peasants lived. They were dull and grey, and he noticed that plants only hung from baskets or stood in vases of the more feminine looking buildings. An attempt to spruce up the otherwise decrepit interiors.

Nature managed to take over everything back home, living at one with it, respecting it. But here it was a shock that the gods hadn’t interfered to stop the plague, which was humanity. Emirial let out short tendrils of his power. He let it sweep over the ground below him ,willing the grass and weeds to force themselves out of the cracks amongst the stone road. Perhaps if the gods wouldn’t be able to help, then he could.

The humans that spotted him from their balconies quickly retreated inside or closed their shutters. Anyone on the street soon turned away or rushed down a side alleyway to get as far away as possible. He couldn’t help but feel like some sort of feral, vicious animal searching for its next meal or victim.

A waft of strong spices mixed with a fruity ale hit him, and he knew he was close. How he was going to stomach that smell would be a challenge, as even from a distance it overpowered his senses, going so far as to churn his stomach.

The building was exactly where the guard had said it would be, just off to his right. The Anchor Inn. “How original,” he said. There was a merriment of music leaking from the building and dancing could be seen through the frosted glass. At least there was happiness here, enjoyment and celebration of life.

He gently placed his hand on the cold metal handle and pulled the door outwards. It creaked in response. Emirial pulled his hood over his head and then pulled it even tighter around his face, covering most of his smooth features. The inn was full, mostly sailors and what appeared to be their female entertainment for the night.

The door gently thudded behind him as it closed, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room quickly. The few candles dotted around made it so much easier for him to see everything. The floor was soaked in ale and god knows what else, a few shady individuals passing pouches of coins to each other, hooded and strange sailors playing cards or with their women consorts.

The room was bare of design, but Emirial figured that where ale flowed, humans weren’t far behind. Maybe that’s why it was devoid of any paintings or sculptures. There were already a few humans stumbling around trying to control their movements with little success. They would damage or destroy everything of value here.

Emirial sauntered up to the counter as the barkeep noticed him and walked over to greet him, his long grey beard was almost inside the glass he was rubbing with a dirty, stained cloth.

The gruff voice sounded from over the rabble, “What will it be?”

Emirial placed his arms on the worktop, immediately regretting his decision as they stuck to it and withdrew them quickly. “I require a room for this evening.”

“That’ll be fifteen silver pieces. Breakfast included for twenty.” The man noticed one of his patron’s stumble in his direction and began pouring a glass of ale from a nearby cask and handing it over. A few silver coins bounced onto the counter, one of the few sounds that seemed to make the barkeep happy.

“How much is that in gold coins?” Emirial asked after checking his pouch.

The eyes of the man narrowed, his eyebrows touching in the middle. “What?” he replied.

“Your currency confuses me. I only have golden coins.”

The bartender paused, looking at Emirial with disbelief. “One will suffice.”

Emirial popped three onto the counter, and the man whisked them away out of sight, hoping that no one else was watching the encounter. Most were too drunk to notice when they could barely keep from walking into the wooden beams anyway.

“May I have a glass of ale too?”

“On the house,” the man replied before whirling away to pour one.

A bemused look crossed Emirial’s face. On the house, whatever that meant. Now that the man was at the other side of the bar, Emirial could see the large baton hanging from his belt and a glint of a silver dagger hanging from the underskirts of the bar. He was a plump man, but with his broad arms and thighs, he possessed some raw strength lurking beneath his stocky facade.

A tattoo of an anchor within a circle graced his right bicep. There was writing underneath it which was severely faded. Even Emirial’s eyes couldn’t make it out.

Emirial paused, his senses pulling him to full alertness as he suddenly realized how quiet the inn had become. It had been lively and full of dancing, but silence had filled it, and he wasn’t sure how long it had been like this. He turned, expecting to see all eyes on him. However, all eyes were on a young female standing on the stage at the far side.

“Your ale,” the man said in his rough voice, as the glass thudded onto the wood, a few splashes toppling over the edge.

“Thank you,” Emirial replied, leaving another coin in its place. He walked over to the corner near the stage, opposite the door he came through as the music started, slow and steady. It wasn’t like the rough music from earlier. He shared a glance with the young woman as she plucked the harp strings in front of her. She stared at him through the hood covering his face before she pulled on another string.

Emirial sat down at the empty table and set his jug down. The girl had caught his attention so much he hadn’t realized how dirty the ale was, the glass not much better. A quick wave of his hand cleansed it, and then the table. It positively gleamed. He repositioned himself on the red cushioned bench to get a better view of the harpist.

Everyone in the room was still and silent, the drunkards had paused their clatter as they watched her, entranced, bewitched even. A few strings later had them all sitting down, well behaved. Those passing by had also stopped what they had been doing and began squeezing in through the crowd at the door, or watching from outside the window to gape at the woman.

Emirial hadn’t been expecting much from this, he couldn’t help but be bemused at the goings-on and waited to hear the young auburn-haired beauty play. Well, beautiful in the way only humans could be. Her soft, plump face complete with rosy cheeks smiled as she closed her eyes and began.

The grin on Emirial’s face faltered as she opened her mouth and sang. It was in absolute perfect harmony with the harp she played with those delicate bony fingers, never hesitating but always striking her mark with precision. An artist at work. It started slowly as she sang about some long-ago war, about the death that followed, the destruction. She sped up and up as she was joined by two other females with violins, both humming in sync with the lead singer.

It was soul-wrenching. Her pure, undiluted voice echoed off the stone walls and the wooden beams, surrounding them all in the depths of her song. She moved on to sing about lost love. Emirial doubted the humans could sense the slight difference in her voice, the sheer pain as she transported him to the scene of her distress.

Crouched beside her lover’s body, the weeping. The other women and men and families all gathered around as they laid to rest the fallen warriors. For this young girl to feel so much through her music, she had to have gone through a lot. His mouth was agape. She met his gaze again for a brief second as if she could sense his thoughts.

The women around had all huddled into the arms of their men, keeping close yet not fully comprehending the pain the girl was in. A man began weeping near him. Everyone else was mute as she continued, faster and faster. Each song more impressive than the last. He wanted more. He could listen to this all day.

Back home, he could listen to the harps and the flutes for hours, but none could compare to the sheer raw emotion pouring through this music. She finished her song and picked up a much smaller harp, as two large men removed her harp and chair and she stood on the stage overlooking them all. She used them as a shield to block herself from sight as she wiped a tear from her cheek in one quick movement. A few tears already stained her lilac dress, not that anyone else would have noticed.

She started her final melody as she danced and spun on stage, it was a much more upbeat tune. Emirial listened intently but could read the meaning behind it, her final act was one of the loneliness and sadness that followed it all. The real devastation of loss taking hold after the tragedy. His own eyes betrayed him as a tear slipped down his cheek, his mind drifting back to the loss of his own wife only fifty years prior.

His wife bound to the earth. It was rare enough for time to claim an elf, but they had nigh on eight hundred years together. His smile faded as the last note of the harp reverberated through the room.

The applause that followed was deafening as the girl bowed, her accomplices following suit. Emirial couldn’t help but clap at the talented young girl. His stone heart melted ever so slightly.

She began making the rounds as the patrons started to greet her and speak softly with her, popping some coins into the hat she carried around. Not a professional then, she must be poor. With the voice of an angel that was surprising to Emirial, he merely watched as he drank more of his ale.

He was sure the girl glanced at him from the corner of his eye. She was doing well for herself, almost every man and woman in the room dropping a coin or two into her hat, a mixture of bronze and silver scattered amongst each other. Emirial half expected some of the more rabid drunks to grope her. He wasn’t even sure if he would intervene. However, they all paid her with a great deal of respect. Emirial stored the information in the crevices of his mind.

The tavern generally quietened down, around half the crowd had already dispersing as Emirial moved onto his second drink. Just water this time, although he had to cleanse that as well. Filthy humans. The bartender had refused the coin for it this time even after much protesting on Emirial’s part.

He stood up, preparing to retire to his room for the night, collecting the glass as he left.

“Hi, did you enjoy the show?” the young girl said. Seating herself at the other end of the table.

Emirial paused for a second before regaining his seat and facing the young girl. “You have a most talented voice, very impressive.”

She seemed to smile in delight, more than she had from any other compliments. “Thank you. I haven’t seen you around here before. Do you live close?” The girl attempted to shift to try and get a better peek of underneath the hood Emirial was still wearing.

“Quite far, actually. I am merely passing through.”

“Where are you going? I am heading to Saskinar. I should have enough money to hire a mercenary for the journey, the roads are no easy trek lately.”

Emirial smirked knowing why she was so keen to speak to him. “What makes the roads so dangerous?” he replied, barely moving an inch. A small bell rang from the bar.

She looked out the window to the cobbled street below, the ground had been drenched by the heavy rain still pouring from the heavens. “Wild animals seem to be roaming around the roads, which is unusual. There are also rumours of towns and villages being destroyed and abandoned.” She took a brief pause before hinting, ”Better to be careful.”

“Indeed,” Emirial responded, reluctant to give in just yet. “What is your name?”

“Evangeline, and yours?” Emirial lost a shade of white on his face, yet she barely noticed.

“Emirial,” he managed, taking a drink.

“Emirial,” she replied, still smiling. “How much would it cost me to hire you?”

“When would you wish to leave?” his eyes drifting to a few sailors observing him from the other side of the bar.

“Tomorrow morning would be great if that’s okay?”

“Good. Then I will travel with you, I needed a guide myself. Let us call it even.”

Her mouth fell open slightly, “A guide…to the great city?”

Emirial was playing with his finger around the rim of the glass, a soft song emanating from it in a fluid rhythm. “I’m not from around these parts.”

Evangeline stood up, her lilac dress peeling from the cushioned seat. “See you at dawn.” With that, she was out of sight to one of the rooms in this very inn.

It was only a few hours till dawn anyway, and as such Emirial had decided it was about time to get some well-deserved rest. The alcohol had settled in him, such rough tasting ale. Back home it was mostly wine, but here they preferred their strong drinks which he wasn’t sure if he would ever get used too.

The bar was practically empty with the final few groups finishing their last sips before travelling home for the night. He stood up, bending down to collect his weapons from the side where he lay them earlier as he heard an attempt at quiet walking towards him. A knife thudded deep into the table near his hand.

“If anything happens to her, you will pay for it,” one of the sailors from earlier said, his breath reeking of rum. Three others were nearby with swords unsheathed. Emirial bared his teeth, unsettling the man wielding the knife. Emirial then dropped his own weapon, letting it clang to the floor. Before any of them could blink the man’s face had been slammed against the table and his eye a mere hair length from the dagger.

“Don’t threaten me, human. It won’t ever end well.” The three others didn’t know what to do, looking at each other for advice.

“I…I’m sorry. It’s just. We are very protective of her.” The one on the table stammered, not daring to blink.

One of the others continued, “She lost her husband in a recent skirmish with the pirates. We promised to look out for her.”

Emirial let go of his iron grip and helped the sailor up. “I mean no harm to the girl. I need to get to the city myself. Be careful who you threaten, it might be the last time you do.” Before any of them could respond, he had collected his weapons and trudged upstairs to his room to finally rest.