AVEN NAERIS
AN HOUR PASSED SLOWLY under the stars that were clouding over. Aven leaned against Lissie, their head slightly lobbed forward, exhaustion weighing heavily upon their shoulders. Lissie slowed her pace, and looked at Aven. Worry crossed her face while Aven smiled weakly, sweat starting to dribble down their face. Blood had congealed through the makeshift bandage Lissie had thrown together while they had been unconscious. Each step felt like an eternity.
Their appearance had changed after taking the potion. Aven was as dark as the ebony night with swirls of white dancing across their skin. Their hair had remained stark silver. Aven didn’t recognize themself when they stared into a small mirror Lissie had on her.
As for the young elf, Lissie was much pale in tone, looking as white as the moon. Her once sandy brown hair had changed to a deep rich brown, and her eyes were like starlight.
With the potion, they were safe from unsuspecting eyes.
“We have to stop,” she finally said, stopping in her tracks.
Aven shook their head. “No, the village is a few meters away.”
“But you’re bleeding has gotten worse!” she exasperated.
Rolling their eyes, Aven lifted their foot off the ground and stared at the once white bandage now crimson. They scowled. The wound was surely infected at this rate. Shaking their head again, Aven peered Lissie in the eyes.
“The tavern is near the outer edge of the village. I’m sure the tavern keeper will arrange a spot for us immediately.”
Lissie huffed, yet gripped Aven’s arm tighter. “Okay, but only if you’re sure that we’ll have lodgings.”
“How many doses do we have left of the potion?” Aven asked.
“Two each. By then, you should be able to walk again without putting too much strain on the wound.”
Aven rolled their eyes.
They began walking away, slowly inching toward the village.
Blackpool was a small, quaint little place with very little upkeep. The houses on the outer edges, where the farms were kept, were made of timber from Farlet Woods. Livestock had been put away for the night, but remnants of their fecal matter could be spotted near the fences lining the road. The rough dirt road smoothed out the closer they got to the village, where warm torchlight met them.
A tall stone building with a lime wash going up to the second, third, and fourth stories stood out among the rustic homes and stores. A sign decorated with a snail hung above the door. Lissie stopped walking as soon as the door opened and a half-drunk man with a beer gut stumbled out, cheeks red from the alcohol. The drunk man stumbled past them, and Lissie eased their way to the door, careful to keep Aven from tripping over the small stone step.
The door was wooden, but not cheaply made. Fashionable metal clasps were on the hinges. A small window to the right of the door could see inside the building, showing off a few tables with patrons drinking.
“I think we found the tavern,” Lissie said.
Aven mumbled a response, and Lissie ignored it, pushing the door open.
Inside the tavern, it was warm and homely. tables stretched out across the room while the bar was positioned to the left of the room. A set of stairs was in the back, leading to the upper floors.
A burly woman with silky ash-colored skin walked up to them. She was short in stature, barely reaching the top of Aven’s hip. Her ginger hair was pulled back into a tight bun with strands of her hair falling around her plump cheeks.
“Hi there. I’m Fira Gerubb, owner of the Aromatic Snail Inn. What can I do for ya?” she said in a southern drawl.
Lissie cleared her throat. “A single bedroom. My companion needs a place to rest. Is there a village doctor?”
Fira shook her head. “Unfortunately, there is not one.”
A curse left Lissie’s lips. She turned to Aven, barely keeping any weight on their injured shoulder.
“What happened to ya, son?” Fira asked.
Aven shrugged. “We were practicing shooting our arrows and one bounced backward off a sheet of metal, landing in my shoulder.”
A gasp left Fira’s lips. “Oh, my! We do have a group of druids further south who perform healing rituals. But a call upon them can take days. Are ya willing to make the call?” Fira asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Don’t,” Aven said. “We’ll just take the room.”
Fira gave a nod. “That’ll be two silvers.”
Lissie slipped her hand into her bag and produced the coin, setting it in Fira’s hand. With another nod, Fira turned toward the tables.
“Dontar, get yar ass up and help this gentleman upstairs. He’s injured.”
A muscular man in the back of the room took a small swig off his beer mug. “And what’s it to me? I’m a customer.”
Fira put her hands on her hips, a glare dancing in her eyes. “Yar drinks will be half-off for the next hour if ya help this young man out.”
The man grumbled, shifting in his seat, and taking another swig before standing up and marching toward them. Under the torchlight near the door, Aven saw that Dontar was over six feet tall, a peppered grizzly beard clung to his jaw. He glared at Fira, then looked at Aven.
“So, you’re the boy? Are you an elf? Where’s your tracking coin?”
Aven’s heart sunk. They had hoped to not be spotted, but like usual, they were an easy target. Their hand went to their trousers, the coin weighing heavy in their pocket.
Lissie scowled and grabbed Aven’s hand. “Whether or not they are an elf, they are injured and need a place to rest. We can discuss this once they are in bed.”
Dontar crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Unlike you, miss, I follow the law as decreed by King Dario.”
“A decree shouldn’t punish those who are innocent.”
“Elves work with the phoenixes who killed Queen Kendra. They are lucky to be allowed in with a tracking coin.”
Aven tugged their hand free. “It’s okay. I’m used to the coin.”
They reached into their pocket and pulled out a small bronze coin. Dontar snatched the coin from Aven and inspected it. Aven flinched at the sudden interaction, pulling their hand back and looking at the floor.
Fira frowned, a glint of sadness in her eyes. She too had a coin.
Dontar handed the coin back with a slight nod. “It’s legitimate. I’ll be checking to make sure you have it with you every day you are here.”
“Ya can find your room on the second floor; room 2C is written on a plaque,” Fira explained. She handed Lissie a copper key with a tag stating the room number.
Dontar stepped closer to Aven, gesturing for Lissie to let go. He scooped his left arm under Aven’s legs and picked him up with his right arm securing Aven’s back. Aven tensed at the sensation. They had never been held in such a manner.
A few hoots and hollers came from the tables, jests at teasing Dontar, who shot them all a look. Aven lowered their head, ashamed they had to be carried.
The stairs leading up to the second floor were narrow, but not cumbersome. The floor was plain with a few stools containing a vase of blue or pink flowers. Dontar continued along passed the first two doors and stopped in front of the third. He stepped aside and waited for Lissie to unlock it.
The door swung open with a creak. Dontar pushed passed her and carried Aven over to a small bed barely able to hold them. He set Aven down, and patted his hands against his pants.
“I’ll be back in the morn’ to check on you.”
Lissie’s scowl grew deeper as he walked out of the room and shut the door with a slam.
“What a rude degenerate that man is!” Lissie growled, walking toward the nightstand near the bed. Moonlight streamed into the room, casting just enough light to see a candle perched on top. She flicked her fingers over the candle and whispered a word in her native tongue, a candle flame flaring to life.
Aven scooted themself up against the bed frame and rested their hands on their apron.
“He was doing his job,” Aven said.
“And what would that be? A racist jerk?”
Holding the tracking coin up, Aven looked over the letters engraved on it. It had been five years since the coins were first issued, and Aven hated being told that they were a mistake. Yet, they had nowhere to go. Mama and Father were dead.
Lissie turned to face Aven and took the coin from their hand. She held the bronze coin up in the air. She frowned at the rough letters carved into it. “This is what your king demands people carry on them? Even you, a citizen born in the kingdom?”
Aven shrugged. They had grown used to it. For as long as they could remember, they had to keep the coin on them, whether in a pocket or in a small pouch around their neck.
“No one really questions it anymore. Not after Queen Kendra was slain by the gold phoenix king,” Aven explained.
“That does not make it right!” Lissie snapped, throwing the coin across the room.
Aven sat up, eyes widening with terror. Without the coin, Aven would face a worse punishment than banishment. By the law, King Dario would have them executed for treason.
“Get the coin!” Aven said.
“Or what?” Lissie’s tone matched her stance. Her arms were in crossed in front of her.
Aven stared at the floor, where the coin had rolled when it landed, unable to see it against the candle light.
“Dontar could arrest me if I don’t have that coin.”
Lissie laughed and sat down on the mattress. “I’m not worried about some watch guard. You need to heal, which I guess I can do through the night. It’ll be long and tedious, but you’ll be healed by tomorrow morning.”
“How?” Aven asked.
“I have magick, remember?” she responded with a smirk.
