“Why didn’t you ask Lord Qisal to contact me before coming here? It would have saved you this hassle.” Judging from the sparkles in her ocean-green eyes, the huntress was just fishing for a pretext to talk with Lith.
Aalejah didn’t miss how the purified stone had been polished and set in silver, turning it into a necklace that was now hung on Le’Ahy’s neck.
“Because he doesn’t know I’m here.” Aalejah replied. “I came here for personal business and I’m not his servant. I don’t need the Dragon Lord’s permission to visit my people.”
Those words both stirred the pride of the elves and marked her as her own person, detaching Aalejah the elf from Aalejah the diplomatic envoy.
“I see.” Le’Ahy nodded, her expression holding disappointment and camaraderie in equal measure. “Then I’m twice as glad to be your host for today. What do you want to see first?”
“Anything is fine.” Aalejah shrugged. “After being stuck for years in human cities, even their smell sickens me. I just want to experience again how it feels being one of us.”
“Poor thing.” Le’Ahy patted Aalejah’s shoulder while a few guards came out of their hiding spots to show her trust and understanding. “First thing we’re going to get you a real meal. I’m sure that you are sick and tired of the pig slop humans call food.”
“That’s a great idea.” Aalejah lied through her teeth.
Human cuisine was actually good and as someone who had just tasted Lith’s cooking for breakfast, she was already full. The rest of the group had thrown her a weird look when she’d asked for ice cream so early in the morning, but unlike them, she couldn’t just ask Lith for the recipe.
Le’Ahy opened a Warp Steps leading straight to one of the best restaurants of Setraliie’s mid-level, the Archer Squirrel. Elven elite warriors lived on the trees, way above the farmers and merchants but below even small nobles.
Elves had no need for money because everyone was bestowed with a healthy body and a role in society so the level of an establishment would be determined solely by the skill of the chef who also was the owner of the restaurant.
Meals were free, but accessible only to those who lived on that specific level or above and only a limited number of times a month per person. An establishment was promoted or demoted based on the number of customers so a chef could achieve a noble caste’s living conditions if their restaurant was successful enough.
Aalejah ordered an aromatic beef stew with vegetables, fruit bread, and a mild sweet liquor obtained from fermenting fruits that were exclusive to the Fringe.
During her second breakfast, Aalejah limited herself to asking harmless questions about the vine city to understand how outdated her information was. Le’Ahy was happy to answer everything, even sharing with her how much the elven population had swelled since the exile.
“Are you already a Mother?” She asked after a while, making Aalejah spit a good sip of her liquor.
“No, but not for a lack of trying.” She lied with a blush. “I’m just one hundred and seventy. These things take time.”
“I know.” Le’Ahy sighed. “My mother badgers me to stop waiting for Elf Charming and put in some effort. And she’s the polite one. You should hear what the rest of the Clan says.”
“I can imagine.” Aalejah nodded.
Due to their long life and low fertility compared with the other races, children were a big issue for elves. Any woman who got pregnant would enjoy a treatment of three castes higher until the delivery and after that, she would receive the necessary to take care of the baby.
Making at least two children was a non-written law and a female elf was socially considered a failure until then. It evened out her parents and guaranteed that the elven population wouldn’t drop.
Only then would they receive the title of Mother and be exempt from military duty. At the third child, a Mother would be permanently raised of a caste and the same would happen for every further successful pregnancy.
Aalejah discretely looked around the restaurant, noticing how people stared at her clothes with even more interest than her Yggdrasill staff. They were dying to hear any crumb of information from the world that lay outside the Fringe but they didn’t want to intrude.
She then started talking about her work with Awakened Council, the War of the Griffons, and the plans to colonize Jiera. At first, those nearby just turned their chairs to listen.
Then, the bravest ones asked to join the table. After Aalejah welcomed them, it was just a matter of minutes before she and Le’Ahy were surrounded by the patrons of the Archer Squirrel and even by the passersby who overheard the conversation.
Aalejah used holograms to show images of the places she had visited, the people she had met, and the battles she had taken part in. She said great things about Lith and the others, but never mentioned his role in any event that might expose him as the Supreme Magus.
Elves lived a secluded life, but they could still get out of the Fringe from time to time and barter for common books from passing merchants. With everything that Lith had done for the Kingdom and with his close relationship with Salaark, he was bound to be famous in the Desert as well.
“So it’s true that the human Council wants our help to conquer Jiera?” A male farmer asked.
“Not the human Council. The Council.” Aalejah pointed out. “Beasts, plant folk, and undead are part of it along with the Guardians. Asking for your help was actually Fenagar’s idea.”
“Bah!” A female rancher said. “Beasts and plant folk did nothing to help us during and after the War of the Races. I mean, look around!”
She pointed at the windows from which only passing elves could be seen.
“I don’t know if it’s Mogar’s will or a conspiracy, but no magical beasts or plant folk are ever born inside a Fringe and those from the outside never came here for us. They only sought to speak with Mogar and left as soon as they were done.
“Don’t get me started with the undead. They are a living plague and should have never been recognized as one of the Awakened races in the first place!” Many nodded to her words, yet feeling deep envy for Baba Yaga’s children.
Elves just lived long lives and couldn’t Awaken on their own whereas undead were truly eternally young and, albeit flawed, their blood core had no such problem.
“Yeah, right but answer me this. How does whining about the past get us out of this damn cage?” A city guard asked. “I don’t want to spend the next 700 years locked inside a Fringe walking through Setraliie until my feet fall off.
“I hate my job and I’d do anything for a change. The World Tree can fuck themselves for all I care!” Even more people nodded in approval, the malcontent voiced as a buzzing that grew louder by the second.
Another issue of elven society was that everyone was good-looking and with age would reach a bright blue core.
