"Again."
Each time Marcius picked up his sword, Lorisen attacked, always repeating the same warning every time Marcius lost. Eventually the agitated apprentice threw his training sword to the ground. "Alright, that's enough. What's the purpose of this? I'm no match for you and you know it."
Lorisen said nothing, calmly waiting with his training sword held in front of him. Marcius winced, but picked up his sword again. It was becoming obvious to him that this was retribution for last night. Marcius decided he'd keep fighting if that was the case. He did nothing wrong that deserved to be punished like this. How was he supposed to know that his question would affect the elf like it did?
But his resolve didn't matter. The disparity between the two was too much. It was obvious he didn't stand a chance, but he refused to stop, despite the pain, regardless of the humiliation. He wasn't going to give the elf the satisfaction of seeing him quit. Marcius wasn't sure where he got the willpower, but he found himself returning his weapon to the ready position after every strike. Time became a blur for him, nothing but an endless series of attacks and gradually numbing body parts.
Eventually he stumbled from a blow and his legs just couldn't deliver, buckling under him. Breathing heavily, he struggled to his feet, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Lorisen shook his head. "Be still, Marcius. You have proven your heart."
Marcius wasn't one to argue, sitting down gratefully as what little energy that was left in his body seemed to drift away. He was even more surprised when the elf offered him a drink from the water skin he carried. He accepted greedily, gulping down as much as he could. The elf said nothing and for a few minutes they passed time in silent company with the gentle rustling of leaves and sway of pollen dancing in front of them.
His eyelids felt heavy and his vision started to fade when Lorisen broke the tranquility. "I am sorry."
"For?"
"Taking out my anger on you."
Marcius sat up so he could look at the elf. "I'm guessing you heard what happened last night?"
"Aye, and it has been a long time since I have spent time with a human. Unlike the Mistress, I have ventured out in my youthful days and interacted with the other races. But I often forget that manners differ between us."
"Do you know why she got so mad at me?"
The elf grinned darkly, "Indeed, but it is not my place to tell the secrets of another. But I will ask that you not judge her harshly for her actions. She has her reasons and it is not our way to ask such direct questions. Battle-Mistress Selene is young and has not dealt much with your kind. Give her time, she'll come around, and if she wants you to know, she will tell you."
"You really care about her, don't you?"
The look in Lorisen's eye was bright. "Aye. Everyone within these walls, all of Caste Liarne, reveres her."
"Why?" Marcius discovered he was hungry to know anything more about the mysterious elven woman.
"She has done much to bring this house to prominence, gaining recognition and honor for us amongst the warrior caste. She is a good leader, a peerless warrior, but unwise to the ways of the world and even moreso the intricacies of people."
"Well, I think you could have showed your displeasure in a less painful way."
"I ask for forgiveness. Unlike her, I should have known better and held in my anger. You are a guest, and this wasn't the way I should have treated you. I let anger take control."
Marcius couldn't remain mad at the elf. Instead, he surprised both himself and the elf by clapping Lorisen on the back, mimicking the elf's previous sentiments. "All is forgiven. Don't worry about it. I just want to go the Academy and get this all behind me."
"We haven't been the best hosts, have we?"
Marcius leaned back, watching the clouds pass by overhead. "Well, I went from being a prisoner, to getting punched in the face, and then beaten up with a wooden sword. Overall it wasn't too bad for my first Selenthian experience."
There was an empty silence from the elf and Marcius looked over, fearful that maybe he once again crossed the line. Lorisen wore a weird look on his face, and then suddenly burst into laughter. "Yes, that is what I miss most," the elf said, smiling. "Humans are so true in everything they do. There is a beauty in simplicity."
"Lorisen. Why did you bring him out here?" Both Marcius and Lorisen looked up in surprise. Selene stood over them, not looking happy in the slightest.
The elf was quick to jump to his feet, turning his fist over and slapping it to his chest in the gesture of respect. "My apologies, Battle Mistress. You told me to watch him as you ran your errands. I thought it best to let him get a breath of fresh air and exercise."
The expression on Selene's face gave an impression of acute doubt, but she didn't press. "Marcius, come with me. We are going to the market so that we may get you a change of clothing and whatever else you may need."
He did his best to not let the pain show on his face as he stood up, but couldn't help wobbling anyway. Selene still said nothing beyond a single raised eyebrow, which was somehow worse.
As they started to leave, Lorisen reached out with a hand, briefly touching Marcius's arm to draw his attention. There was a moment of silent understanding between the two of them as their gazes met.
"Thank you," it said.
❧ ❧ ❧
The sun made shimmering dapples through the leafy canopy and a delicate crisp rang in the air. It would have been a beautiful day, had it not been for an oppressive veil of awkwardness that hung between them as they walked.
It was painful.
Still it didn't stop Marcius from glancing at Selene out of the corner of his eye. The elf wore the lightest of armors, a light brown leather breastplate that hugged her in a most distracting manner, and her sword swung lightly with every step.
Several times he opened his mouth to say something, anything, but each time he fumbled. What really could he say? Maybe he should take Lorisen's advice and just give the elven woman the space she so zealously defended.
As they walked, the crowds intensified, and Marcius felt their questioning stares, but Selene ignored them and he tried to follow her example. He could still hear their whispering, and his cheeks got red as he thought of what they might be saying. Marcius hurried to keep up with Selene, the tips of his ears tingling with embarrassment.
The mossy path turned into a well paved road, opening up to a large clearing that was littered with stalls filled with elves bartering excitedly with each other. There was a large stone arch, a tight leather tarp stretched over it, casting the majority of the surrounding area under shade.
Selene led him to the largest stall manned by perhaps the most colorful and animated elf Marcius had seen since his involuntary visit to Selenthian borders.
Marcius was flabbergasted at the casual use of magic in Selenthia and this elf personified it. He wore a billowy shirt, replete with ruffles that shimmered through the colors of the spectrum. Many gaudy gems adorned his fingers and ears, each one of them having a single pinprick of light that pulsed with every movement he made.
The elf was quick to spot Selene and Marcius and pushed his way through the crowds to intercept them. The elf tucked a strand of jet-black hair behind his ear as he approached, his arms going wide with greeting.
"Mistress Selene, it is ever an honor to see you at the merchant gather," he said, taking off his cap as he bowed low.
Marcius noticed that the elf had only the thinnest of accents and seemed perfectly comfortable speaking in Common. His words flowed from one to the other with none of the stilted lilt that he heard from both Lorisen and Selene. Obviously the elf had many dealings outside of Selenthia.
"Master Raloran," Selene responded, doing the traditional greeting, tilting her hand.
"Now, young girl, there is no need for that. I have known you when you were just child. There is no need for formality!" The smiling elf theatrically looked at Marcius, as if seeing him for the first time. "And this would be the human that has Selenthia in an uproar? A human among us as we prepare for war? Never thought I'd see the day the Elders would allow such a thing. Let me get a good look at you!"
Marcius found himself being held by the shoulder at arm's length by the elf, who regarded him with a now critical eye, like a shopper looking at a prospective buy. The elf's grip was with a strength that didn't match his size and it was hard for Marcius to not squirm. He looked briefly to Selene for help, but the elven woman seemed resigned and preoccupied with other things, refusing to meet his gaze.
Raloran gave a grunt, though Marcius couldn't tell if it was one of approval or disappointment, and then put an arm around him, guiding him to the massive stall nearby. It was overflowing with goods: massive racks of clothing hanging from the sides; boxes of various sizes full of unknown materials. "I am to assume you two are not here just to visit me because you were lonely, yes?"
"Aye, Master Raloran. We are here to get this one whatever basics he needs. He needs to be fitted with decent clothing."
The elf gave a dramatic sigh, throwing up his hands in defeat "Again with the formalities, child!"
"I am no child, Master Raloran."
A serious look passed over his face, "Aye, I keep forgetting." It disappeared, replaced by the ever present smile of a mask Marcius was beginning to associate with the trader. "Anyway, let's get you measured, okay?"