For now, this was the best they could do. Moreover, he was wondering how the collar could have rebuked his dagger more than what they were going to do next.
"Yo, we got a plan or what?" Magnius sighed, pulling away from his thoughts, for now. "Take her home, I'll see what I can come up with by tomorrow." Magnius stood, stretching his arms behind his back.
Zyom looked shocked. "Take her home? Are you mad! Do you have any idea what'll happen if I bring home a slave!?" He was practically yelling. The loud noise provoking the girl to shift in her sleep dislodging the rag from her head.
Magnius held a finger to his lips to lower the volume of his friend. He thought she'd been through enough already. Better to let her rest while she could.
"Just explain the situation," Magnius replied. "She's your responsibility anyway." He continued. Zyom looked unconvinced as he resettled the rag upon the girl's head. "I don't think it's a good idea. Besides, wouldn't it be better to have her stay here so you can work faster?"
Magnius looked down on the sleeping elf. Considering the situation and her condition ... Zyom was probably right. It might do more harm to keep moving her around, and knowing Zyom's spouse. He sighed.
"Fine. But just until I figure out how the Runes work. In the meantime look for a rehabilitation center. She'll need somewhere to live once she's free." Zyom nodded, pulling a blanket off the back of the couch and over her. "Yeah, I know the deal." Zyom replied.
"What subspecies is she anyway? I've never seen an Elf like her before." Magnius asked, kneeling down to check her pulse. It was steady. She was probably well past the worst of her injuries. Worse for wear but nothing time wouldn't heal.
"No clue. She's got horns so that puts her within the Wood Elf species." Magnius raised an eyebrow "Horns?" He repeated.
"Yeah, I felt one poking my shoulder when I was carrying her." Zyom pulled his robes away from his shoulder to reveal the bruising.
Shifting his gaze from Zyom back to the girl, Magnius then brushed a small section of her hair aside. Revealed a small black horn hidden under the matting of tangles and dirt.
It curved back along the top of her scalp before curling back up into a single point. It had been hidden under her matted dirty-brown hair. It was fractured and badly damaged and the point was dull.
Looking to the other side of her scalp he noticed the other horn was missing. Gently feeling at her scalp he found the base of where it has once been. Pulling the hair aside he could now see it had been snapped off.
The stump was worn down from years of abrasion. She'd not lost the horn recently. Zyom cringed. "Wood elves have nerves that run through their horns." Zyom remarked. "That must have been excruciating"
Magnius knew little of the different species of elves. They were rare. Even the more common species. Years of war between their nations and the Naga's has decimated both races' populations to a mere fraction of what they had once been.
Some subspecies had even fallen into extinction. Others neared it daily. Both races had only recently signed an accord to end the conflict. Peace was fragile and fleeting. But it had held for nearly five years. The Scribs had helped.
Zyom was of the Greater Elves. A reclusive race that for the most part had remained isolated and out of the conflicts. Lacking horns, his species, and any subspecies, instead had a faintly green shin tone and generally longer ears than other species.
Wood elves had horns, while Snow elves had fur around the neck and pale white skin. This girl, her skin was white. Dirty, but clearly white. Like snow. But she also had horns. He guessed she may be a half-breed. A subspecies of the two greater races.
"Huh, I'll find out in the morning to make sure what sort of medicine she can have." Magnius remarked following Zyom back to the door.
"Good night old friend."
The next morning Magnius immediately went to check on the girl. She was awake now and had moved off the couch, now kneeling on the floor.
Her hands held in her lap, eyes locked on her knees. Her face was a little swollen and she looked rather uncomfortable sitting in that position.
He was surprised to find her awake, even more so to see she'd folded the blanket and set it neatly in the center of the couch. The pillow, atop it.
As he entered she looked up at him before prostrating herself at his feet. "I assume you're to be my new master sir?" Her voice was soft and timid. Like a songbird. She spoke steady and calmly. As if she felt no pain from the bruises or cuts that ran fresh across her body.
Magnius groaned in contempt. He hated that word. Master. He barely liked Kollagoth calling him lord but no amount of bribery had changed that.
"No, I'm not." He answered, kneeling down and forcing her back into a sitting position. She didn't resist. "Do you remember anything from yesterday?" The girl shook her head. Her eyes dipped to her knees. Hands resting back in her lap.
"No Sir. The last thing I recall is being punished.." Punished? Magnius scowled. That's what she called this? A punishment.
"You mean beaten half to death." She raised her head up to him. Her eyes were a mixture of purple and yellow.
"I failed to fulfill my master's orders properly sir. I fell and broke something very valuable." She replied. Her voice, broken up with fear and confusion. Anger rose up inside Magnius. But not at her. No. His anger was for her.
Pitching a hand under her arm, forcibly, but slowly, he lifted her to her feet. "What's your name?" He asked, directing her back to the couch where he could then inspect her injuries. The gash on her head was his main concern.
"Silf Wiltleaf sir." The girl answered. Her voice had taken a more notable edge of concern, or maybe it was just fear. It was hard to tell.
"Im Magnius Gran." He said introducing himself as he ignited a magical point of light from a fingertip and held it by her forehead as he pulled a bandage away. The gash had closed for the most part. He'd need to clean it again though.
He then began using his free hand to direct her head by the chin into different angles. He was firm enough to get her to cooperate but still gentle enough to hopefully not irritate any neck or shoulder injuries she may have incurred.
"And your age?" She hesitated. Did she not know how old she was? Not unrealistic for a slave taken at an early age, he thought.
"I believe I'm in my late twenties, sir." It figured she'd only have a rough estimate. She couldn't have much need for tracking her age when her only value to others is in labor or appeal even if she'd been taken when old enough to remember.
He smothered the magical light. "And your species?" Again she paused, though for a much shorter span of time.
"Bloodkin I believe is what I was sold as sir." Silf answered.