"HOW MUCH LONGER," Tylin asked with wonderment. He couldn't handle being trapped any longer in his cell. Over the course of Vilashen's battle, the walls aged with him. He'd grown familiar with the rats of the corner and the mold hanging from the ceiling. Especially the rats. "Do you think anyone will let us out?"
The brown rat he'd been talking to didn't answer him. He wasn't expecting him to, but when he'd been locked away and forgotten for twenty years, he tended to get lonely, and rats were the only thing close enough to socializing. Of course, there were the guards that'd visit him for no more than a few minutes that'd hand him his rations. They'd been crumbles close to nothing at all, but Tylin reasoned food was food and that he should be grateful for it.
The guards never spoke to him. It was like their lips had been stitched together and their puppeteer was toying with their invisible strings once every blue moon. Even a dose of fear could be spotted in their eyes when they visited, but Tylin knew not why.
He did not know why he'd been caged in the first place, for he'd done nothing wrong. He had begged them to let him out and tried to reason with their seemingly lost humanity. His pleas didn't do much for him, except get a reaction out of one guard that had spat in his face, calling him a "rotten pointy eared demon". He'd gathered that the men hated his kind, elves, and that his only crime had been being born into a world of hateful humans.
He found the situation ironic since he'd been adopted and raised by human parents, unbeknown of his heritage.
Tylin had studied his lineage ferociously once he'd found out the truth. His parents had told him before his twelfth birthday when curiosity had gotten the best of him. He wasn't angry or despaired, but rather curious as to what his kind was like. And seeing as his ears were pointed in comparison to the soft shape of human ears, he should've realized it sooner, but he was naïve then. He had not known of any elves in Vilashen or in the entire five realms. No one had. He'd only heard that there had been rumored sightings afar in the mountainous planes of Laesry. Whether it was a myth or not, he knew elves existed and wanted to believe with all his heart that they were hiding in plain sight or in faraway kingdoms because his refusal to acknowledge he was the only elf in the world blind sighted him to any known facts.
Hope and belief were dangerous things.
However, to Tylin, it didn't make sense that elves had been hiding since Vilashen was named home to what humans referred to as unnaturals. It wasn't an offensive name then, but now, humans used the word with spite on their tongues.
The king was an unnatural; a disguised dragon in a human body. Some humans accepted him as a ruler, while others sought to tear him down. Tylin, for one, supported the king before he had found out he was of elvish blood. He couldn't understand why anyone would want to overthrow the king, seeing as he presented himself with fairness and benevolence to all of Vilashen, but he guessed that some humans feared the king and his powers; they feared that he'd eventually take control over the five realms.
Tylin wasn't entirely convinced. The only command the king announced to the world at the beginning of his rule was to put an end to dragon slayings, and he had promised to welcome all to his home, regardless of the species. It would have seemed that he'd kept true to his word, only no elves came, or at least none that would be obvious to the public eye. It was a curious mystery.
Bewildered and entranced by the unnaturals, Tylin had gone to the sacred scrolls of Cesil and had barely found anything. All of what remained from elvish heritage were characteristic descriptions of spun bold hair, piercing green eyes, and pointy ears, along with a passed down rusty bow he'd spotted gathering dust in an enclosed viewing area of the library. Tylin had raked the pieces together and placed belief in the fact that elves must've been hunters of some sort.
This enlightenment had all occurred before the battle of Vilashen began, where odd looks were given to non-human appearances and nothing more. Tylin couldn't say the same for today's age. He didn't know if the same appearances were frowned upon or if unnaturals still existed within the world, other than himself.
"One day," Tylin told the rat. "We'll be free of this place." The rat gave what Tylin interpreted as a nod before it scurried away, squeezing through the metal bars that caged the two there. Tylin wished he was a rat so he could do the same.
A rush of cold grabbed at the hairs of Tylin's arms and legs. Shivering, he threw himself into a fetal position, trying to find the warmth radiating from the stone ground. He was thankful he had been wearing a warm attire the day he'd been captured on the rooftop of his home, or what was left of it. His family was gone, his home was destroyed, and even the city itself had been abandoned. It'd been abandoned for those twenty years of lingering cold misery.
The cold was another mystery. Tylin didn't know how anyone remaining in Vilashen was alive. In fact, he didn't know how he was still living and breathing. Anyone in this cold should've been dead by the end of the week. It must've been his elvish blood keeping him alive so many years, and the guards must've been traveling back and forth once every three to four days from where he knew not.
Tylin traced the floors for some time until a loud crash impacted the ground. Tylin's eyes gaped open. Lying before him was a body faced into the ground. Jumping back, he almost cracked his head against the cement walls. Dark strands of hair touched the floor and two legs were sprawled out. Tylin noticed the staff clutched in the person's shaking hands. The person groaned as they made their way up. Their attire was teared in pieces while stains of crimson cracked at their skin.
The dark-haired person was finally able to stand, back facing Tylin. They were gasping for air as they gripped the metal bars for support.
The person must've heard Tylin's inaudible gasp because they had already whipped around like a bolt of lightning and had their staff aimed for in between Tylin's gauging eyes.
It was a male. His features were hard; a square, chiseled jaw and bold eyebrows. The man's hardened face softened, weary eyes revealing themselves, as he glanced over Tylin. "It's just you," he exclaimed almost relieved. The man seemed to have recognized Tylin, but Tylin did not recognize him. "Time to go," the man said, outstretching his hand for Tylin to take.
Tylin remained where he was. "Who are you?"
The man attempted to reel back an eyeroll. "Ezeak," he answered. "Do you wish to eat with rats for any longer or take a leap of faith with a stranger? The longer we chat, the less of a chance we have of leaving this place."
Tylin had so many unanswered questions. He wanted to know what type of unnatural Ezeak must've been. He practically teleported himself inside of the cell, as he dropped from the ceiling. It was like he'd already been falling.
"I'll come with you so long as you take my friend along with you," Tylin replied.
Ezeak looked confused. "Your friend? You've been isolated for twenty years. What friend could you have possibly made?"
Tylin's cheeks reddened, realizing it might've sounded silly to someone who hadn't been isolated from society.
Ezeak looked around and saw the rat in the cell across from him. "I do hope you don't mean the rat?" He was hesitant to ask, but his expression remained the same.
Sheepishly, Tylin replied. "Blems is my only friend."
Ezeak almost laughed, and Tylin was not pleased. Blems had kept him company over the years, staying by his side for the long dark ages of Vilashen, as he offered the leftovers of his leftover food in return. It was a small price to pay.
"You named it?" Ezeak chuckled, examining the chubby rat. "You must be joking. Did the twenty years treat you poorly. Has your rational mind fled and been replaced with insanity? I pity you, elf, but I am not bringing a rat with me. I don't care if he's your friend. There are plenty of other rats you can dine with outside of the castle," Ezeak stated, looking down at Tylin.
Tylin wished it were a joke, but he'd grown feelings for the little creature. He wanted to leave, but he also wanted Blems too. "Either he's coming with us," Tylin drawled out heavily. "Or you can leave by yourself." Ezeak looked stunned by his response. "You're familiar with me even though I not you and breaking me out of this cell isn't out of selflessness," Tylin continued. "You need me for something rather important, I gather."
Ezeak was opening his mouth but was cut off short. "Don't deny it," Tylin said. "Did I mention I have a talent for recognizing the truth when I see it. It's written across your face. If I were you, I'd consider my options wisely." After Tylin found out he'd been lied to for twelve years, he made sure to study up on everything he could about inferring the truth; expressions and body language were the milestones. It worked well for him until the guards had taken him in and locked him away from the outside world.
"You bloody elves have a talent for being unbelievably stubborn." Without another word of the negotiation Tylin had hoped for, Ezeak snatched him by the forearm, hauling him up into his chest. Tylin bumped into Ezeak, disoriented and unwilling before Ezeak stomped his staff twice upon the gravel.
Within the second blow of the staff, a swirling sea of blue and gold surrounded the two. It felt like they were falling, or at least, Tylin felt it. His heart had dropped briefly, and his feet ceased to touch solid until the moment was over.
Time stood still once more. Seconds ago, Tylin had been entrapped within a strikingly cold cage, but the setting and climate he'd familiarized himself with had disappeared in an instant. Now, he could see, over Ezeak's shoulder, that he was standing atop a cliff gazing over a waterfall, the sun beaming down on him.
Once he'd soaked in the sun and took in his surroundings, Tylin pushed himself out of Ezeak's hold and stepped away three paces. "You left Blems behind," he stuttered, holding onto his head as a pounding headache took hold of him. "We must go back."
Ezeak narrowed his eyes. "I just rescued you. You want me to go back for a rat?"
Hesitantly, Tylin nodded. He wasn't sure of what he wanted anymore. He was finally out of his cell and he was socializing with another living, communicating being.
"That's not happening," Ezeak stated, plummeting to the ground. His head rested on the soft green grass and closed his eyes, attempting to drone out the tiresome elf. His efforts were futile and wasted.
Tylin began once more. "Blems will die if he doesn't get his rations-"
"Enough!" Ezeak begged, peeling his eyes open with frustration. "I'm not getting your damn rat. End of story."
Tylin went silent. Ezeak was extremely agitated, and he thought it best not to create further conflict with the man who'd just saved him. Scrunching up his forehead and licking at his dry lips, he wondered of the man's astonishing capabilities. "How did you get in my cell?" he questioned.
Ezeak was still resting upon the grass before he let out an annoyed sigh. "Isn't it obvious?" he said, holding up his staff for Tylin to view. When Tylin did not answer, Ezeak replied, "I'm a mage."
Tylin nodded. It made sense, but he hadn't seen a mage in a long time. The last one he'd seen was on his journey to Cesil for a sacred scroll on elves. The mage was revealed as a woman, helping an older couple on their farm. She was growing their plants using an unseen, mystical force. That mage didn't wield a staff like Ezeak did. Maybe there were more than one kind of mage?
"You were falling," Tylin stated, remembering their first and abrupt encounter.
Ezeak blinked several times but did not reply. Instead, he shook his head and got up on his feet. He pointed towards the waterfall that seemed to have no end in the abyss of fog encircling the water. "That's where we're heading."
Tylin spun to observe the waterfall's distance, and he was relieved he wouldn't have to walk too far, for he'd been trapped in a cage with few yards of walking distance and was unready for a long journey, but he did wonder why they were traveling to a waterfall of all places. He didn't want to ask, since he'd already bothered Ezeak with enough questions.
Before Tylin realized it, Ezeak had already been walking the hilled path that formed a loop from the cliff to the waterfall.
Glancing behind him, at the dark forest, Tylin wondered how far they were from the castle. If they weren't too far, it was possible he could get Blems back; it was also possible the guards would bring him back.
Or kill him.