My voice, laden with concern, cracked as I used it. "I was beginning to believe you wouldn't come back."
I'd been so worried about him.
Simon looked around, and then his gaze settled on me again. Where it felt it belonged.
"You waited," he muttered.
"For a long time," I responded, unable to swallow the loneliness that clung to my words. "What happened? You look different and…" my nose twitched at the striking smell stuck to his skin and clothing, "you smell different."
Simon stiffened. "What do I smell like?"
"Like metal and gunpowder." Taegen had taught me these distinct scents early to protect me.
Stress chased Simon's exhale. His contemplation was subtle as he stared into my eyes, unsure if he should elucidate. Eventually, he conceded with a nod. And he shuffled to my side against the stone, looking ahead.
The rain started. Gentle like soft pats on grass. Then it grew to a powerful shower that offered Simon's following confessions secrecy.
"Do you have an idea about what the human world is like, Ruith?"
I tore my attention from the grating patter in my ears. "My guardian taught me about tall buildings in cities and advanced technology. Different currencies and languages are scattered across the diverse population."
"Yeah, all that's true," Simon agreed, "but there is more to it than that. Two-thirds of the world is starving. It wasn't always like this, though. Over two hundred years ago, there was a domain war between humans and elves, in which the ownership of the Earth's forests was decided. The humans lost, and what we lost was more than land, but the resources to take care of everyone."
My chest tightened strangely. As I remembered my father explaining it, elves had existed long before humans, stumbling across this world when humans were still a primitive population. It wasn't until millennials after that Ophinem's gates began opening in more forests across the Earth.
It was a phenomenon even the most intellectual elves could not fathom. Due to this and the human attacks, elves had been commanded by all authorities to seize the forests that harbored the gates to our home and prevent intruders. For the preservation of elves and the world of Ophinem, I had always believed it necessary to block off the Earth's forests. Never had I considered how humans would be affected by it. Frankly, I'd never cared. Not until now when Simon explained it to me.
"What about farming," I asked him. "Humans do that, too. Your kind has designated animals and crops for farms. Why is the world still hungry?"
There was neither light nor sheen to Simon's sunken gaze as he stared ahead. "The population is still growing, you know, despite our circumstances. And without the necessary deforestation, the world for us at the bottom is pretty cramped. So, there isn't enough space or good land for everyone to have a farm in their backyard. And those with them charge outrageous prices for their produce. I can't blame them. I mean, everyone is just trying to get by. But to survive, everyone is left with bare pockets or having to risk hunting."
"Hunting…where?"
Simon rolled his head, giving me a tired look. "In the forests. Fruit is too expensive, and meat is a rarity, so people risk their lives scouring these forbidden forests for food to keep their families alive. Others join organizations that care for their families in exchange for work. But even those can be unreliable…and unethical."
His words were knowing as if telling me about these horrors from experience.
I considered him, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to offer. I had never seen the real human world, and despite my teachings, I'd always treasured a naïve hope that it'd be as beautiful as these forests I roamed.
"What about the remaining third of the world?" I asked as the thought occurred to me.
Simon huffed, and it was irritated, but not with me. "The wealthy live in cities while we at the bottom work to provide for them. The funny thing is, there'd be enough resources for everyone if the wealthy cared about anyone but themselves." He paused, swallowing audibly. "No one would have to starve. No one would have to die."
I absorbed Simon's anguish with every part of me—resonated with it as if it were my own. "And your family…are you able to care for them?"
Simon bristled. "I have no choice but to. My mom stays home to take care of my sisters, and my dad is an amputee from war. He suffers from strokes, so he's in and out of the hospital, unable to work."
The confession must have been accidental because Simon mildly panicked and withdrew from me. He shook his head and strained a laugh. "Uh, but I don't resent my responsibilities or anything. I'm happy to take care of them. They're all I have in this world…I'd do anything for them."
"Simon—"
"Ruith," he interrupted, looking at me now. An ingenuine smile lifted his lips. "We're too young to be worrying about these things. Everything will work out in the end. I know it will."
I wanted to help him. My father's castle had an abundance of food. With it, I could provide for Simon's family for hundreds of lifetimes. Would Simon allow it? I had noticed how he viewed the responsibility of caring for his family. He must've thought receiving anything he didn't earn meant he was an inadequate provider. He was honorable; however…
Igniting a bit of my magic to see, I removed a gold cuff from my wrist and offered it.
Simon caught my hand between callused fingers, squeezing his eyes shut to ignore the glimmer. "Please. Don't."
I ignored him and secured the bracelet around his wrist, although it was thicker than mine.
"I didn't tell you this so you could pity me, Ruith," he wearily complained.
Pulling my hands away, I looked forward thoughtfully. "This is neither pity nor charity. There is an abundance of jewels and gold in my world. Although beautiful, there is little value in it to elves. As a late birthday gift, I want you to have that bracelet." I smiled at Simon. "Give it the value it deserves."
For a while, there was amazement in Simon's eyes as he stared at me. I maintained his gaze and felt the fibers of my being tingle gratefully. I wanted his acknowledgment, yearned for his company, and desired to have his eyes on me.
"Thank you," he said after a while.
I could tell he meant it.
We dismissed a handful of minutes watching the rain. The silence would not have bothered me if the rain didn't portray the grating sound of rocks thrown on glass. However, I would not complain. I was happy enough that Simon was here with me now.
Riches, abundant food, and a spacious home: I hadn't known to be grateful for it until now, but I had always known the value of the people I'd gotten close to. And with Simon beside me, I wanted nothing more than to share my world with him.
Simon broke the silence with an undesirable message. "It's past midnight now."
I took a reluctant look around. It certainly was. I set my basket of fruit before him. "For you to bring home to your family."
Simon's fingers grazed the intricately woven handle. He flickered his eyes to mine a bit shyly. "Ruith…do you think we could stay here tonight?"
I blinked at him. "You wish to sleep out here?"
"We can find somewhere your people won't look for us. It can work, right?" Hope and desperation fell off his words and dripped onto me until I was soaked with the desire to submit to his request.
My heart tugged. I wanted to offer Simon a kind of peace during the time we spent together before he'd have to return to the famished human world of responsibility.
"We won't have to worry about elves. They don't usually come out during the rain."
"Really?" Simon exuded disbelief. "Why not?"
"It interferes with our senses. It's unpleasant to be caught in it," I gave.
Simon considered the rain, then me. "Then why are you—"
"I'm alright, Simon," I attempted to assure him. And I bit my lip on a smile. "I want to be out here with you. For tonight…we can have this forest to ourselves."
After that, Simon pulled a sweater from his bag. He covered himself and opened one end with a smile illuminated by the dim glow of my magic. "We can stay warm if we share."
I slid closer until our arms touched, and my breath caught. I was warm beneath the garment, but snuggling Simon's side was the warmest. It felt natural for me to drop my head onto his shoulder. And I did. "In the morning, I'll teach you how to fish."
Simon muttered tiredly, "You aren't upset with me?"
I took a moment. "Will you tell me why you were away so long?"
"I'm sorry, but I can't."
I inched nearer. "I'm just happy you're here with me now. I missed having a friend."
Simon's heart rate sped, the pulse in his shoulder throbbing beneath my ear, and he relaxed. Carefully, he lowered his head onto mine. "I missed you too, Ruith."
A thousand bees carried the affection growing in my chest and distributed it to every grieving part of me. The rain didn't bother me anymore; neither did the thought of returning home. Not when I'd see Simon another day.