The next day, he returned with a darker, taller man. This one wore the same robes as the last, but bore tattoos, darker skin and elven ears. She considered his height unusually tall, but knew cities were different and she wasn’t used to seeing people so close. Even so, that would make the elder man much shorter. Did that mean she was short? She was taller than most things in the forest, but she hadn’t really had a chance to compare herself to many other humans or elves.
“Are you feeling well?” he asked. She froze, she wasn’t expecting to understand him. “The clerics worked their spells, so you should be fine, though they said it would take some time.”
After some hesitation, she nodded. “I am... better. It hurts, but not as much as the day before.”
He bared his teeth, an attempt at a smile that didn’t look quite right on him and Telosai hadn’t understood, then said something to the elder man who had spoken to her yesterday. The elder nodded and spoke as well. She looked on in confusion. The elf claimed that they had healed her, and she was feeling much better today, but how? And why? The most she knew of healing was wrapping leaves to prevent bleeding, and hoping things didn’t get worse.
The tall elf attempted a smile yet again and tried to look peaceful. “Well then, welcome to the home of St. Cuthbert. I would guess you’re hungry? We have soups in our kitchens. Are you well enough to eat at a table, or should we bring over a bowl?” Had the man been someone else, the offer would have sounded pleasing and kind, but this man was clearly not used to being the one to offer such things.
She wanted to refuse, strangers were not often kind, no matter what they said. But they had healed her, and her stomach was protesting the idea of refusing, so she nodded. She wasn’t exactly sure what “soup” was, but it was food, and travelers often ate soup in when camping near by, so she assumed it had to be good enough. The tattooed elf nodded, resumed his strict glare, and left the room. Telosai was left staring at the elder again.
The man spoke again, but the speech did not seem to be directed at her. His head was lowered, his hands were raised, and his eyes were closed. She listened. The strange language seemed nice enough, very disjointed and chopped up, but it was alright, as languages went.
By the time the speech ended, the elf had returned with a wooden bowl filled with some liquid. Telosai took it carefully and lifted it to her lips, drinking down the strange liquid. The bowl was empty fairly quickly, and she looked up hoping for more. She was met with the sight of the elf, looking rather confused and holding up what she believed was a strange stick (or a spoon, had she known better).
“Is there more?” she asked.
“Yes, but it is not for you. We believe seconds spoil, you do not need any more. The leftovers go to the orphans,” was the tattooed elf’s response.
“oar-feen...” she repeated, testing the strange word on her tongue. She assumed it was a name of some sort. Her curiosity driving her, Telosai decided she would have to memorize the name and listen for it later. She nodded at her decision, though the taller elf took it as an acceptance of the situation.
Had Father Cross known elven, he would have taken pity on the girl and let her have as much as she wished. It had, after all, been over a day since she had arrived. Aenor was simply stubborn and did not think it fair that she would have seconds while he couldn’t even back when he wasn’t ensured to become monk. To be honest, he was simply trying to enforce the rules.
The human decided now would be a time to question the child, he began speaking, pausing at certain points to let the other one translate.
“Who are you, child? And what were you doing on the cliff?” Aenor left out the ‘child’ bit, he felt no reason to be soft on anyone. They had done enough, in his opinion, that the child should be grateful and need no coddling.
“You mean to ask my name?” the tall elf nodded, “ah, I’m called... Telosai, last I remember, I think.”
“Ah, yes, I don’t... speak often...”
Aenor translated, and Father Cross asked another question. Hearing her name, this was the point when Telosai realized that the tall elf was explaining what she said to the human. She wondered if humans simply didn’t know her language and how the tall elf could know the human language.
“And what happened on the cliff to make you fall? Forest elves usually aren’t so close to the edge of that area. Of what family are you?”
Telosai shrugged. She wasn’t sure how to explain exactly what had happened, other than that she had been attacked. Perhaps the human then simply did not understand what she had said either? “I don’t really remember. I haven’t seen my family in a while.” Was she a ‘forest elf’? She’d never known the term itself, but she was an elf, and she did live in the forest, so she supposed the term fit well enough.
After the translation, the human moved to rest a hand on her forehead, she jerked back defensively, unsure of his motives. He waited patiently as the tattooed one explained. “He isn’t going to hurt you. He simply wants to see if you’ve gotten a concussion.”
“What’s a con-... uhm...”
“A concussion. It could explain your memory loss. The clerics didn’t see any wound on your head, so we had assumed you would be well, but if you did fall an injure your head it could cause severe problems.”
She nodded. “Well I remember but... humans are hard to understand. I was pushed. But I’m sure it was some accident!”
