Hey, this update only took 18 days! I apologize for that, my free time recently has been consumed by partying and anime. Keep the suggestions going, you guys have actually shaped the story a lot more than it might appear at first.
Chapter 3
Corvander stood and watched as the elves walked away from him, and decided after a moment that he might as well try to learn something about elven society while he was free. He walked towards the center of the city for a few minutes before he realized there was really no particularly interesting place, deciding to just stay in one place and see if anything interesting came to him.
He leaned against a tree and noticed a tuft of hair fall over his eyes. He held it between two fingers and realized that he didn’t even remember what he looked like. He brushed his hands through his hair and felt that it was straight and about five inches long. The piece in his face was a light brown. He would have to find somewhere to look at himself soon.
Corvander blinked. He heard something. Listening closer, he could tell there was definitely a disturbance in the city somewhere. The source of the noise didn’t seem too far away. He could hear raised voices, making him think the disturbance was an argument – something that should be common, but for some reason felt completely out of place in the elven city. The whole nature of the city seemed affected by it: elves in the streets glanced nervously at the noise, but were definitely disturbed by it. This just strengthened Corvander’s curiosity.
He eventually came close enough to hear more clearly, and hurried his pace until he could see what was happening as well. It seemed that two elves were in an argument, though one was significantly more passionate about it than the other. The passionate elf was yelling and gesturing furiously while the other elf was quietly speaking back and looking away between sentences.
“Calm down, Furius,” the nervous elf said. “We can solve this without strong emotions.”
“Strong emotions? Do you think I care at this point? I’m not going to take any more of you intruding on my privacy and my property while you lecture me on how I handle my emotions.”
“You’re not thinking logically, Furius. Please calm down. You know what could happen.”
“I don’t care what could happen. All I want is for you to get what you deserve.” Furius punctuated this sentence with a growl, which seemed to startle the nearby elves. He started shaking and breathing heavily, beginning to convulse more and more, until he stopped suddenly and hunched over.
A female elf rushed out from the crowd that had started growing. “Furius, my husband!” she cried, clinging to him. “What has happened to you?”
With this, Furius looked up. “Vengeance!” he roared. His stature seemed nothing like it was moments before. He was hunched, animalistic. He threw his wife to the side and her body slammed against a tree. Furius leapt at the elf he had been arguing with, snarling, when suddenly Corvander realized that someone had to intervene.
He stepped out and realized he was holding something, swinging it at the enraged elf. It did nothing to slow Furius’ momentum, though, so the elf crashed into the other and knocked him to the ground. Corvander’s blow did seem to draw Furius’ attention, though, as the elf stood up and faced him.
Corvander glanced down. He was holding a simple rock with a string tied around it. He must have done it instinctually while the argument escalated, but the makeshift weapon felt right in his hand. Well, at least as much as such a shoddy weapon could feel. He would have to make the most use of it he could.
He looked back up and locked eyes with Furius. The elf’s muscles tensed and he leaped. Corvander braced himself for the impact, but heard another elf shout something indecipherable. With a flash of light Furius fell to the ground, still frozen mid-jump. His eyes moved around rapidly.
“Furius Falco Fallibus,” the same elf said, “You have committed fits of passion on multiple occasions, and have now proven yourself too instable to exist within elven society. By decree of the Magisterium and the nobles of Cremona, you are sentenced to painless execution. You will be borne to the Magisterium chambers for your sentence and then your body will be returned to nature.” The elf that said this was dressed in a hooded gray robe. When he finished, a pair of elves from the crowd picked up Furius’ frozen body and carried it away.
The crowd dispersed slowly as the speaker elf examined the area and spoke to some of the remaining elves. He noticed Furius’ wife sobbing on the ground. “Please, Triscuita, do not let the melancholy claim your mind. You must control your emotions to prevent yourself from falling the same way. It would be a shame to see your children orphaned.” She breathed in sharply with the threat and hurried away. The robed elf then turned his attention to Corvander.
“Ah, human. That was an act of bravery. If you had not distracted Furius, then it is possible that Quietus could have been badly wounded in those few seconds. The strength of a fallen elf is not to be underestimated, as it is always destructive. What is your name?”
“Corvander Mirth.”
“What a coincidence,” the hooded elf said with a thin smile. “I’m Magister Romus Benidictus, and I believe we have an appointment.”