the aboriginal elf

[beneviolent]

the aboriginal elf-----------------
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His head leaned against a pillar and the rune covered brown cheek rested against the time worn stone. Around him was the circle of eight of two. From time to time he appeared conscious and once his yellow eyes looked up to great tree's arbor spread wide high overhead. "Hail tall one, your trunk is tall and strong. Thank you for the shelter of your arms" he croaked in tree tongue before his eyes closed from the effort.

A wound leaked a few drops of blood past the moss poultice. His head lolled and he remembered.
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"So, you don't speak Common well?"

"No. Nin esse na en illnyealan naith tel en van rim faoema alatymyilm."

The armored man looks disappointed and says, "I clearly have no idea what that meant."

"Ean amilla on an anim lae im nyill pedo tel en illnyealan anesala," the elf rattles on before changing tongues. "Common," then more emphatically, "No."

The man rubs his head. "I need Terri. She would understand that Gobble goop."

"tery."

As a woman comes running up the armored man beseeches her. "Oh thank the gods. He is talking and I have no idea what he is saying."

"Oh?" responds the woman.

The elf points south. "Go."

The woman answers in elven, "Le uva fa enila nef ilcela?"

"Toloth tel ad."

"You will be okay here alone?" she continues. She repeats, "Eight of two,"
then turns and explains to the man. "Eight stones of two."

"Oh crap now your talking that way too."

The elf stares. "Ilaa.. toloth laanelala tel ad."

"He speaks of the pillars Mercury."

The elf twists a leaf blade off a bush and chews on it implacably.

"What Pillars?"

"These pillars."

"He says they are elvin."

The elf rests his cheek against a pillar. "Safe."

"What is he doing?"

"I raised him here. He must think the place is holy now."

The elf chews on a leaf.

"Hmm. strange."

"He is a good elf."

The elf repeats. "Safe."

"Should we leave him here?"

One arm motions wide to them, "Go." Before he rests his hand on a pillar. "Safe."

"I guess he is okay."

"Farewell then, Laac."

"I guess so."

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And he remembered her. The feral girl with the deep brown skin. Her long dair, dark brown of rather messy dreadlocks tied together into a ponytail, decorated with various knick-knacks. A naturey type with a bow close at hand, obviously not from around here. A distinctly tribal look about her.

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And he felt the sweet breezes of a butterflies. And he saw the lightning bugs sparkle in the woods.

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And more dimly he thought he heard the dim words of his past. The tale of his shaman and the screams of warcries above the thundering racket of his Khentaur brothers hooves.
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Elethineth Teu-Tel'Quessir