A wall made up of well-armed elves stood at the entrance to the docks, with the crowds even taking a break from idle chatter, sharing uneasy glances with another. Some, especially those Mahal noticed had more armor on than the rest, kept their hands stayed at their swords.

  Mahal instinctively kept himself behind his father, with Marcio walking slowly and his arms opened as he said,

  “Gentle-Elves, my son and I just need to get my son’s ”

  Mahal watched as a couple of the officers came to the front of the barricade of elves. Mahal quickly took to looking at the armor of the elves, as this would probably be the closest he’d get to seeing it for a while.

  On either flank of the central figure, two towering elves wore silver-colored armor, which had concave lines creating an outline of the sun. And in the middle of those chest plates, Mahal recognized the elven figure displayed on the front.

  From what Mahal remembered, it was the previous Elven king, King Il’lora, who was depicted decapitating the head of a Dhrami Chieftain. Something meant to be a reminder to all Dhrami whenever they were allowed to step on land.

  “Just when I thought the Dhrami couldn’t be filthier”

  Behind those two emerged the source of the voice. Sitting a little shorter than his guards, his armor managed to portray a different story. It was ordained in a golden plate, with small & flat golden roses embroidered in. If it weren’t for the night, Mahal was sure he could have blinded the entire island single handedly. Mahal thought it was particularly obnoxious how the elf had a giant flowing cape, but the situation provided Mahal incentive to keep silent.

  Marcio bowed, as well as the other Dhrami who were nearest to the Elves. With his head still bowed, Marcio said, “I only wish to gather the last pieces of my son’s wears”

  “Quite, Meklonid”

  The elf in the gold armor came forward, as if to inspect both Mahal and his father. He took his time looking between the two, all without giving the order for the Dhrami to stop bowing.

  Even when the other races bowed to Elven emissaries, it would never be more than a few seconds. But here, Mahal felt as if the elf was making sure to parade himself around, as if to make sure to show the Dhrami even more how inferior they were to them.

  After five minutes of the silent inspection, the golden elf made his way back to his peers.

  “You two, you may rise”

  Mahal and his father quickly took the queue, with his father starting to make his way into the docking area. But, the spears carried by either guard blocked off the entrance yet again.

  “Gentle-Elves, please, all we require-”

  “Shut your mouth, the very air you waste disgusts me, Meklonid” The elf then pointed to Mahal as he said “And come here, devil-child”

  Mahal looked to his father, who’s hands slightly trembled as he had his back to the guards. His father’s face showed a man full of frustration, not fearfulness. His father bit his lip, before slowly nodding to Mahal.

  Walking to the elf, the one in golden armor quickly grabbed Mahal by the shoulders, before dragging him in front of his father and everyone else. He didn’t even bother with a glance as he said to Marcio,

  “You’re the parental unit, correct?”

  Mahal’s father stayed silent, even biting his lip as he balled his fists.

  “I don’t care about your label, but your silence will mark you for even greater punishment. Now tell me, you were half the reason why we have to look at his disgusting face, yes?”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Marcio didn’t dignify the question, standing resolute. However, one of the elven guards standing hurled the butt of his spear at Marcio’s stomach, forcing him to catch his breath.

  Mahal quickly stepped closer to his father, his hands trembling as he managed to say, “He is my father- sir!”

  Mahal saw his father flinch, and in an instant, felt a horrible sensation digging into his stomach. The elf’s attention swung to Mahal, who did his best to hide his trembling as the elf said, “It’s most interesting, little su-gil. Even my own Dhramian slaves dress in a better manner than I suspect you ever have in your entire life”.

  Mahal kept himself to silence as the elf started to again inspect him, lifting his arms, before then feeling out his arms and shoulders.

  “But perhaps you can be brought to the light, just like them…”

  Mahal stole a glance over towards his father, who was beaten down just as he tried to get up. He almost reached out to his father, but felt a hand forcefully squeeze his face as it pushed him back away from the docks.

  “Look at me, Dhrami” The Golden elf grabbed Mahal by the top of his head, and slowly turned it to face him.

  “You’re a violation of the law, and all of you are violation of nature itself,”

  The Elf Captain’s face shifted from a poisonous sneer to a smile that overstayed its welcome, as if he enjoyed whatever concoction was brewing in his mind. “I’ve heard from Da Hote that you’re good with a hammer, for a Dhrami at least. Prove yourself, and perhaps I let you stay in the mud holes with the rest of them. Certainly better than the Pa’iluko your kind call ships”

  “Captain Il’lan, it’s the young one’s birthday, not a wretched slave sale”

  Mahal turned as the Elf’s grip loosened. Da Hote walked slowly, and had a slight smile as he looked over to Mahal.

  “Calm your nutsack, old man. I have no intention of actually having scum like this on my lands. By Geno’s grace, she knows we have too many of them on our lands already”

  Da Hote nodded as he took something out of his pocket, and then glanced back at the elf, “then what were you doing, captain?”

  “Nothing of your concern,” the elf captain continued to eye Da Hote as he walked over to him. “Besides, even if I was seeking more slaves, I would be well within my rights”

  “You must take me as a fool, then”

  “It’s a mercy I don’t kill him, Da Hote-”

  “Legally” Da Hote raised his hands in defense. “It’s Sir Da Hote. And since everyone here loves citing the law-” Da Hote threw a side eye at the captain as he continued “That requires you, Captain Il’lan, to step away. You’re not on elvish territory, or do you yearn for a court-martial that badly? And for Ayn’s sake, stop making such a ruckus. I swear, you are worse-behaved than a school-child who’s discovered magic”

  Da Hote helped up Marcio before wedging himself in between the two. He held his hands behind himself, and looked like an elder who was about to lecture their kin for at least two hours.

  “Sir Da Hote,” the elf’s voice became strained and taut as he leaned in close to Da Hote. “You’re dangerously close to overextending your hand. But,” the elf general leaned back, and signalled to his guards to step away. “I suppose your kind know no better”

  Mahal and Da Hote both bowed as they walked past the captain, but his father stiffly walked past, with any whispers that might’ve been exchanged carried out by the winds, and engulfed by the blistering waves that smashed against the dock.

  Once they were near their ship, he looked to Da Hote, who had exchanged his smile for a neutral expression, as Mahal said, “That was amazing, Sir Da Hote!”

  “I wouldn’t celebrate too much, though I appreciate your praise, Mahal”

  Mahal looked towards Da Hote with a tinge of confusion, “You are aware that’s was an elf?”

  Da Hote kept a blank expression on his face as they made their way to the ship. And the more he thought about it, the more the connections refused to be made. But even as Mahal mulled over it, Da Hote looked back to him,

  “I hope you know, you are capable of the same,”

  “Nonsense, I’m as capable of being brave as an elf being kind” Mahal stated as he looked at Da Hote, his mind now burnin from overwork it tried to make sense of anything the old man was saying. Didn’t Da Hote see him crumble to the ground, to struggle to say a word? Maybe, just maybe, he was actually senile. That would explain why he sensed no fear in that man.

  Da Hote only stared at Mahal though, as he studied the young man. Mahal thought perhaps both of them were confused by the other. But if they were, Da Hote had seemed to gather his bearings quicker, as he said,

  “It seems that you may have misjudged me”

  “I think I have judged you just fine”

  “Do not mistake being brave as a lack of fear, Mahal”

  “What is it, then?”

  Da Hote gently brought over his left hand in front of him, and held it up in front of Mahal. He watched as Da Hote’s hand shook, as if it was in a tempest itself. Even as he brought over his right to try and keep it still, both hands now trembled in unison. “It is the ability to take action,” Da Hote’s voice was steady as he continued, “in spite of fear, that shows we are brave”.