Prologue: ♠ Elves didn’t always have pointed ears ♠
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Gazing at the blooming flowers of our family garden as well as sneaking at my funny nanny who usually ate her snacks under the shade of a nearby tree were few of the things I loved to do.

Tip-toeing on a time-worn wooden chair, I watched the things happening outside through the big window in my room, seeking to ease a bit of boredom in me. From there, I could smell the sweet budding scent of the beautiful flowers, the wind sharing its essence to everyone in the mansion. 

Peeking through the edges of the window, my nanny would always make me laugh due to her antics. One time, I saw her sneaking out from our kitchen, her steps mum of any echoes as she took out a batch of yummy baked biscuit snacks which she loved to eat. Despite her sneakiness, she would always end up getting caught by the cold-looking chef auntie, it’s funny since two of them looked like they were playing a game called the cat and the mouse.

My dad and mom were always away due to the work given to them by Uncle Baron. So our caretaker was the one attending and caring for us. She also assures that we were always happy and contented – me, older sister, and my eldest brother loved her very much.

Before nighttime, my nanny would come to each of room to bring some leftover snacks she hid away from the kitchen’s auntie. Her arrival smelled like a parade of flowers in spring as the fragrance seeped throughout each of our rooms.

I really liked that smell...

Every time she came to my room, she would read me a story from an odd-looking book. It was a wood-laden book unlike those that I saw in mom and dad's library.

The first time I saw it, I ogled the queer-looking book with my eyes wide open due to curiosity. Since then,  I would always rubbernecked the thick book if I saw my nanny carrying it.

Until one day, I decided to build up my courage as an urge struck me while staring at it.

“What ish that?,” lisping a little I asked her.

“Pftt…Little master, this is a storybook from my family,” she answered as she laughed gently, having seen my eyes sparkle. Her laughter made my face feel funny and hot like a chili.

“Ohhh.., A storybook?” I asked her, feeling a little silly.

“Little master, this is a book where you could read many stories. There are funny stories about drunk dwarfs, fluffy beastman, mighty dragons, witty gnomes, uncanny fairies and many more.” She answered me while smiling as I gazed at her deep red eyes.

My eyes went saucers and my mouth was wide open that you could stuff an egg on it. On tiptoes, I reached out towards the thick rigid book on her lap, a pulse of itchiness calling my fingertips to lunge towards the book.

But when I was about to reach it, I remembered what my mom taught me about basic manners.

My mom told me that if you need something you need to ask them kindly first. So I asked her.

“Really? Can I Look at it?”

“Of course my little master, now spread out your two hands,” she giggled while carefully putting the odd-looking book towards my wide open grasp.

Bound in bizarre wood, rugged and dry with age, the thin papers smelled faintly of cedar. The cover like silk, smooth and velvety. Yet, it was as heavy as the books in my mom’s library. Upon opening the book, I saw a gleaming yet familiar zigzags appearing out from nowhere, it was just like the ugly scrawls my mom and older sister used to teach every time.

Reminiscing those sleepy and boring sessions which were forced on me, I felt dizzy, my eyes swimming away with my thoughts. Yawing my head towards my nursemaid, I saw her smirking discreetly. My eyes went round and my cheeks turned like a red apple.

She thinks I’m funny. Hmph.

I puffed up my chest to show her that I wasn’t someone you could just ruffle up. Still, I could feel my cheeks searing in funny heat. In jitters, my shaking hand pointed at the wriggly letter and said. “This a line is free, that is dwarf, that is, amnnh,… a tree. Yeah, a tree, hmmmp.”

“Hahaha! Cute, Little master. That’s right it’s a tree, a tree alright. Pftt, wait a moment, Hahaha,” she mischievously laughed. She took her time chortling at me loudly.

“…”

“Hmmph!”

Ignoring her, I gazed at that letter. I promised myself that I was going to memorize it,  burning the image of the squirmy lines to my mind. Later, I’m going to ask my great older sister about this tree-thingy.

A few moments later I could still hear the tiny peals of giggles coming caretaker. It seemed like she was finding it hard to restrain herself.

Squinting my eyes to stop her from laughing, I tried to copy my mom’s cold mannequin look every time my dad does something funny and stupid. This always worked against my dad, shutting him up every time, maybe this would do the job.

...

Yet, it wasn’t effective, I could still hear her titters across the room.

Spotting at the wooden book, another idea to make her stop suddenly struck me.  

“Hey, stop laughing! Read it.” I said as I pouted my lips.

She would definitely find it hard to read herself, such wiggly letters.

Hmmp, who could read it! I'll laugh at her face later.

“Read what? Oh. Fine, fine little master. Wait for a minute. Sit here.” She said as she tapped the bed near her. I immediately took the seat beside her.

“Okay, let's start reading, my cute master,” she said with glee as she unlatched the cover of the book. "Let's see, hmm. This story will do.”

She inhaled and exhaled slowly as if trying to recompose herself.

All of a sudden,  silence engulfed the room as the cool spring wind crept through the open windows. The sweet wind caressing my face.

My nanny's gaze lingered for a moment on the setting sun through my window, and then to the newly flickering candle on my table. Finally, she settled on the craggy-looking old wooden book. Then, the room fell silent again. I couldn’t even hear the buzzing of the insects in the nearby trees, nor the croaking of the frogs.

Bereft from any of its fetters, the wind whispered to the trees, its leaves like an orchestra playing a waltzing tempo for its audience.

It was odd, as if nature itself seemed to be waiting for her words, acknowledging her existence.

It felt like we had arrived at a different place, a land full of unknown and mysteries.

She then stared at me, her pupils shifting hue from crimson to a mystifying lilac, as her lips curled into a beam. In a soft hum, she then asked me.

"Little master, did you know elves didn't always have pointed ears?"

Prologue for your Hearts. You can support Tryst: City of Scholars by simply clicking the heart button at the right side below. Comments and reviews are also much appreciated. Thanks! Edited (6/19/19)

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