Elf. Smooth unblemished, tall, slender, quick, nimble with striking eyes and an equally stunning body. That's what Elsa is. It satisfied my previous suspicions about her; she wasn't just any beautiful woman; she was more a lot more.

Except not really. Here in the Kingdom of whatever, and likely across this fractured continent as well, Elves were third-class citizens. In some places they were nothing more than another commodity on the shelves.

I find it strange. Elves. Powerful, nimble ageless elves with a boot on their necks. Unable or unwilling to strike back. With the way Elsa told it, I'd wager unable.

"What about magic?" I'd asked. "I sensed it within you the first time I looked in your eyes. Although I didn't know it then."

"Our most identifiable trait," she caressed her ears a bit. I noticed they were flat where they were usually pointed and long. "They're cut off at birth with a magic, our access to mana is sealed this way. We may have vast pools of the thing but it's no use if we can't reach it."

Powerless. Like a feline declawed. I didn't bother asking how things had ended up this way. It would undoubtedly be a long history lesson starting with and ending with a war. Instead I paid more attention to the answer of the question I'd actually asked. What's up with all the dishonour?

"We aren't the only elves in the village." This I knew. The woman who'd given me an apple the day I arrived here was an elf as well. The vibe Elsa gave off was eerily similar. "Of course, the others are less unfortunate. Some of us are really lucky, we catch the eyes of a human and we're lifted from the squalor. I was lucky once."

"Your husband was human."

She nods sadly, her eyes drifting as she retells her story, "We grew up together really. He was repeatedly chided by his parents when he was found around me. Helping me, pitying me. That pity, his sympathy for me, for my kind led him to his own undoing. He ran away, he took me with him. His smile was so bright and his eyes held such optimism for a future, a bright one for the two of us, it'd be difficult for anyone to say no to that."

He breath falters, shuddering as she recalled the horror. "We came here. It was all I hoped for and more. We had Sem and we were contributing to the village, our fair share. All that changed when Lord Garland was declared unfit to rule the village. It was a shock for everyone, worst of all the elves. The new Mayor would be an outsider, one with no sympathy whatsoever for our kind, that much was sure."

"He started with the basics. A boot on the necks of anyone who dared to defy him, of course, there wasn't much to defy. The most change he brought was to the ruling structure. He rules alone now, no advisory body from the villagers themselves. That's fine. No cares, so long as we're fed and safe, if that's what he needed to get things done, that's fine."

"Then he started oppressing the elves. Targeting us really. Most of the servants are elves with no other work, he is brutal to us, the ones he fancies have it the worst. So far, you've seen me on my good days. I didn't used to be that way though, at least, not until he took my Husband away from me."

"We're on the outskirts. Monsters regularly attack us, it's expected. That's why a mage is always meant to be the ruler of such places. The Mayor, on one of these attacks, was pushed back. Unable to fend them off by his lonesome like he should have-"

"Should have?" I couldn't help but ask. She nods, caressing her head, likely feeling an ache come on.

"He is meant to be a C-rank magic user. The monsters that attacked were mere D-rank, dangerous, but nothing compared to a C-rank magic user."

I nod. There was a ranking system in place for the skill of a magic user it seems. "Continue."

"Well. We didn't have an actual guard then, not like we do now with the patrols at night. So, the Mayor was really our only line of defence. He fled and to keep the monsters away he…he ordered." Her voice cracked and trembled a bit. I placed my hand on hers. She wiped a single tear and took a breath. "He ordered that the elves be thrown out. To distract the monsters while he recovers his mana."

"My husband took my place. They came knocking on our door, urgently pulling on any adult elf in the village. They didn't tell us anything, just that all elves were required. My husband seemed to know what this was, what was going to happen. He took my place. The Mayor knew about it apparently. But there was no time, no time to correct a single human walking into the ranks of monster bait. When it was all over, he corrected that. Kept me silent by his side at the Hall, had his way with me and pushed Sem and I out of our old house. Called my husband's death dishonourable."

***

Honestly, when I set my sights on Perlman for the first time, he looked nothing like the type of man Elsa spoke of then. But we're human, we live to subvert worst and best expectations. Perlman had done so magnificently.

I look out an open window, or rather a glorified hole in the wall. Outside there's people gathered. Not the way they were gathered last time, calmly camping out the house, waiting for my serene presence to come out. Instead now they stand as a wall. Two walls parallel and opposed to each other.

"You've got fans." Anselm idly comments. I'd summoned him for the sake of company when Elsa went to bed. I doubt she's sleeping though.

I'm not sure which side he's calling fans really. The real fans or the fans.

"Garland's people are out there. If they try anything there'll be a loud enough ruckus to alert us." After Perlman and the Diviner's obvious disapproval of my existence, people within the village began taking sides. Still, I held the larger number of people. With my summoning of Garland the First, I brought on a lot of hardliners from the side-lines of things and onto my side.

"As it is, there'll be a ruckus soon. Things weren't supposed to be this complicated, I thought you just wanted money, not justice."

"You heard Elsa same as I. In fact, you probably knew about her before she told me." The dead were great history teachers, with how nosy he his, it's unlikely he didn't get any answers. "Would you have us do nothing, stand onto the side and watch how this Perlman brat gets away with…that?"

He shifts uncomfortably in his suit of armour, its meaning and implications weighing on him, "What's it to you anyway? You're a mage. An elf is your worst enemy."

"Why? Because they are naturally attuned to magic and humans can't take the competition? I say learn a thing or two from the competition. But since it's come to suppressing them, fine, but the least I could do, the least any mage could do is not be a monster."

"A monster?"

"Do you really see kicking an opponent while their down anything less than monstrous?"

"Only if the fights fair." He grunts

"You think it's not?"

"What's fair about mere elven children holding mastery over powerful elemental magic whereas humans use up their entire live spans studying for the same level of mastery?"

"Everything. That's the natural advantage gifted by your Goddess Anera isn't it? Why complain when that's the way she ordained it to be or are human's that afraid of being the weaker race?"

"Anera didn't create the elves."

I raise an eyebrow at this but don't falter in my assault, "So you say, but you know more than anyone that the true workings of deities are not for mortals to comprehend. She may have created the elves alone even and some other god created humans in mimicry of her beautiful creation."

He groans, frustrated, "You know nothing but your third leg it seems." He waves my argument off and floats off through the roof, effectively running away.

I shake my head and eat an apple. There's an abundance of food now, Sem and Elsa were particularly ecstatic about it. Anselm is an aborigine of this world, messed up as his thinking is, there's an entire history of conditioning to it. It would take more than a logical argument to convince him that this was a lot more than just…justice.

***

In the morning I tried on my new clothes. I liked it a lot, from the way it felt and the way it looked. Aside from the long silky black cloak with a hood, Garland had gifted me several pairs of fitting black trousers, a short sleeve purple shirt that had this fluff at the neck. He'd also given me a white silk scarf and a belt pouch to keep my many coins. The belt pouch also had a slot for a dagger, though I hadn't gotten one.

All in all, I was finally looking like a decent human being.

Although I felt very swanky, I did feel like I was dressed too swanky for my adoring fans. Prophets and Gurus don't were bling. And silk is a very expensive material if Elsa's slack jawed reaction was anything to go by.

Fortunately, faith looked not at outward appearance or did it? I'm not sure, so many religions to use as a reference.

I got outside and made my way to the tent with the usual horde of men and women following behind. A few waves and smiles and I not so randomly picked out two people from the crowd and summoned their ghostly relatives for them at pace. Three minutes each. I could have them stay longer, up to eight minutes now in fact, but I was trying to solidify my power in the minds of my starry eyed audience. With the confrontation yesterday, even with the buffering crowd of Garland supporters, I didn't feel like taking any chances.

My paranoia was justified when it started. It unironically started out as a food fight. People were either sitting or standing around in a circle as I spoke briefly on the requirements for being chosen. I didn't tell them the truth of course, but as I was dodging and evading questions my eyes caught some strange activity going on at the edge of the circle.

A man, standing side stepped to his right, deftly dodging a flying half-eaten apple, it lands on the head of the person behind him and he prepares for the next flying fruit. This time he catches it in his hand and returns it with such vigour I thought for sure his arm would go flying.

"Get out of here you criminal!"

That did it. Suddenly everyone is on their feet and their eyes are drawn to the light commotion. It is the Mayor.

He is flanked by a few guards and surrounded by many peasants. Not enough to outnumber my horde of about fifty but just enough to make a point. They were here for trouble.

Before I knew it lines were drawn and apples and cabbages change to shovels and pitchforks. But the Mayor had the real weapons. The unsheathing sound of a single of his guard's sword was enough to get many of my people to back away. He'd come ready for a fight.

"Make way or be cut down here and now!"

"Bring the Necromage forward!"

From what I'd learned of the Mayor, those threats were to be taken seriously. I pushed my way out the front, calming as many as I could on the way. No use for something that could be settled with myself alone to sacrifice the lives of others no?

At the front I find Perlman looking dabber than yesterday, he wore a long blue robe and held a staff in his hand and most of his fingers were littered with rings of various colours. Beside him was the Diviner, looking crotchety as ever and attempting to set me ablaze with his eyes alone.

"Foul one," Perlman starts off with an insult, "You have come. That is wise, I wouldn't want to tear through my obviously mindless workforce just to get to you."

"What do you want, Perlman."

He spits, "You may address me as Lord or Sire you charlatan." Why he continues to call me a that after seeing my powers first hand is beyond me, "I have come for your head like I promised. You call my unjust? Then I shall prove my mettle and justify my actions under the watchful eyes of our Goddess."

The Diviner steps forward, standing between us. "You are not one of this village nor this Kingdom even, but the Mayor has permitted that your foolish challenge yesterday be taken seriously." He narrows his gaze at me and mutters, "We will make a spectacle of your death and placate the sheep you herd."

I look about me, utterly confused. Had they come to kill me outright? If so then I take it back, I'd like a few bodies to hide behind while I gauge whether I can actually fight back.

A hand lands on my shoulder and I look to my side, there I find Garland the Third standing beside me, glaring equally as fierce at the Diviner and Perlman, "It's a duel." He says, "Or at least a one-on-one battle between two mages."

"Perlman and I?"

He nods solemnly, "I don't suppose you know any battle magic?"

I did. In fact, I had many. Between killer Soul Drain and proficiency dependent Create Undead, there was a plethora of skills I'd yet to try. This was just the third day being here in this village, but my time in the world as a whole has been nothing if not eventful. Between trying to survive and living it up, I've had no time to practice and improve my apparently heretical magic.

Summon Spirit and Sense Death weren't enough to push my proficiency to the level I needed to actually protect myself with magic. Animate Animal? I can't be seen messing around with the livestock and there's the fact that I'd much rather eat it than render it inedible with necrotic energies.

I shook my head, "No, I don't." But I did have eight minutes of an unkillable spirit by my side, "But I've got an idea."

He nods, not bothering to ask. "Very well Perlman. What are your terms?"

Perlman's face twists into a wicked grin, thinking his victory assured no doubt. "I want both of your heads on a spike." He bursts out into a manic laughter, "That's not too much to ask is it? Surely not!"

Garlands lip thins. A grim demand no doubt, for me it's nothing other than another round at the darkness. Well, it wasn't darkness was it. It was another world, this one. I wonder, if I die again would I reincarnate into yet another world? Will I be forced to live on and on without rest or respite?

"We accept!" Garland lets out boldly, resolving himself for whatever comes. The crowd behind us gasps and murmurs. I'm not sure if he has a son to carry his name but I knew his death would be the end of any decency in the village.

"And your terms?" Perlman asks, bored.

Garland looks to me and I realize that I am to decide. I knew what I wanted from Perlman. I want his head, but his head likely wouldn't be enough to sate me, it definitely wouldn't be enough to protect Elsa and Sem as they would only send another magic attuned noble snub to replace him.

"How much do you have?"

That confuses many, even Perlman. "How much coin do you have in your coffers? Not the villages."

He grits his teeth and clenches his fists. "Enough." He mutters.

"Answer him, Perlman. It is law." Strangely it's the Diviner that intercedes. Principles, I guess.

Reluctantly he spits out, "About fifty gold."

Another round of gasps followed by hate filled curses. No doubt a lot of that was embezzled. "I'll have all of it as well as your head then. It's only fair, you won't be using it where you're going to."

Garland chuckles beside me, "Aye, that is true."

"Do you accept these terms, Perlman?" The Diviner asks.

"Yes." Perlman bites out. "I do."

"Then so be it. The Mage duel shall be held here at sunset. We shall gather your reward."

Fifty gold and the head of scum. Fifty gold. I'd never go hungry again, and neither would Elsa nor Sem.