A girl was pacing around restlessly her velvet hair flailing wildly each time she turned, distress on her face reflected her mental state. Days ago she went to spirit lake to investigate a disruption. Though alarmed, her home was mostly unscathed. In fact some small game that fled from the vicinity of the lake wandered close enough for her village to catch. She even got some for herself with a reserve bow. But that came with the price of her earning the ire of the spirit, who then tirelessly chased her with what could be anything but benevolence. Of course she didn’t tell the elders, she didn’t know what they would do to her but it couldn’t have been something that she would like. It seemed that the spirit left her alone unfortunately she couldn’t escape from the repercussions forever.

Knowing that they relied on one of her rivers for water, in order to draw her out they were polluted. It was benign for the most part, if you were to bear with the gummy and ashen taste it had. But the message was clear and directed at her, she must do something or the pollution will render the water non-potable, forcing the whole village to either wither away without a drop of water or go on a perilous journey in search of a new place to take shelter. According to the stories of the elders they were descendants of exiles that fled from their now fallen kingdom.

They were already wandering refugees before, turning into it again was absolutely unacceptable. And as the individual who brought about this situation she was at crossroads. Tell the truth and think of a way to get out of this predicament together, however their consensus would probably end up to her being the one used to soothe the raging spirit. Or leave everything behind and run away alone… Unimaginable.

Only real choice for her was solving the issue at hand, without anyone knowing. If she failed… Perhaps it’ll end with just her death. Still she lacked the courage, no one sane person could fearlessly walk to what may be the executioner’s block. And the last option was… ‘Fight? Can I even win? No I can’t… If I fail everyone will be held accountable… Ahhh what do I do…’ her pacing back and forth as if to create a path in the turf below seemed to have no end in sight…

• ‘Come to the lake ahead…’

• “Who’s that?! Where are you?! Show yourself!”

Despite the confident questioning internally she was downright terrified. The voice seemed to reverberate from inside her head… Almost as though some intruder was in her mind.

• ‘I’ve been waiting… come…’

Whatever that was calling her knew her and based on the content of what was said, it has been waiting for her. There was only one who fits into these criteria. The seemingly inoffensive invitation could only be interpreted as a death sentence. She was out of time, she had to make her choice now, turn back condemning all or face forwards and hope for the best. If there was one consolation to her, the voice she heard was mellow different from that of the Spirit she knew who employed a snappy sharp tone. Perhaps… Maybe just maybe it won't end in a disaster. Carrying onto that sliver of hope she stepped onwards with shuddering steps…

  As she drew near to the lake and could make out some glimpses of it through the vegetation, the whiff of humid air was becoming more and more noticeable. There the spirit adorned in white stood at the shore of the lake with her back towards her, long beryl hair slightly waving sideways in the breeze. She turned to face her, causing the Elven girl’s heart rate to jump. A streak of cold sweating running down the side of her face, waiting in abatement.

• “Highborne, Faenas was it?”

Silent, short nod was her answer.

• “Welcome, I believe this is yours?”

It was her bow, she would recognize her own handicraft anywhere.

• “There’s someone who would like to meet you. She, a friend of mine, wanted to return to you but you seemed to have been spooked by them.”

Faenas was both intrigued and frightened wondering who could befriend a greater spirit, were they the one who chased her? Was it just a big misunderstanding? She didn’t want to hold onto false hope only to be crushed by it, yet she still wished for it.

• “Cat got your tongue? Or have you forgotten how to thank someone? Perhaps you don’t want it anymore seeing as how you have another one?”
• “No! I…- thank you…”
• “Say that not to me but to her…”

The spirit’s sights were slightly off, seemingly looking at something behind her. Following her gaze she turned around and she was stunned speechless for a moment from what was there. Standing behind her was a beautiful elven woman with porcelain white skin, silken dress of unknown design.  Of her features what surprised her the most fluttering platinum hair cascading down to the hips.

• “Noble of the silver line!?”
• “Hm? I think you’ve mistaken me for someone. Allow me to introduce myself, Araneae spirit Alicia. And you are…?”

‘I know your name but bringing that up now would be a bit weird huh… Starting my first greeting with ‘Hey! I know your name because I was hiding and stalking you while listening in on your conversation. ‘Why?’ you may ask? Because I needed to take a closer look at you so I can turn into the same species as you.’ doesn’t seem like a bright idea. Now what was that about the silver something? Probably nothing.’

• “Ah! Euh.. Um… Lyrrea Faenas. Elven ranger captain from the Werdun village.”
• “Nice to meet you Faenas I would like to ask something but before I forget I would like to apologize for scaring you… then…”
• “No! No! It was because of my carelessness. I should be apologizing.”

‘Let’s not start this never ending loop…’

• “Then let’s just call it even.”
• “I wouldn-”
• “Now how’s that even?”

Unamused spirit questioned as she sat on a large exposed rock swinging her legs to and fro, drawing intricate patterns on the lake’s surface without facing the two.

• ‘Shush… Don’t have to make this complicated. I’ll be back soon I promise.’

Receiving Alicia’s telepathic message the spirit was left sulking. Naturally one who called Faenas to come was also her.

• “Huh?”
• “Don’t worry she’s just sour that I’m leaving.”

Since spending some time with her over the duration making the net trap Alicia learned much about the spirit. Mostly of her loneliness and melancholy; how she’s unusually possessive over any company. There was something more but she couldn’t gleam into it. A part of which is her aversion to the elves, something borne of a mix of emotions.

• “Now, I know a little about your village from my friend here and she told me that there’s someone who’s skilled with the swords.”
• “Ah yes! You’re talking about Ash.”
• “Would it be possible for me to meet him?”
• “Of cou- I mean I will tell him to come.”
• “No please, I don’t want to inconvenience them, I’ll go with you could you lead the way?”

Faenas seemed to be uncertain about something but after some deliberation:

• “Sure thing…”

‘Hm… judging by how happy to help she is there’s something more to the relationship between the spirit and the elves. Maybe things weren’t always this antagonistic.’

‘Seems her home is some ways off… it’s gonna be a long walk south east.’ 

• “Faenas, if it’s not secret could you tell me more about your place?”
• “Certainly…-

…

..

.

Earnestly the girl told Alicia not only about the village and their residents but also the many aspects of their lives and daily routines. The idle chatter was pleasant enough with some intriguing facts like how she’s over 300 years old but something else was bothering her, thus she asked the young girl.

• “Tell me what do you see me as?”

Both of them stopped. Elf was having difficulty answering which is what she was worried about.

“Do you know that spirits can change their shape freely? I could be a monster masquerading as someone you trust.”

Receiving a soundless affirmation she continued.

“Then I must ask you why you’re this trustful of me but you are frightened by her.”

A moment of silence passed. Inhaling lungful of air and slowly letting it out.

• “Wind spirits are capricious and free willed; also they’re greatly sensitive to emotions. All of us are already born with wind spirits’ blessing, so we’re quite adept at reading others' mood and intentions thanks to their whispers. They’re aren’t telling me that you’re dangerous… No, they tell me how much they like you.”

For the first time Alicia was amazed and baffled.

• “And you trust them? Don’t you ever think they have been tricked?”
• “More than my parents. After all they've been with us all since our birth. Besides it is hard to trick them intentionally. Believe me I’ve tried.”
• “Then what about her?”

Her expression turned somber.

• “Conflicting with her outwardly calm appearance… Spirits become chaotic when near her, they storm around her making it impossible to read her intentions. Spirits fear her and fear is contagious.”

• “And not me?”
• “No… not at all…”
• “Even now?”

When she asked so < Mimicry > was disabled and Alicia had already assumed her original form. Fangs plainly bared and her stature towering over the Elven girl. In spite of it all she only seemed to be only mildly surprised.

• “Erhm… just a little. You don’t feel any less personable.”

Alicia let out a resigned sigh while changing back into elven form.

• “Fine, I give up.”
• “Others at the village might not share the sentiment though…”
• “That’s more sensible. Can’t be helped though.”
• “I don’t know about elders actually, but bringing some food, especially fat and protein no matter how meagre is very much appreciated by everyone. Might be a good place to start?”
• “You’re convincing enough with your salivation… Sure you’re not just talking about yourself…?”

Quickly wiping away some of her drool;

• “No, No, I mean it! Elders on the other hand might be readily accepting of you…”
• “And why’s that?”

Before she could answer, their lively conversation came to halt when high pitched whistling echoed from throughout the woods with different others whistling each with similar but unique in their own right followed up as if to answer the first one. Moment Faenas heard these she became alert. And responded with her own whistle unique in a way that it was warbling which started slow but eventually picking up the pace and shifting to higher and higher pitch.

• “Care to tell me what that was?”
• “Signal sirens, something big’s going to the village. Something really bad.”

‘Wow… how very specific…⸮ Well I’m still impressed that they can infer that much with just whistling as a medium for communication.’

• “From your friends?”
• “Yes. I have to hurry.”
• “I think I can keep up.”
• “Let’s go then.”