"What will you do with me. . . huh."
The words rattled around his skull well a blank expression hung from his face, as he wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do with her. He was mostly indifferent to slavery, but not too keen on being the one to sell a person.
"I could take her with me I suppose." The thought came to mind, however he knew his path would be dangerous and not one for the faint of heart. Many terrible things could befall her well travelling, especially outside the Empire.
"Well I'm not going to sell you. . . And I'm not taking you with me. . ." Damian tossed the key to her caller, Elise managed to catch it, grasping it tightly well she stared in confusion. "So this is where we part ways, you're now a free woman, so long."
Damian crumpled up the deed to Elise and lit a match to it, the paper began to burn as he dropped it on the ground before turning on his heel. He made it five paces before her voice called out to him.
"Absolutely not!" Her voice bashed against him, her unexpected rebuttal making him turn to face her. "You can't just leave me here, I'll end up starving on the street." The two of them locked eyes, Damian had never seen a woman so offended by something in his life.
He couldn't help himself, a smirk turned into a smile, and that smile turned to laughter. His fist covered his mouth as he cackled, and Elise scowled harder than she already was. "And what exactly is so funny?" Damian controlled himself enough to maintain most of his composure, though a smile still remained across his smug mouth.
"I can't say I ever met a slave that not only didn't want to be free, but had such an attitude about it." Elise crossed her arms, she narrowed her eyes towards him. "Look, Elise. . . It's Elise right?" He asked as her eyes narrowed into daggers, now piercing through his weathered breastplate. "Elise where I'm headed is neither going to be fun nor safe, and the people there would kill me if they knew who I am. If your with me your likely to re-enslaved, or raped or killed. Perhaps a combination of all three, and since I just burned the deed to your ownership, I can't sell you. So, best of luck."
Damian nodded and turned around and began walking, sighing as he heard rapid foot steps. He turned before she could grab him, catching her by the wrist. "Well you can't leave me here either, you may as well be killing me by abandoning me on the streets." Composing himself once again holding in his laughter, he asked her a question. "Is this what the butler was talking about, when he told you to behave yourself?"
She didn't reply, not with words. Her eyes had a fire in them, not just for survival, an inferno for something more. The farther he looked the more he could see, as it wasn't just fire he saw in her. There was desperation, a cry to not be left alone.
"I'll take you with me." His face straightened, and he let her go. "However if you're travelling with me you do what I say when I say it, I can tell you've never travelled before so I expect you to listen. Winter isn't far away and we're going north, understood." He stated it not as a question, but she nodded anyway.
"Alright come on don't fall behind, and take that off you look ridiculous." He waved his hand and once again started walking, Elise released the caller from her neck and tossed it to the ground. "So what are we doing now!" She asked with great intensity, making Damian turn his head with narrowed eyes. "You're rather bold, I can tell you weren't born into slavery, not with that spirit." Elise nodded in response. "We're going to buy you an outfit, and I'm getting some new fucking boots."
"Isn't clothing expensive?" She asked as they neared the market. "Yes but unless you're keen on freezing to death you'll need warmer clothing. Also just as a note try not to speak so. . ." Realization hit him like a mace to the chest, he stopped flicking his head around. "You speak High Faelic, you've been speaking it this entire time, fluently. How?"
High Faelic, the language of noblemen and the upper echelons of the Empire's society. Most of the citizens, commoners and slaves of the Empire spoke Low Faelic, a much simpler variation of the language.
"I learned it well I was serving Lord Atticus, why is it an issue?" She asked, her eyes wide, unsure if she had done something wrong. "Yes but I recall being told you were only with them a short time, how long did it take you to learn?"
He asked and leaned forward slightly, she lowered her chin and spoke softly. "About three weeks." He choked, on nothing but the absurdity of her answer. He chuckled after, casting his gaze downwards shaking his head. "Elise, who are your parents?"
He asked, returning his back to her. "I don't know I never met them, I'm an orphan." She replied, a hint of sorrow off her tongue. "Well if I'd have to guess then I'd say your father was likely a High Elf, I'm nearly certain actually." Elise tilted her head. "Why my father?" She asked, her attention focused on his every word. "Unless your mother died after your birth, then I'd say it'd be your father, High Elves always raise their children."
"Huh." The words left her mouth as she pondered the information she was presented with. "Now you speak the common tongue, Low Faelic right? Speak that well in public, it's for safety." Elise snapped her attention back onto Damian.
"Why?" She asked, curiosity practically pouring from her eyes. "Definitely a High Elf." Damian thought to himself, a smirk now curled in the corner of his mouth. "Didn't I tell you to do what I say, when I say it." She scowled, a sigh escaped her as Damian kept walking. Now in the common tongue she replied. "Yes sir." Damian wanted to look back, the sarcasm was unexpected so he repaid it in kind. "Why thank you for the knighting." He snickered. Elise caught up to him keeping pace, her eyes rolled as they entered the market.
A punch to the gut would have made her feel more at ease, she felt queasy and did her best to push forward. Damian took notice of her sudden change in demeanor, looking back at her pale complexion getting even more so.
"Sorry I guess I should have taken a different route." The slave market, Elise seeing it for the first time since she was bought and sold. She held herself together taking in a deep breath, her hand brushed against her throat that was still sore from the caller. "I'm fine." Damian knew better than to push it, he led them forward into the market proper.
The sight and stench of the slave market was now behind them, and the new assortment of colours was nice on the eyes. Stalls of spices, fabrics, weapons, foods and other goods spanned across the expanse of the Erybridge market.
Elise began to wander from stall to stall, her eyes darting wildly leading her to each new stimulating sight. Damian kept close, letting her have this moment of her new found freedom. It was amusing, watching a grown woman dance about the market, a child-like wonder for each new thing.
Eventually he had to drag her from the bustle of street vendors into a proper shop, after all they had reasons for being here. Elise was disappointed for a moment, before her attention focused now to the many articles of clothing she found herself surrounded by.
"Welcome." A feminine voice called from the end of the shop, a woman in her later years entered from the back room, a gasp left her mouth. "My, my. It's said you may only see a High Elf once in your life, how grateful I am on this day." The woman's words were like honey and a home cooked meal.
"Half Elf, unfortunately." Damian corrected her, she smiled regardless. "Close enough. Now dearies, what can I do for you?" She asked as Damian nodded his head at Elise, she stepped forward holding her one hand with the other.
"My companion and I will be travelling northwards, I wanted to get her something for the fall and winter as we'll be there for some time." The woman nodded with a smile, and extended her hand out to Elise. "Come with my sweetheart, I'd like to take some measurements." Elise cocked her head back towards Damian, his attention was focused elsewhere on the small shoe rack well she disappeared into the back.
Well Elise was fitted for clothes Damian had managed to find a pair of boots, they fit well enough that he wouldn't have to worry in combat, and comfortable enough for travel. By the time the women were done in the back he'd already scouted the shop for any useful clothing, picking out a pair of leather gloves for Elise. He knew the bitterness of Alenvaillian winters well enough to prepare for them, and for someone who has never experienced it she'd need all the protection one could muster.
"I think this looks just lovely on her, don't you mister?" Damian looked up from the front counter, the woman holding Elise by the shoulders presenting her to him. She was wrapped in a tight fitting black surcoat, a layer of insulation below and a white blouse that showed near her cleavage. She wore a black skirt that went to about her knees, white horizontal stripes at the end. Thick black trousers that were tucked into her boots that climbed nearly to the top of her shins, an embroidered brown leather belt held it all together well a large black cloak was draped across her.
Elise twirled, she ran a hand through her hair and flicked it up, she smiled and stared at him expectantly. "Looks good, I'd also like to include these boots and gloves as well." Elise lowered her shoulders, Damian denied her ego with the lack of compliments she was wanting. "I can see why he pawned her off to me."
The shop keep shuffled behind the front counter and referred to her ledger, Elise stood by Damian in the meanwhile, her ire casted upon him. "With everything that'll be seven silvers." Damian coughed. "Seven silvers is steep, perhaps you'd be willing to come down just a coin. After all, you did have the privilege of seeing a High Elf."
He leaned on the counter, the woman's eyes raised. "Half Elf." She rebutted, Damian tightened his smile. "Close enough, your words." The woman snorted, amused just enough to be swayed. "I can do six silvers." Damian extended his hand and shook hers. "My fair lady, you have a deal."
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The two of them sat down after a handful of hours after wandering the city and purchasing supplies, a troupe of bards played in the corner of the tavern, a soft melody now drifting throughout the room.
"Two ales and two bowls of soup with some bread, butter as well." Damian said to the Gnome bar maid as she skittered about, she only stood about three feet tall, and Damian wondered how many times a drunkard tripped over her in a night.
Elise sat across from Damian, he hadn't noticed that she was staring at him, not until she cleared her throat. "Yes?" He asked, looking at his companion, well flickering lantern light danced across her face. "I would like to thank you."
She said it firmly, her chin held high. Damian then waited, but she said nothing else. "Your welcome?" He tilted his head. "Is there anything else?" He asked, unsure of what to say or do next.
"You didn't have to take me with you, nor buy me such nice clothes. When I walked out of the manor earlier I was terrified, however you've treated me very well so far, so thank you." She blurted everything out rather quickly, then turned her head away. Damian smiled, then rubbed the side of his cheek before saying. "Well in all honestly I don't think I would have without you being so offended by it, honestly I found the whole thing hilarious, so you do also have yourself to thank." Elise looked back towards him and shook her head. "I suppose I do, but still you've done me a great kindness Damian. . ." Her head tilted to the side, her brow furled.
"Here you are, food will be up soon!" The Gnomish lass said nearly chucking the pints of ale on the table, she quickly darted back to the bar as the tavern began to fill up now that the sun had set. Damian lifted his mug, but did not drink. "You were saying?"
Elise looked at the amber liquid in the wooden cup, gathering her thoughts. "Forgive me but I don't know your last name." Damian chuckled briefly. "That's because I forsaken it some time ago, it's just Damian now. But many know me by my moniker, The Red Wolf of Markel." He said deepening his tone, his artificial voice sounding ridiculous, to which he laughed over.
"What about you Elise, any maiden names to speak of?" She shook her head, not surprising for an orphan. "Well then." Damian lifted his mug, Elise grabbed hers with both hands lifting it from the table. "To being without last names, I find them tedious anyhow, cheers."
The mugs smacked into each other, a girlish giggle escaped Elise before she drank. To his surprise she drank the putrid liquid with ease. "I didn't take you for an ale drinker." He said, taking another gulp. "Back in the orphanage we mostly drank watery ale and grog, it was safer than the well water but didn't taste like it. Gods know the manor here was the first time I had water that was clear, and not filled with well. . . Stuff."
Damian chuckled, setting his mug down. The Gnomish bar maid returned juggling multiple plates and bowls, she set down two soups, and a plate of bread and butter before fleeing once more.
Damian reached for his and grabbed a hunk of bread, he started to sip and savor the soup of ambiguous flavors, Elise did not. "Something wrong?" He pushed the second bowl towards her, her hands came forward taking it from him. "Sorry it's just back at the manor I'd have to wait for the other service staff to eat before I could, the newest of the staff ate last, I guess that no longer applies." She looked up at him before her eyes returned to the bowl, she grasped the spoon with one hand and some bread with the other. The two of them ate mostly in silence, bits of conversation between them until dinner was done. They talked for a while longer before they retired for the night, Damian had purchased two rooms at an inn just across the street.
They separated, each of them had their own space for the night. Elise entered her room, saying goodnight to her new found companion. She undressed in the privacy of her room and ensured her new clothes were folded neatly on the side table, she laid in bed with her gaze cast upon the ceiling. Her half Elven eyes seeing well in the darkness, she made out each crack and crease in the wooden boards above her. Though her mind was elsewhere, everything about today seemed unreal to her.
"Is this real?" She said softly, to either herself or whatever spirts, phantoms or gods listening. "I'm afraid, is that normal, to be afraid of this?" Her voice quieter than before, she laid still for a few minutes before shaking her head. "Go to bed Elise, go to bed."