The Elven Omen

  For many years, the people of the City of Fios tell the story of the Elven Omen. A tall figure with pointed ears and golden eyes who came by driftwood to the beaches. Many believe him to be nothing of myth and fairytale. It is said he was the bringer of death and doom. However, to those who all those years ago encountered the Elf, he was a harbinger of hope and freedom among the Elwen people unfortunate enough to live in the Empire of Tulushia…

   "Excuse me, could you tell me where I am?" Tulmir asked, politely.

"By Gods!" A young man, standing behind the portmasters podium, answered with surprise.

  Tulmir had washed up on the shores of Tulushia just hours ago. His clothes had been tattered to shreds and waterlogged. His left ear had been ripped at the base of its upper lobe. The right ear was still long and pointed like the end of a dagger. His hair was long and crusted with sand and bits of driftwood.

 "I'm sorry to frighten you," Tulmir began. "You see I was sailing my tri-pod off the coast when that scowl blew me into some rocks." 

  The portmaster's jaw was locked in an open trance. He stared at the tall elf before eventually backing away and heading off the dock. 

   Peculiar creatures, these men. Tulmir thought to himself, watching every man, woman and child on the docks turning their heads to look at him. 

   He wandered about the large port. A dozen ships sat moored in large piers. Several of them unloaded large wooden crates of cargo. The street fronting the port appeared to be a small market. Stalls with merchants peddling fruits, meats and articles of clothing stood in front of true storefronts and waterfront houses. The smell of boiling stew caught Tulmir’s nostrils. His stomach growled. He could not remember the last time he had something to eat. The sight of food came into view. A small woman, barely reaching over her counter of an outside bar. As he approached her, he noticed a similarity to himself. 

  Her ears… 

  “Hello, dear lady.” Tulmir began when the small woman dropped a bowl of stew. 

  “Bless me…” She whispered. “You’re—You’re..” 

“An Elf?” Tulmir chuckled, and the woman fainted. He flinched at the sound of her body thumping on the cobblestone. 

   He kneeled next to her and attempted to wake her, she would not budge. So, he took her into the crook of his arms and carried her over to the wooden bench in the rear of her small shop. Tulmir took a look around as he awaited her to wake. Small iron pots hung from a wicker rack in the ceiling. Wooden bowls and plates sat stacked on shelves all around the room. He was tempted to scoop himself a bowl of stew, from the cauldron boiling over a small cook fire beneath the bar. However, he would be called a thief. 

  Moments later, the small women began to wake. She sat up slowly, and brushed her bright red hair from her face. 

  “I did not mean to startle you miss.” Tulmir smiled. 

“Well startle me you did.” Her eyes were still wide. 

   “May I have your name?” Tulmir asked. “I am Tulmir.” 

“Abria..I am Abria.” She scooted herself up on the bench, so her feet could touch the floor. 

  “Pleasure young lady.” Tulmir smiled wide, then, a commotion stirred in the street outside of the shop. 

   Tulmir rose and turned to find three men, wearing purple and black tunics over mail and grasping swords at their hips. The man in front, who was in laminar plate in place of mail, stepped forward. 

     “Elf.” He began, sternly and somewhat cold. “You are to come with us.” “And why is that?” Tulmir did not move, nor did he show a glimmer of fear. 

      “You are causing quite a disturbance amongst the people.” The guard stepped forward gripping his sword. 

    “Best you release your weapon, sir.” 

“Is that so?” The guard drew his sword, “And what are you going to do if I don’t?” 

    Tulmir stepped back, and shielded Abria with his arm. “Leave girl.” 

The guard charged Tulmir and he darted out of the way, grabbing an iron pot from the ceiling before smacking the man in the back of the head with it. The other two guards came for him, swords drawn. The first man swung his sword high, at Tulmirs head. The elf moved to his left and grabbed the man's sword arm, twisted it with the sound of crunching bones and wretched the blade from his grip. Tulmir could hear Abria gasp in horror as she hid somewhere in the room. 

  The second guard hesitated, fear twinkled in the young man's eyes. 

“I will give you one chance lad..” Tulmir spoke clearly. 

  The guard charged, and made a sloppy horizontal cut at the elf’s waist leaving his face exposed. Tulmir took the opening and drove the point of his newly acquired blade through the man’s unprotected face. The sound of steel crunching through flesh and bone echoed in the small stone room. He fell with a hard thump, and his lifeblood pooled on the cobbles beneath him. 

   The guard whose arm had been broken spotted Abria, and reached for her. “Elwen bitch!” 

  The young girl screamed as he yanked her from her hiding spot. Tulmir lunged at the man but stopped, when the guard pulled a dagger and held it to the girl's throat. 

   “Come no closer, Elf.” The man’s eyes held nothing but malice. 

“She means you no harm, why involve her?” Tulmir’s lip twinged. “This is between us, coward.” 

   “Coward!” The man threw Abria at Tulmir and followed close after. 

Tulmir caught the girl, and also threw her aside with a crash. He ducked beneath the man's legs flipping him over his back and into the boiling pot of stew. The iron pot flew to the floor with a crash, and the man began to panic as his breeches caught fire. Tulmir did not hesitate, and took the moment to drive his blade deep in the man's chest. The guard let out a wet wheeze, with bits of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. 

   After a moment to catch his breath, Tulmir extended a hand to Abria. 

“I apologize My lady..” He grumbled, not unkindly. “I did not intend to cause such a stir.” 

  She rose slowly to her feet, “There is always a stir around here I’m afraid.” Abria brushed herself off. “Not to be rude..but it might be best if you find your way away from here.” 

   “I dare say you are right.” Tulmir chuckled. “It has been a pleasure Abria. And for your troubles.” Tulmir reached around the nape of his neck, and unclasped the Elven silver chain that hung there. At the end, was a bright golden stone, like no other found in Tulushia. 

  “My good sir…” Abria gasped, and dropped her jaw wide open. “This is..” 

“A stone of Maryia.” Tulmir smiled. “We are kin you and I.” He brushed his blonde hair over his intact ear. 

  “I can not accept this.” 

“Use it, sweet girl whenever your—our people.” Tulmir smiled. “Are in deep need of a savior. And only then, understand?” Tulmir took a look around at the crowd that was building around her shop. “It appears we are not welcome here..but that the storm blew me here for a reason.” 

   “I understand, goodbye..Tulmir of Maryia.” Abria smiled and backed away to the rear wall. 

  As Tulmir pushed his way through the crowd, the people spat at him and cursed him. He could hear the clang of mail from the distance, no doubt coming to silence him. He reached the docks and when he did was confronted once more by Imperial guards. Two hardened looking men stood in his way, swords drawn. 

   “You will die a long way from home, elf.” The man standing to the right said with deep scorn and hatred. 

   They charged Tulmir at once. He parried two blows before taking a glancing strike to his left thigh. Pain shot through his leg but he ignored it as he cut through mail and flesh of one man, but did not fell him. They attempted to circle him and take his flanks. The man to his front darted at him and they began the dance once more. Steel sang as their swords banged against one another, when a sharp pain shot through Tulmir’s back. The second guard had taken his rear, and sliced him along his spine. He fell to his knees. The two men approached him from the front. 

  “Thunin…forgive me..” Tulmir whispered. As he was ready to accept his fate, the bright blue skies of the morning grew into dark, deep rolling storm clouds. 

  Both men backed away a few steps, their eyes on the sky above them. They looked back to Tulmir, and as they did a booming bolt of lightning struck the deck between the men, sending them and Tulmir in two different directions. It had set fire to the docks, and it was spreading rapidly. Tulmir gained his bearings slowly. Dazed, he got to his feet and turned to see half of the dock and the ships around it beginning to turn into an inferno. The wind blew the smoke in his direction toward the water and it singed his eyes. 

   “Elf!” Tulmir heard a shout from his left. “Quickly!” He looked to see an Elwen man in a tiny boat with a single twelve foot mast. 

  Tulmir did not think twice about it, and jumped into the boat. 

 “You will be spoken about for years to come, if I must say.” The strange man laughed through a red beard. 

   Tulmir turned and watched as the burning mast of a merchant ship collapsed onto its deck. “I dare say you are right friend.” And as quickly as Tulmir of Maryia came, he was gone once more. Leaving death, smoke and fire in his wake. In the eyes of men he would be deemed an omen, but in the small hearts of Elwen boys and girls, he will be spoken as a symbol and saint of hope, for generations to come.