It must have just been the close quarters, he told himself. Of course it would feel strange to sleep in a small space, after weeks of sleeping beneath the open sky. Of course that was all it was.
Chapter Ten
Korik
Breakfastthenextmorningwas an even larger spread, and this time the entire elven family sat with them in the parlor. There weren’t any chairs large enough for Korik, so he ended up perching awkwardly in an armchair with his plate balanced precariously on his knees. Still, it was better food than he’d had in weeks, even better than dinner the night before; he ate as much as he could of the various fresh fruits provided to them, along with pastries, eggs, bacon, sausages, and a decadent fruit tart that wouldn’t have been out of place on a dessert table at a feast.
One of the older sons—older than Korik expected considering how Varen had described a “gaggle” of children, though it was difficult to tell with elves—had been staring at him with wide eyes from the other side of the room for the first part of the meal. His expression wasn’t fearful, so Korik suspected he was just fascinated by seeing an orc in his parlor. Then the elf boy picked up what looked like a lute and performed to scattered applause, as everyone else finished their breakfast; he hovered near Korik, but still seemed unable to gather enough courage to speak to him.
Finally, Korik turned to the teenage elf and said, in as polite of a tone as he could manage, “You play very well.”
The boy lowered his head, stammering. “Oh, er, thank you, Mr.—Healer Korik.” He glanced up at Korik, curly hair flopped over his face. “I, um, I had meant to ask you how much of what they say in the songs about orcs are true, but I guess we won’t have enough time.”
Korik forced down a laugh. “Perhaps next time.”
The boy’s expression brightened. “Right. Next time.”
Packing was a quick affair, as Korik had only unpacked the necessities—not that there was much more than his bedroll and clothes now. They were given more food for the journey, mostly fruits and a few loaves of bread, and then they departed.
Varen had mentioned their group would be smaller, but Korik hadn’t realized that he meant it would be just Alwyn added to their original party as they set back out on the road. Enriel rode on her horse as always; Korik was now riding his orcish-bred horse; the other they had traded for two mules, which became mounts for Varen and Alwyn.
“Is it just the four of us, then?” he asked Varen quietly, as they passed through the estate gates. He nodded.
“The others plan to take a few extra days to rest. They’re headed elsewhere.”
“I see,” Korik said, and he could tell from the slight change in Varen’s expression that the elf understood his concern about Alwyn and shared it. But he said nothing, and they rode on in silence.
The next few days passed uneventfully. Alwyn kept to himself, speaking little to Varen or Enriel, and not at all to Korik, which he supposed was just as well. At least he wasn’t causing trouble.
The weather was growing steadily cooler now, enough so that Korik took the cloak that had served as extra bedding and draped it over himself for most of the day. Their surroundings became more forested, the grasses greener and more lush, as they traveled through woodland trails and verdant hills. He caught glimpses of a few more large estates, like the Trisfiel estate where they had rested, but none so close to the main road they traversed.
They passed more and more elves on the road, too—they would always seem to startle at seeing Korik, but would relax seeing the elves he traveled with. Occasionally, Varen would want to stop to chat with the passersby, asking for any news or updates from either the capital or Drol Kuggradh; but there had been nothing of note to report in the weeks that they’d been on the road.
As they turned more southwest into the heart of Aefraya, they encountered elves on the road more frequently; and the more they encountered, the less surprised they seemed at Korik’s presence. He had heard that a handful of orcs had made their way into Aefraya, mostly merchants setting up shop near the capital. He wondered how bold and enterprising these orcs must have been to go straight to the center of the land that they’d been at war with for so long, just for some gold; but he was here too, he supposed, and probably not making nearly as much coin for his trouble.
Finally, the capital city came into sight in the distance one afternoon; Korik did not realize what it was at first, but Varen pointed out to him the shape of the massive tree-temple and the spires of the castle rising behind it. Relief flooded Korik’s chest at the sight, knowing that now only the journey home remained—luckily without Alwyn’s silent, sullen presence. The relief was tempered a bit, though, remembering that Enriel would not be there either, only him and Varen. But this was where Enriel wanted to be, and he was glad to see her arrive safely at her destination.
By the time they reached the city gates, the sun was beginning to set, bathing the landscape in a golden light. The walls were constructed of a pearly white stone. Korik could see all sorts of trees and greenery shading the buildings on the hillside beyond; they were made of either stone or warm wood, and lined the path up to the castle at the peak.
He had imagined what acitymight look like—how different it might be from Drol Kuggradh—but his imagination paled in comparison to the real thing. They had passed through various elven villages and seen other estates as they traveled, but they weren’t like this. The way the paths cut so neatly through the city and up to the castle, creating an even grid all the way around; the cohesive colors and sizes of the buildings; and the way the trees and plants had been situated so that the city looked as if it had grown naturally along with the forest. It all struck Korik, who wondered at how much meticulous planning would have to go into something like this, all the coordinated effort of so many elves working together to create something so...precise.
Drol Kuggradh was nothing like it, what with its wide expanses of open space for tents; and so few of its buildings being permanent structures, all made of mismatched materials, creating meandering paths within the stone walls of the city that had been moved and expanded, over and over again. And he had heard about human cities, too: how they were often even bigger, more tightly packed. He couldn’t picture anything larger than this.
Enriel must have noticed him staring as they waited, while Varen spoke with the guard standing at the wall.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she chuckled, leaning closer to him to speak in a conspiratorial tone. “What do you think?”
“It is certainly... impressive,” Korik replied, nodding. “I have never seen anything like it.”
She followed his gaze up toward the castle where it perched on the hill. That one building alone must have taken just as much careful planning and coordination as the entire city below, Korik thought. Part of him wondered how they had the time to do something so meticulous, but he supposed that was an advantage of having such a long lifespan.
“Honestly, I don’t think there are any cities like it, even other elven cities,” she agreed, hiding a smile behind her hand. “I mean, I have a soft spot for our home town, but it’s just a little village, and objectively...”
“Alright, we’re all clear,” Varen said, interrupting them. He motioned for them to draw closer, and the guard nodded, gesturing for them to pass through the gate. The elf’s eyes lingered on Korik for a beat longer than the others, but the guard said nothing as their horses trotted past.
“I must report to the castle,” Alwyn said primly, as they passed through the gate.
“As must I,” Varen said, keeping pace with him. “Enriel, why don’t you take Korik to our lodgings, and I’ll join you both once I’ve checked in?”
