The sun glares down on me as my shoulders smash against the wall. I feel everything judging me, even the few clouds in the sky, as I lie on the ground. “Freak! We all know you’re not human. Why don’t you just disappear like the elven scum you are?” Voices cram their way through my pointed ears and straight to my heart. The shadows of people I never knew cloud out the sky.
Someone smashes the contents of my bag to the ground and shouts, “Have you come to muddle the hierarchy we’ve achieved?”
I choke back tears as I witness my newest inventions being mangled and crushed by a human’s fit of anger. A large girl lands a swift kick to my ribs. Looking up at her, I see that the girl doesn’t look mad or menacing like I anticipated. Her face is stern but her eyes look anxious. Her arm is sloppily wrapped in silk cloths, leaving shards of metal and wires peeking through. I gape at the little glimpses of machinery I can see. She pauses, probably realizing that I’ve just been staring at her.
With her mechanical arm, she hoists me effortlessly over her shoulder and leaves the crowd of people.
“Wow. She’s gonna get it.”
“She must be in a bad mood today. I almost feel bad for that elf.”
People mutter under their breath, forgetting about my elven hearing as the girl turns the corner. I squirm trying to study her arm, but her grip is so tight that I can’t move. My face tangles in her ginger hair. She finally stops and sets me down. She takes a step back and slaps me hard across the face with her normal hand. “What the hell were you thinking?! You know what will happen if you don’t hide your ears! Wait here.”
“I’m very sorry,” I mumble, clutching my cheek. She grumbles about how much of a nuisance elves are, and opens a door to a tall building. She waltzes up to a desk at the center of the room as if she owns the entire lobby, and starts up a conversation with the clerk. I stand at the doorway, nursing my cheek as she casually chats. The minutes I wait there turn to hours.
The clerk shuffles over to me and pushes me through a door. He speaks really quickly about the building and its residents as he escorts me up the velvety stairs. “Your room is to the left.” He places a key in my palm and vanishes like the night. I gaze down at my hand and to the steampunk door before me. I slide the card into the door and a small light blinks green. I push the door open and step timidly into a miniature palace. Everything glimmers and radiates the colors of the sunset. Without giving it another thought, I dash over and plunge into a bed in the corner of the room and into sleep.
I open my eyes, groggily wondering if I’m still dreaming. The sun peeks through silky curtains, illuminating the royal chambers I’ve slept in. Sitting up is still painful after the bruising I received, so I lie in bed until a loud knock on the door makes me jump.
“Hey . . . I’m sorry I overdid it yesterday . . .” I hear through the door. The girl is back.
“I can’t sit up. Are you still mad at me?” I ask.
“No. I never was. May I come in?”
“Wha-”
I quickly smooth my hair to one side and try to sit up again before sharp stabs in my rib cage force me to lie back down. She cautiously opens the door and pokes her head in. Her eyes seem perkier than the last time I saw her. “This is good. Just stay right there,” she calls.
She extends her hands, and mumbles words under her breath. The world around her bends towards her hands. Is she using enchantments? With most creatures magic is supplied by the heart, so when used, it glows in your hands. Humans never could use magic like that. My ribs feel like they’re knitting together all of the bruises and sores.
The girl sighs heavily and checks to see how well she did. She approaches and asks how I feel. I sit up and scoot over, in case she’s dizzy and wants to lie down. She doesn’t. Instead the girl sits beside me and smiles sheepishly at me. Her hair glows golden in the slivers of sun illuminating my room.
I smile at her, still taking precautions not to get hit again. Humans are unpredictable and act on a whim, whatever suits them at the moment. The girl scoots closer and starts interrogating me. “Yesterday, why didn’t you use magic? Wait, is it taboo to use magic in the presence of a human, or . . . ?”
I cough, trying to come up with a good cover-up. When I can’t come up with a convincing story, I admit, “I’ve never been able to wield magic. Enchantments have never been . . . my cup of tea.”
“Wait . . . then what do you do? How have you not been killed or eaten or whatever the royal family does to non-enchanters?”
“I make gadgets . . .” I mumble. She smirks and tries to contain her laughter, her shoulders shaking. “An elven inventor?”
“I wanted to investigate more technology so I could improve on my — wait, please hold out your arm.” I try to calm myself as she unwraps the silky bandage covering her arm. Her left arm is encased in smooth metal plating and tangled wires. It’s hastily slapped together, but it works so efficiently.
I fidget with her arm and realize how quiet the room is. I frantically try to start a conversation to ease the tension. “So you were using magic, huh? Are you an enchantress?”
“Nope. I’m a boring old human. I don’t carry magic in my heart.”
“Wait . . . but you used magic beforehand on me . . . ?”
“I tapped into your magic.”
Someone smashes the contents of my bag to the ground and shouts, “Have you come to muddle the hierarchy we’ve achieved?”
I choke back tears as I witness my newest inventions being mangled and crushed by a human’s fit of anger. A large girl lands a swift kick to my ribs. Looking up at her, I see that the girl doesn’t look mad or menacing like I anticipated. Her face is stern but her eyes look anxious. Her arm is sloppily wrapped in silk cloths, leaving shards of metal and wires peeking through. I gape at the little glimpses of machinery I can see. She pauses, probably realizing that I’ve just been staring at her.
With her mechanical arm, she hoists me effortlessly over her shoulder and leaves the crowd of people.
“Wow. She’s gonna get it.”
“She must be in a bad mood today. I almost feel bad for that elf.”
People mutter under their breath, forgetting about my elven hearing as the girl turns the corner. I squirm trying to study her arm, but her grip is so tight that I can’t move. My face tangles in her ginger hair. She finally stops and sets me down. She takes a step back and slaps me hard across the face with her normal hand. “What the hell were you thinking?! You know what will happen if you don’t hide your ears! Wait here.”
“I’m very sorry,” I mumble, clutching my cheek. She grumbles about how much of a nuisance elves are, and opens a door to a tall building. She waltzes up to a desk at the center of the room as if she owns the entire lobby, and starts up a conversation with the clerk. I stand at the doorway, nursing my cheek as she casually chats. The minutes I wait there turn to hours.
The clerk shuffles over to me and pushes me through a door. He speaks really quickly about the building and its residents as he escorts me up the velvety stairs. “Your room is to the left.” He places a key in my palm and vanishes like the night. I gaze down at my hand and to the steampunk door before me. I slide the card into the door and a small light blinks green. I push the door open and step timidly into a miniature palace. Everything glimmers and radiates the colors of the sunset. Without giving it another thought, I dash over and plunge into a bed in the corner of the room and into sleep.
I open my eyes, groggily wondering if I’m still dreaming. The sun peeks through silky curtains, illuminating the royal chambers I’ve slept in. Sitting up is still painful after the bruising I received, so I lie in bed until a loud knock on the door makes me jump.
“Hey . . . I’m sorry I overdid it yesterday . . .” I hear through the door. The girl is back.
“I can’t sit up. Are you still mad at me?” I ask.
“No. I never was. May I come in?”
“Wha-”
I quickly smooth my hair to one side and try to sit up again before sharp stabs in my rib cage force me to lie back down. She cautiously opens the door and pokes her head in. Her eyes seem perkier than the last time I saw her. “This is good. Just stay right there,” she calls.
She extends her hands, and mumbles words under her breath. The world around her bends towards her hands. Is she using enchantments? With most creatures magic is supplied by the heart, so when used, it glows in your hands. Humans never could use magic like that. My ribs feel like they’re knitting together all of the bruises and sores.
The girl sighs heavily and checks to see how well she did. She approaches and asks how I feel. I sit up and scoot over, in case she’s dizzy and wants to lie down. She doesn’t. Instead the girl sits beside me and smiles sheepishly at me. Her hair glows golden in the slivers of sun illuminating my room.
I smile at her, still taking precautions not to get hit again. Humans are unpredictable and act on a whim, whatever suits them at the moment. The girl scoots closer and starts interrogating me. “Yesterday, why didn’t you use magic? Wait, is it taboo to use magic in the presence of a human, or . . . ?”
I cough, trying to come up with a good cover-up. When I can’t come up with a convincing story, I admit, “I’ve never been able to wield magic. Enchantments have never been . . . my cup of tea.”
“Wait . . . then what do you do? How have you not been killed or eaten or whatever the royal family does to non-enchanters?”
“I make gadgets . . .” I mumble. She smirks and tries to contain her laughter, her shoulders shaking. “An elven inventor?”
“I wanted to investigate more technology so I could improve on my — wait, please hold out your arm.” I try to calm myself as she unwraps the silky bandage covering her arm. Her left arm is encased in smooth metal plating and tangled wires. It’s hastily slapped together, but it works so efficiently.
I fidget with her arm and realize how quiet the room is. I frantically try to start a conversation to ease the tension. “So you were using magic, huh? Are you an enchantress?”
“Nope. I’m a boring old human. I don’t carry magic in my heart.”
“Wait . . . but you used magic beforehand on me . . . ?”
“I tapped into your magic.”