Lzopia

Dylan Hynes

Walking about her people who settled in the darkest part of the Labyrinth Forest which would be the place closest to Black City. Dylan was just starting her terrible day like every other. Family, wasn't the word Dark Elves used to refer to each other. . . fellow evildoers was the most common words used to speak of each other. Dylan hated her 'fellow evildoers' and they hated her. Everyone knows about Dark Elf egocentric problems and stuff, but not only do they feel superior to others but also between each other, they are always fighting and trying to surpass each other. Team work is not something you'll find around Dark Elves.
Since Dylan was different from them, she was persecuted the most, her mother was also an award winning bitch and let's not even talk about elves her age. Dylan, being half Dark Elf half Wood Elf was look down on (it's nothing new coming from her people), and because of how her people were she grew to hate them and also to use their ways and the ways of the wood elves to become better.

She never stayed long around her people she would venture further into the forest and meet up with some wood elves that taught her many things, taught her their magic that she would try and merge with the powerful magic of dark elves. Her wood elf friends wouldn't stay too long though because they feared Dylan's mother who killed her father a few years ago because he was meeting up with Dylan. When her friends would leave she would just try and practice on her own and make her way through the forest just like her father had taught her how to.
"You may enter the city of coarse, I hope you find what you are looking for and use your knowledge to help rebuild this world," Dylan stopped when she heard the voice.
She had been walking closer to Black City that she had thought. The huge ugly city she knew nothing of except for the rumors of how it spread the plague around. She noticed a tall man dressed in black, she felt something horrible coming from him, she felt like her was bad news . . . dead bad news. Now that Dylan thought about it, she didn't know much about the world, about other people or about the city. Maybe it was disgustingly ugly from the outside, but what was it like inside? . . .

The soft candlelight flickered against the text of the open tome that lay on the table. Nestro softly leafed through the book to the next page and continued reading. His vision swiped back an forth slowly, his mind more tasting the information than consuming it. Which was how this particular book was meant to be read. Not for information or complete understanding, but reflection and with the context of one’s own thoughts and opinions. Creating a calming and introspective feeling, it was, in a sense, more like meditation than reading. Which was why when he heard a particularly loud and boisterous noise erupted from elsewhere in the inn, he found himself unable to continue.

Slowly closing the tome, he softly said the phrase that engaged it’s magical locking mechanism. He ran his gloved hand over the cover, not feeling the pressure because his nerves no longer worked, but he gained a pleasant mental stimulation from the exercise. When he finished he set the book off to the side of the table and turned his mind to the events of the last week.

Days spent in the bustling market districts of the city, searching nearly randomly for any clue that might lead him to ancient material, writing or otherwise. In the markets, he had seen many mysterious and wonderful oddities that he had never so much as heard of before. However, he hadn’t found so much as an inkling toward his goal. The young lich was not particularly impatient, but he was increasingly aware of the daily rental cost of his room. He was afraid that if he did happen to spy an object in the market that looked promising, he might not have the funds to pay for it.

He closed off his vision, retreating to a soft blackness that often helped him think. He liked the privacy of his own room. Where he could lock the door and remove his helmet and read easily as he had just done, but it could not continue like this for much longer. He decided that if he did not find anything of promise tomorrow, he would leave the in and spend the night somewhere that did not require a fee. As soon as he had made the personal oath, he hoped that he would not have to follow through with the plan.

He opened his vision, turning his head to scan the room that he currently rented. It was simple, having a sort of humbleness that came with only bearing the necessities. He liked it, it reminded him of his quarters in the hermitage. He sighed yet again. It had been mere months sense he had left and yet he already felt homesick of the place. He wondered how Neverick was doing, if he had finished the tome that he had been working on when Nestro had left. He wondered what advice Neverick might have if he could ask the old lich what he should do about his predicament.

Nestro shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thoughts. He was a full Lifebringer now, he had a mission that would keep him from the hermitage far more than it would lead him there. It might even be hundreds of years until he saw his old master again, if he ever did. As he drew his thoughts away from the nostalgic thoughts, an idea appeared in his head. Asking for advice! That’s perfect! he thought as he grabbed his helmet and stuffed it on his head.

He stood up from the table, and made his way toward the door. He knew very little of anything about Black City. Perhaps if he asked some of the locals about it he would find a better direction. He laughed internally at himself for not thinking of this sooner. Wandering around the markets like a lost dog. How silly could I be. He unlatched the door, grabbing a key off of a short dresser near the entrance and slipping it into a pocket on the inside of his cloak. He didn’t want anyone digging through his belongings, as he had left all but his outfit in the room. The Lifebringer tome was magically sealed, but it would be bad if someone found out that he had a satchel full of bones. That would be rather difficult to explain.

Locking the door behind him, he decided to leave the hood down off of his helmet. He didn’t want to appear too guarded, especially since he would soon have be starting some conversations.