Kellen knew a little about Elves from his studies in the City—though, just as with unicorns, when he came to think about it straight on, he didn't know much. And most of that was from wondertales.
Fiction. Probably not a reliable source.
Not that anything he'd learned in Armethalieh—he was coming to suspect—was very reliable.
So what had he learned from his lessons?
He thought carefully. Not much there, either.
What he did know that might be considered potentially reliable came not from his schoolbooks and histories, but from his religious instruction in the Temple when he was much younger. Elves were one of the Non-human Races strictly banned from City lands. Occasional Elven trade goods did still arrive in Armethalieh, by way of the Mountain Traders, though their price was beyond the reach of all but the wealthiest of the Mageborn. Elves lived for a very long time, maybe forever, in forests far to the west. They didn't have any particular magical abilities—not like human Mages—but they were enchantingly beautiful, and if a human ever saw one, the Elf would use that supernatural beauty to lure him to his doom, because, like all the Nonhuman Races, they were essentially inferior and corrupt, poor copies of humanity allowed to exist by the Eternal Light for instructional purposes.
Only they didn't seem to have lured Idalia much of anywhere, now that Kellen came to think of it. And if the doctrines of the Eternal Light were as false as the rest of the teachings of the Mages, then Kellen thought he'd better consider the rest of what he'd been taught pretty carefully before trusting—or acting on—any of it.
'Here you are.'
Kellen looked up as Idalia returned with a sack and a small iron pot. 'Emya roots. They need to be peeled for stew. When you're done peeling them, take them down to the spring and wash them, then fill the pot with water and bring it up to the cabin. I've got some other chores to do, but this should keep you busy and out of trouble. There's bread and apples inside if you get hungry, and—try not to injure yourself too badly at this chore while I'm gone, brother mine. And remember, a little work is going to help you recover faster.'
With that she walked off, leaving Kellen staring down at a knife— his own penknife, as a matter of fact—an iron pot, and a burlap sack half full of lumpy brown roots.
They were going to eat these?
He picked one up and inspected it dubiously.
'Good eating, those.'
Shalkan appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, reached over Kellen's shoulder, and plucked the root delicately out of Kellen's hand.
'Mmm… crunchy,' the unicorn observed, mouth full.
'Hey! I'm supposed to be peeling those for dinner,' Kellen objected.
'Then I suggest you get started,' Shalkan said imperturbably, mouth still full.
Kellen looked around. Idalia was nowhere to be seen. He sighed and reached for another root, watching Shalkan out of the corner of his eye lest the unicorn steal this one, too.
Shalkan looked perfectly healthy. Idalia hadn't said anything about healing him; either she hadn't needed to, or she hadn't felt it was worth commenting on.
'I'm glad you're okay,' Kellen said, feeling awkward. 'You… are okay, aren't you?'
The unicorn, mouth still full, let Kellen's question pass without comment.
I guess that's a 'yes,' Kellen decided, and bent his head to the task at hand.
He quickly realized what Idalia had meant by her parting comment. The brown exterior of the root was slippery and tough, hard to cut into. It was going to be quite easy to cut himself while peeling these things if he wasn't careful. The interior was waxy and white, smelling faintly of apples and onions. Kellen supposed that cooking would improve it.
'So,' Shalkan asked when he'd finished chewing. 'Is freedom everything you hoped it would be?'
'It's different,' Kellen said, hoping he didn't sound too grudging about things. Shalkan's continued presence in his life was another thing he wondered about. It was all very well to assume that the unicorn was here to make sure that Kellen kept his half of the magical bargain he'd made, but surely Shalkan had other ways of knowing that, even from a distance? Was there another reason that Shalkan was sticking so close by—and was there even the faintest possible hope that Shalkan might tell him what that was if Kellen asked him directly?
