Sarphlies, The Sister of Wrath

𝐼𝐼𝐼. Leaf

Sarphlies felt her skin prickle with the rage that she felt. The windsoul that had spent nearly two months with her, festering in the wild animals she hunted, sleeping in the same room as her, was in fact revealed to be something she would never expect. Dishonest. She felt distrusted, she felt wronged. She felt as all things she had learnt from Gale were things she should have never allowed herself to learn, the art of persuasion, the art of murder perhaps. Gale was extremely skilled with the blades. And carried two of them.

But then she remembered, Gale led her to a town of elves, fey and humans. She led her to a place where she could get closer to her true shape, to the blessing she so desperately wished for. She led her to a place of worship of Seldarine. And where there is elven magic, there is Corellon Larethian. So why, why was she so quick to let it all go to lose?

The thoughts plagued her mind, and the thudding around of her luggage made the clay tray sound once in impact with the carriage. It was then that Sarphlies realized that she was aimlessly wandering in the plaza.

In the far distance, a ship docked on the mouth of the river Glialus unloaded barrels and crates, many men, elven and human alike, did the hard work. Then, Sarphlies noticed halflings and even stranger creatures like lion-men bring ashore all sorts of things. The cargo was being unloaded slowly, and although fairies were among the helpers, she noticed none were using flight. In fact, Sarphlies had not seen flight apart from the fairy from earlier. It was a curious thing to her, and Sarphlies fixated on the ship. The crew rushed throughout the extension of the ship. It seemed large to her, and the men seemed like ants near a tiny toy she could pinch between her fingers. She was about to do so when a man's voice was heard.

"Younging, what do you carry on your cart?" The voice asked. Startled, Sarphlies turned around. And she realized it was a woodworker shop but she did not see anyone. "Down here. Is that purpleheart? I have not seen any of it in decades!"

"Sorry." Sarphlies looked down and realized immediately that it was a halfling, one that seemed to have been overrun by time. No wonder she did not see the poor man, she might as well have been twice the height. "I hunted a beast, I came in hopes to sell it. It is a male catoblepas, I pierced its neck with a spear and I brought the head. If you want to see."

"Oh, yes! Show me, please!" The halfling adjusted his glasses, he seemed to be quite old. However, he seemed young at heart, rather kind and curious even. She felt at peace in his presence. "Word spread that there were hunters in town showcasing their hunt, and I would like to see, yes! Please, follow me to my workshop."

Like she was asked, she followed. When looking around, she realized she was no longer in the part of Leyglisburne where there were food stands and nomad vendors. Here, she saw shops, with tents assembled ahead of the shops themselves, here and there. The halfling man had one of those tents, one coated by a white sailcloth and where samples of wood were displayed, tightly encased in a glass display, ridged in well varnished wood. It was mesmerizing to look at, the pristine cuttings.

"So, I would like to make a deal with you. What is it I can call you?" The halfling shot.

"Sarphlies is my name, the huntress of the catoblepas."

"Very well, huntress." The halfling approached the cart and kneeled, to gently knock with his fingers on the wooden planks and the poorly cut round slices of purpleheart. He knocked and heard the sound that the wood made, evaluating its consistency by the sound it produced. "I will buy the purpleheart wood your cart has, it is a waste for it to get worn out as wheels, specially because the cart is quite heavy as it is. And the catoblepas' head. And I will still remake your cart anew with a new type of wood that is just as sturdy. If you desire, mahogany like the rest, but I advise other woods. Rosewood is good."