TW: Bullying, Swearing, Asshole Government, Violence, Kinda Racist towards Humans, Throw up
Y/N- Your Name
L/N- Your Last Name/Surname
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I fly across the alley and into several metal trash bins. My back crashes against them, pain sparks in my lower back immediately. I feel tears prick my eyes.
"Pftt," One of the three boys that looked down on me scoffed, "That's what you get."
I don't ignore the boys. My attention is focused on a torn up satchel I hold tightly to my body.
The boy's eyes flick from me, then to my satchel. I hold my breath as the boy flicks his head towards me. A silent command to his younger brothers. Both of them step forward and attempt to rip the bag away from me. They both tightly hold onto my bag, the contents shaking inside when we fight over it.
My grip starts to slip and my panic increases. In an unplanned attempt to seize my bag, I accidentally elbowed the youngest boy and pushed the middle child back into his older brother. It was unexpected to everyone. Chaos filled that alley way as I took the opportunity to run.
The boys chase after me while yelling several curses and screaming at me. The curses fell upon deaf ears as I focused on weaving through the busy streets. The bustling street combined with my adrenaline to create a blur of the senses that were equally sharp yet dulled all at once.
In a sudden breeze, blue Magick wished through the air and straight onto the ground. A sheet of ice covered the road suddenly. I flew up into the air along with the three boys. A tangled mess pursued as we fought over my bag like a pack of starving feral dogs. The ice Magick weilder hastily stumbled towards us to pull us apart.
I looked up to glaring grey eyes. They were paired with crossed, brushy eyebrows the same color. I was in trouble before, but now I could feel it in my stomach too. Mr. Taleme, my guardian and ice Magick weilder, was usually dissapointed, not angry. This time, the tides have changed in his expression and deep glare, one I have never seen before, but knew the exact emotions that created that glare.
The boys scattered as soon as they could to get away from Mr. Taleme's presence. He is a tall man, even in elf standards, exceeding six feet by what felt like a mile. His already intimidating height is made even more startling by his muscular stature that was built in his boxing glory days before he became a baker, but all the baked foods also covered him in a good layer of fat. Still, Mr. Taleme is terrifying when you don't know him, or even if you do.
Mr. Taleme turned from me to the boys and then back to me. His looked softened a bit with a sigh, but he quickly turned stern again when he saw the guilt on my face. Mr. Taleme scolded the crowd that formed around us before huffing at me. He throw me over his shoulder, carrying me into the bakery and closing it early to really drill me on the previous events.
Mr. Taleme set me down, crossed his arms, and gave me a serious look. Suddenly, I feel the adrenaline leave. Now my body isn't numb and I can feel it, a lot. I slump to relieve my back pain, "I know you are upset, but can I sit down?"
Mr. Taleme gives me a sigh before waving me off with his hand, "Go in my office. I need to think for a second."
I scurry off to the back room where the stairs are and up to Mr. Taleme's office in relief. I sit down in the tall leather seat, sinking into it in relaxment. My back feels a million times better already, but i could still use some of the medical supplies that are kept in the kitchen. I don’t get medical kits, yet. Not until Mr. Taleme comes back. As replacement for treatment, I stare at my wounds. I observe the holes in my new pants and scrapes behind them. The dirt on the palms of my hands rolls together before falling to the oak floors. I idolly watch over the dirt to pass the time.
I hear Mr. Taleme climb up the stairs, so I jump up to sit properly in my chair. He walks into his office and a look of pity spreads over his face. He drops a bread roll and a sack of medical supplies in front of me on his desk. He gently hands me my bag and then sits down in front of me. I get ready for my interrogation.
"How many and where?" Mr. Olsen refers to my wounds. He doesn't have to be specific for me to know what he means. This happens a lot.
I recount the number in my head before answering. "Four. Two scrapes on my knees and hands, one black eye, and a bad one on my back."
"Same kids or different kids from last time?"
"Same."
"Where did it happen, why?"
"In the alleyway behind the Cafe. They cornered me because I'm a half-elf, like last time. They chased me because they want my bag."
"What is in the bag? Did you steal, Y/N?"
I scoff, "No, I don't steal. It's my experiments and notes."
Mr. Olsen pinches his nose and groans. "Damn kids. When will they learn? They know they can't bully other elf kids, so they go after the one that doesn't have magic. Of course!"
I was born to a human mother and elf father, but despite my elf heritage, I can't do normal magic like they can. I have all the other traits of an elf, like pointy ears and book smart intelligence, but the one trait I didn't inherite was the most important one. And because I live in an all elf nation, I get bullied, a lot. I was even almost kicked out because some elves believed that because I wasn't full elf, I couldn't live in an exclusive elf country. Elves are really stuck up. Ever since my dad showed me his runes when I was seven, a year before they died, I've been working on ways to replicate magic for someone like me: a non-magical being. Not only have I made a liquid I can manipulate with my brain waves, I made a potion that can create armor around you, and a instant freeze potion.
"What were you even doing in that part of town anyways?" Mr. Olsen's question made me gulp. I know I'm not supposed to be passed the Café, but I went far beyond that boundary. I just managed to be stuck behind it while those dip-shits beat me up.
"I- uh, well-"
Mr. Olsen stood taller waiting for an answer.
I fet too nervous and words fall out of my mouth: "I talked to another scientist about my discoveries! He is my age and he found out about my work through a network of other young scientist with the similar objectives!"
Mr. Olsen gets furious. His voice booms through what felt like the entire building while he scolded me. "Do you know how reckless that was?! What if-"
Loud banging on the store door interrupts the conversation. "We're closed!" Mr. Olsen yells at the door.
The banging continues.
Mr. Olsen gives me a death stare, "Dress your wounds and eat. I'll be back."
He leaves and I stare at my bag and at the medic stuff. I pour everything out of the burlap bag that holds all our makeshift medical supplies like old cloth for bandages and really strong whiskey for disinfectant. I pull a cotton ball out of the pile and pour whiskey on it. I clean one knee, then get a new cotton swab, then clean the other one. I do the same thing for my palms, then it's the hard part. I dress a new cottonswab and lightly dab the whiskey around my eye. I make sure not to get the alcohol in my eye.
I start to wrap a bandage over my eye. I am extremely gentle in order to feel less pain than I already do.
"What's the issue, here?"
Mr. Olsen's voice makes my ears twitch back to life. I quietly tune into the conversation, still wrapping my wounds.
A man, not Mr. Olsen, scoffed. "That mutt of yours has been getting many complaints, and this is the last straw. Y/N L/N is getting evicted. Get their stuff and we will get the rest situated."
I sit up so fast, my back sends shocks up to my neck. I would care about the pain, but I the pit in my stomach is much more painful.
"Woah, what did Y/N do? Last time I checked, those kids were bullying Y/N."
A someone shifts and there is a squeak in the floor boards. A woman speaks this time, she sounds like she is reading off a script, "Stealing-" That was years ago. "Assault-" It was actually self-defense. They hurt me more than I hurt them. "Resistancing police, vandalism-" It was an accident. "Endangerment of Elven Children, and most recently: Replication of Magic."
"No, no. Those accusations are not even facing the real facts. I want to go to court. Only two of those "crimes" are true. This society makes everything harder on Y/N just because they are a half." Mr. Olsen tries to reason, but of course, the cops won't let up.
"If you don't want them to leave, you can go with your mutt, but they are not staying in this country any longer. Make your decision quickly, the others are waiting outside."
I start to breathe heavily at the realization. It doesn't matter if I go to court or not, these assholes want me out. I begin to quickly stuff all my experiments and equipment in a bag and put that in another bag. I get my clothes and put most of those in the same one. I grab an extra pair of shoes and hold the bread in my mouth. I eye a peice of paper and a pen on Mr. Olsen's desk. I write down the things I believe will keep him out of trouble and I send him my regards before I leave. The note reads: I'm sorry, but I have to leave. Those guards and this country can kiss my ass. I do appreciate everything you've done for me, but it's time I leave.
I'm sorry- Y/N.
I sneak out of my window and immediately regret everything. I hate heights, yet here I am. I carefully inch my feet across the gutter of the house. I quickly reach the end, my heart trys to jump out of my chest.
I hear stomping up the stairs in the house and a distressed noise when they don't find me in there. I make up my mind and fast, I jump to the other house and run for it, just like I did only 30 minutes before.
This is the last time I go to Nymalon: The Elven Paradise. Yeah.. right, paradise.