Jelina and Ainnileas built a large funeral pyre and began to gather the dead. It was the only honor these dead could receive, their surviving family and friends having been dragged away to the north. They worked in silence, Ainnileas giving Jelina worried looks. The she-elf had remained quiet since she'd spoken of the Moldovans, but her face was unreadable. Together, they alighted the pyre. As the flames danced, Jelina sang an elven lament. The language of the elves was a flowing, musical language. Ainnileas had never heard it spoken, or sung, before. He was enchanted by the beauty of her native tongue. After she finished her song, Ainnileas stepped back a few paces as a sign of respect towards her and her loss. He settled next to a nearby house and leaned against the wall, watching her as she watched the funeral flames. Tristan sat next to her and leaned against her. She put her hand on the Wolfhound's head. She never had the chance to give her two companions the honor they deserved. They were perhaps still lying under the sky where they'd fallen. He wished they could have been able to go back and see that their bodies were cremated and their ashes spread honorably. He thought back on the stories he'd heard all his life. Watching Jelina, he wondered how his people could have been so wrong about hers. How could a people that took the same amount of care with their dead as his be barbarians? How could a people with such beautiful songs to honor their dead be savages? Would a human have reacted as she had upon seeing a village of their own people devastated by slavers? Jelina was no savage, wild barbarian. She was a person just as he was. She felt loss. She felt pain. He was sure she'd loved. He'd only known her for a short time and she was the only elf he knew but Ainnileas felt that her people were not evil beings that snatched children away from their beds or carried away people who traveled too close to the Wilds. Now he didn't think they were any different than humans. Being friends with an elf had changed his views about them dramatically. After the flames died, Jelina joined him against the wall. They sat for several minutes in silence.
"What now?" he finally asked, breaking the silence.
She looked him over. "I'm sure those bandages need changing and perhaps we find you a shirt that isn't bloodstained."
Ainnileas looked down. Jelina had mended the tears from the claws and the spear but hadn't been able to clean all of the blood from his shirt. It wouldn't be the best idea to return home bloodstained. He nodded.
~~~
They spent the night in the now abandoned village and left at morning's light with restocked provisions and Ainnileas a new shirt, along with a broadsword. Jelina looked for signs of the slavers and they traveled in silence for some time.
"Can I ask you a question? And I'll understand if you don't want to answer it."
Jelina swore the man was full of them. She nodded.
"Was that your village?"
"I only told you it was a village that was friendly with the Rangers, but no, it wasn't mine."
"Where is your village?"
"To the north."
"Do you miss your family?"
"Every time I think of them."
"Why did you leave the Wilds?"
"Why are you so intent on asking me personal questions?" She knew he would begin to notice eventually that she dodged every question he had about her past. And she had her reasons.
"You're a mystery, Jelina," he simply said. "I'm just trying to figure you out."
"Good luck with that."
He gave her a look. "You don't allow anyone to get to know you or close to you, do you?"
"All you need to know about me is I'm an elf and a Ranger. Nothing else matters."
"Don't you think—"
"My past is in the past and that is where it will stay. Where it belongs!" She shouldn't have snapped at him like that. He was the only human who had seen past the elf. And she knew he was only trying to make small talk. She rubbed her forehead and signed before turning back to face him. "I'm sorry, Ainnileas. I shouldn't —"
He cut her off. "No. I told you I would understand if you didn't want to answer a question."
She didn't think he did. In fact, she knew he didn't understand. And she wasn't going to explain it to him, either.
He sighed. "I know our people are not the best of friends and perhaps for good reason. We don't understand one another and no one bothers to try. I never thanked you for coming to our rescue, for saving my life twice, and for agreeing to escort me home. And I've found I trust you, whether or not I know your past." It was not something she had ever heard anyone outside of the Rangers say to her.
She smiled. "No one outside of the Rangers has ever told me that they trusted me."
"No one has ever bothered to try."
Jelina stopped and looked at him, surprised at his words. Ainnileas was a different type of man. He had a kind heart, the kind the Priests of Elohim teach about but she had never seen. But he was right. No one outside of the Rangers had bothered to attempt to get to know her like Ainnileas had. They only saw the elf. It would be a pity when they arrived at his village. They would part ways and they probably would never see each other again. But she'd have the knowledge that she'd have at least one friend outside of the Rangers. It was a comforting thought.