Chapter 9 - 8 Myrel Thalas
The firelight danced between the thick tree trunks, casting swaying shadows across the faces of two children sitting opposite each other. The scent of roasting venison filled the night air, blending with the soft forest breeze and the familiar chorus of eastern crickets.
Beri Huxlen, a Wood Elf boy with tangled blond hair and eyes sharp like a starving wildcat, was rotating a wooden skewer over the fire. His gaze never left the meat, now turning golden brown and sizzling with juicy fat that would make any stomach file a formal complaint for neglect.
"Who are you? And why is a kid like you wandering in this forest?" he asked suddenly, never taking his eyes off the fire like a seasoned chef guarding his life’s work.
Sylphia, sitting across from him with her knees hugged to her chest, gave a light sigh. The firelight flickered across her golden hair. She still looked like a kid, but her eyes carried the deadpan chill of someone who cared more about a fluttering blade of grass than the boy grilling meat in front of her.
"None of your business," she replied flatly.
Beri glanced at her but wasn’t offended. "Name’s Beri Huxlen of the Wood Elves," he said, tossing a few aromatic herbs onto the meat. The flames hissed in approval.
’Wood Elf?’ Sylphia thought, her brow lifting slightly. ’Didn’t Father mention that name before? Hmm... might be related. Gotta act cool, but I should gather info. Interrogate now, panic later.’
This time, she stared at him sharply. "Wood Elf? Do you know a place called Myrel Thalas?"
"That’s my home," Beri replied casually. He pulled the skewer from the fire and blew on it with a calmness that suggested he’d done this every day of his eight-year-old life. Then, with practiced hands, he cut the roasted venison in half and tossed one half to Sylphia.
"For you. You’re the one who froze it in the first place."
Sylphia caught it and gave a small smile. "Thanks."