“What in the name of the Mother Tree are you wearing?” the voice of Aladrim rang out as she neared the treetop village where she was born 87 years ago.

Allyria didn’t answer, but continued her way home instead. This apparently infuriated the blonde watcher, since he chose to demonstratively stand in her way, looking all kinds of menacing. As she tied to push past him he grabbed her cuirass, looking at it like it was made of bird excrement.

“Metal? You’re wearing metal? Where are your clothes?”

“Burnt.” Allyria said without looking at him, then pulled loose of his grip and walked on.

“What happened?” Aladrim suddenly sounded worried.

“I happened.” She mumbled as she walked away.

He let her.

Coming back home the darkness swallowed her whole. Her mind kept screaming at her. ‘You killed him, you killed your only friend, his wife is lost now, his children will have nothing to eat, his family will die, it is all your fault, no one will ever be kind to you as he was and you killed him, you should die, you are worthless, you are less then worthless, you are fire, you are no elf, you are no human, you are nothing, evil, fire, burn, BURN, BURN!!!’

Allyria got up from the bed, trying to block the screaming in her head and went out to see Fernir. Fernir was a cunt and a drunk, but at least he’d have something to dull her head for now.

“What can I do you for at this hour?” The voice of Fernir rang from the inside of his cabin. He sounded drunk already. Allyria decided that the decent thing to do was to just leave him be and go back home, but her mind kept screaming BURN DIE BURN KILL over and over again, so whatever.

“I need a drink!” Allyria managed.

“Is this Sylvalla?”

“No it’s Allyria, open the door, by the Mother Tree please!”

“Oh.”

The door opened. The slightly swaying figure of Fernir stood there looking at her figure for almost ten full seconds. Only then did he nod and make way to let her in.

“So… you wanna drink, huh?”

“Yes I do and I can tell you’ve already had enough, so tell me what do you want for one bottle of your chelespai?”

“Chelespai? Thah! I can do better. Here, have a taste of this! Drisury mushrooms, flednas flower, hop and chrioten essence. All stewed for a year. Very good, special occasion good. You want it, I have it.”

He took the cork out of a large bottle, Allyria smelled it. It smelled nice.

“Ok, I’ll take it. What do you want?”

“Your company. We shall drink this together.”

“I’d rather drink it by myself.”

“Nah-uh! I want to conquer your heart while you drink.”

“That’s exactly why I want to drink it by myself.” Allyria knew that Fernir had a thing for her. It wasn’t mutual, and the only reason she came here was because of the booze. She needed something to dull her senses and out of everyone in the treetop village, Fernir was the only one she was sure to succeed with. It was a little selfish, but fuck it – she was a harpy and a murderer already.

“Please Allyria, you’ve had my heart for 29 years now. Please for once stay… I’m not going to let this bottle out of my chamber so your choice: booze or solitude?”

Fair enough. Allyria sat down on a branch, took the bottle and downed as much as she could take in one go. It burnt her throat and made a mess of her internal organs. What was this nonsense? She took another swig, eliciting the same bodily reaction. Well, it was supposed to make you happy, right? So where was the bloody happiness? She downed the bottle and looked at Fernir.

Fernir was just staring at her.

“Well? Where’s the jolly happy festivities thing then?” she screamed at him.

Then it hit her.

A blur faded over everything and all the pain was swept away. The cabin looked slightly askew, and Fernir suddenly had a weird thing going on in his face where his eyes wouldn’t stay in the same spot.

“Why are you all blurry?” Allyria asked.

Fernir got up and sat down next to her, wrapping one arm around her.

“Hey, are you okay?” a voice near her ear said.

“No,” she answered, then let the word hit her and changed her mind. “I’m okay. Fine. You should just uhm… leave me be.”

“I won’t,” he said. “I love you Allyria, I’ve loved you for many years now. I’m not going anywhere.”

Allyria got up and a woozy feeling caught her straight in the head. She swayed but straightened herself again.

“You love this?” she said, flicking a ball of fire into the air.

“What?” he sounded slightly alarmed. It was funny. Allyria proceeded to flick tiny flames in the air, then bending them together in a circle around her face. The elf looked scared, but good scared. Allyria moved the ring of fire around her head, then down over her body. She lifted one leg after the other, carefully moulding the fire to allow her legs to step out of the circle. Then she lifted the burning ring to her face again, shrunk it and put it into her mouth. Tsss, it went. And Allyria breathed out smoke like a dragon. Right in the guy’s face. Ha!

Fernir looked concerned and in awe at the same time. “This is not good.” He said, panting. “Please stop doing the fire things.”

“You sound like Ellendril!” Allyria snapped, making small flames appear from all five fingers of her right hand.

“Allyria, my love, this is not okay. We’re wood elves, use your mana for growth and healing, please don’t do this, it’s horrifying!”

“Well if you truly love me so much, why do you say my powers are horrifying? Yeah they kill, yeah they BURN, everything must go, I am death, I am destruction, I am evil. I know that, but YOU! You say you love me, well I challenge that! Do you really? Love the real me? With the fire, the burn, the destruction?”

And with that, Fernir kissed her.

It was Allyria’s first kiss. That wasn’t abnormal though, not with elves. Being very long-lived and extremely monogamous, most elves didn’t have their first kiss until they were at least a hundred years old. Also, most of them kept dating for years until they finally got married. Allyria’s older brother had dated his husband for 56 years before they finally ‘did it’. No problem in taking it slow if you’re gonna spend eternity together.

In all the years Fernir had been courting Allyria, she had never found him alluring. Fernir was a nice guy, albeit a bit preoccupied by his bad habit of making booze. It wasn’t something elves do. Well… not the booze Fernir made. But in festivities, like summer solstice, a lot of people were quite grateful for his contributions anyway.

This was the first time Allyria had one of Fernir’s drinks. This was the first time she had been kissed. This was also the first time she had set an entire Elven village on fire.

Needless to say, it was the first time she had run that far.