Chapter 91: A Whimsical Descent
Chapter 91: A Whimsical Descent
"Settle down," the pointy-eared man said tiredly with a yawn, scratching his head. "I am not your enemy. Quite the opposite, in fact. I am Gurmo, just an elf that lives alone."
"An elf?" Finn repeated, dismissing his dagger.
"Woah, he totally is," Jasper said in surprise.
The awe of the visitors didn't seem to be offensive to the old man, though he did seem a bit taken aback by their surprise.
Gurmo grumbled, "You come from a world without my kind, I take it?"
"Yeah, elves are just fairy tales for us–at least they were," Finn answered.
The old elf sat himself down on a chair set by the steps, having to move as though his bones were brittle as he let out a sigh upon planting down, "Ah…seat yourselves, please."
Finn obliged as a guest, curious to learn more about the elf, specifically why he decided to aid them, or how he even came to know of their arrival.
"We appreciate the hospitality, but I must ask," Magnus directly confronted the elder. "Why are you helping us?"
"Is it such an odd thing to want to help?" Gurmo asked sincerely.
"No, but…how did you know we were coming?" Finn questioned further.
The old elf sat there for a moment before scratching his head, "It's been foretold for centuries now that when the world was on its final breath, warriors from a land far away would come to snuff out its flame. To put it to rest."
"I see…you're fine with it? I mean, you're fine with your world coming to an end?" Finn asked.
A look of distant sorrow was present on the elf's face, though the old man hid it well as he spoke, "Civilization has all but been vanquished. I've lived many, many years. Rather than be another to be slain in this falling world, I wish to see it at its very end; to observe its last breath."
Hearing the wishes of the old man that showed them hospitality, it only brought a bleak understanding. The hopeless acceptance of the old man brought them all to a moment of silence, looking between one another with assuredly the same thought in their minds.
Seeing what a world on the brink of collapse looked like, civilization tossed aside and claimed by monsters and otherworldly depravities–it was a fate met with resignation.
'This isn't how it will end up for us…It won't,' Finn assured himself.
After some time of silence, the elf stood himself up while holding his back, exuding a breath as if trying not to pull a muscle.
"I will be downstairs for my reading time. Please finish your meal in peace, and rest as you'd like; there are beds upstairs for each of you," Gurmo insisted, taking the stairs down.
"Thank you," Charlotte showed her gratitude.
A small wave of the elder's hand came in response before he disappeared into the stairwell with quiet, infrequent steps echoing. Meeting the peculiar owner of the tree abode, the meat pie was promptly finished off, at least, a large portion of it seeing as they all became full before getting even halfway through it.
"I'm stuffed…" Jasper said with a sigh of satisfaction, getting up from his seat sluggishly while heading towards the stairs. "I'm going to make use of the old mate's offer and get some snooze."
"Yeah, get some rest," Finn said, watching the knight ascend the steps.
It wasn't long after such a hearty meal that Charlotte joined in claiming a bed, though Finn remained steadfastly awake, unable to shake his curiosity of the world around him. A bundle of hours passed, bringing him down to the first floor again where he found the old elf quietly reading a book as large as his own body.
"I'm going to get some fresh air for a bit," Finn told the elf.
The old man turned the page he was reading, "Just close the door behind you. I don't want to let any unwelcome guests in."
"Right," Finn said.
He stepped towards the front of the tree-abode, opening the door as he stepped outside. It felt like a completely different scenery; the golden leaves that shone like sunlight had turned to a quiet, dark-blue glow, subdued like the night.
'They changed color? It feels like night now…I wonder if it changes throughout the day,' he presumed, closing the door behind him as he gazed up.
"It's quite something, isn't it?"
Finn was greeted by the question, finding Magnus standing with his back against the front of the tree, gazing up at the cerulean leaves.
"I didn't take you for somebody to appreciate nature," Finn responded.
"Well, I guess eventually I have to give in," Magnus lightly said. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"
"Shoot away," Finn allowed, standing beside the cannoneer while gazing at the tranquil scenery of the woods.
Magnus lit a cigarette, still somehow having a supply on him as he puffed out smoke as if needing a moment to settle his mind before speaking up, "Does it…bother you? How we can be cut up, put on the brink of death then be just fine a moment later."
Pondering the unexpected question, Finn felt his neck lightly, "It is weird when you think about it. I've lost my arms before–no, I've entirely died even. Yet I'm here."
"It doesn't bother you?" Magnus asked.
"I guess not. I'm just sort of used to it at this point," Finn answered truthfully.
"I'm not–I try to be, but each time it happens, it makes me lose it just a bit more. Watching my body be slashed and gutted, then perfectly normal…It feels fake," Magnus said. "Like this is all just a game–as though my body is some copy."
Finn could tell it bothered the man, never seeing the usually stoic cannoneer speak with such openness, though he understood it, "Thinking of it all as a game isn't so bad. I just remind myself that as long as I can level, nothing that happens to my body matters."
"That's a twisted way of fighting," Magnus remarked, puffing from his cigarette.
"Well, it's just how I deal with it," Finn answered.
There was some silence between them as the cannoneer finished his smoke before putting it out and passing by the young man to go back inside. He stayed out there alone with the lingering smell of smoke that overpowered the aroma of the neighboring flowers.
Ambience of birds chirping up high in the towering trees; the howls of beasts afar; it didn't disturb him as he took it in, taking a leisurely walk into the woods. He didn't intend to venture far, only finding a tucked-away trail to the right of the oaken abode.
'I wonder what Damian would've thought about this place,' he wondered while pushing the tall bushes out of the way while following the simple pathway.
Past the line of foliage, he discovered a small clearing inhabited by a tree even larger than the one that housed the elf. It appeared ancient, with its roots that gripped onto the soil as thick as normal trunks, layered in moss with growths of amber along its bark.
He approached it, finding an opening at its base like that of an alluring doorway. It was difficult to see into the cavity with abundant darkness at its threshold, though something caught his eye–a glint like a diamond.
'What's that?' He wondered, slowly stepping closer.
Normally, he wouldn't pursue such a thing, like a curious child, though he found himself allured by that shimmering existence, almost to an unnatural degree.
It was just short enough that he had to get on his hands and knees to crawl in, immediately greeted by a surprisingly pleasant aroma before seeing anything. Like cotton candy, the smell brought him to curiously crawl towards the glimmering object.
In the dark, hollow base of the tree, he reached his hand out, stretching his arm as his fingers nearly grasped the opulent object.
Just a bit further, a little more to reach it, inching himself deeper in as his fingertips grazed what it was for a single moment before–
"Wuah?!--"
There was nothing solid as he moved in, slipping into a hole of unseen depth. It took the breath from his lungs, not expecting to suddenly plummet as he tried to reach out and grab onto the passing roots that stuck out from the walls of dirt, though failed.
'What the hell–?!' He thought in a panic.
The rabbit hole was unnaturally deep, bringing him to descend on and on as he could see the glint of what sat in the cavity growing distant until being nothing more than a speck. It was narrow, but just large enough that he couldn't use his hands and feet in conjunction to halt his fall, only able to fruitlessly reach in an attempt to grab hold of anything he could.
A whirl of wind filled his ears as he fell, feeling the unseen depths against his back before—he landed.
It all went black, perhaps for a minute or a mere moment.
"Ah…?" He let out a breath as he opened his eyes.
Rather than having his body turned to a red paste upon impact, he felt perfectly fine as if dropping onto a pillow. He laid there for a moment before picking himself up, finding himself on a bed of grass.
"Where did I…fall?" He questioned while rubbing the back of his head.