It didn’t take him long to reach what could barely be called a home. Despite the faint glow of moonlight guiding him through the winding streets, his legs felt heavy with every step. This level of exhaustion was unfamiliar to him – not the physical exhaustion from exertion or mental exhaustion from deep thought. It was a weariness of existence, a tiredness of life that had accumulated over time. He recalled the older elves he had encountered during his travels, some of whom had a term for this feeling.
“Elven Grief.“
While this was a simplified translation of the term, it was challenging to find the right words in the human language. No language seemed to have the capacity to fully capture the intense emotions associated with the term. The emotions that humans experienced were nothing compared to the depth of emotions felt by elves. Tharos pondered if he was undergoing a similar experience, as there was much about his current condition that remained unknown to him. He had lost a significant portion of his strength and found himself bound to the city, both physically and metaphorically. Attempting to leave the city resulted in excruciating pain that rendered him unable to venture beyond the city gates.
“There is still so much I don’t know.“
His expression darkened as he absorbed the statement, and soon he arrived at his intended destination. The building in front of him was a tall, multi-story structure, adorned with the symbol of a large eye carved into the stone and surrounded by a walled courtyard. Like the temple, it was well-maintained to the best of his abilities, given his limited knowledge of practical skills. While reading could provide a broad understanding of a subject, there was a certain irreplaceable value in hands-on experience. Practical knowledge offered a level of nuance that books alone could not provide, allowing one to truly grasp a concept through firsthand experience.
As he pushed open the main door and walked to his room, he passed by numerous rooms and corridors in the building. Faint whispers and the sound of chisels on stone tablets filled the air, echoing in his mind. Whenever Tharos tried to locate the source of the sounds, he only found empty hallways and rooms. The only sounds breaking the silence were his echoing footsteps and soft, slow breathing.
Tharos felt a sense of comfort in this building, his home in the city. As he ascended the stairs to his room, he couldn’t help but wonder why this place felt so right to him. The room was spacious, adorned with wooden furniture, shelves overflowing with books, scrolls, and stone tablets. A large bed dominated the space, while a worn-in chair and desk occupied a corner. Tharos removed his Armor, placed his weapons by the bedside, and changed into his night robes, revealing his well-built physique. His broad shoulders, toned chest, and agile limbs spoke of his skill as a swordsman. Seated at his desk, he studied a detailed map of the city, marked with locations and movements. In his mind, he pondered the mysteries of the city and his place within it.
“There was a pattern to these treasure hunters, they always came in from the south gate. They always camped near the temple and the sorcerer tower.”
“They might be utilizing these locations as points of interest and landmarks, perhaps I can leverage this to my benefit?”
“Make it easier to ambush them, yes.”
He thought to himself that this plan should suffice until he could come up with a more permanent solution. As he worked on devising his next plan of attack, Tharos noticed a voluptuous woman with long, sandy brown curly hair and wide hazel eyes sitting on his desk next to him. Her hair was flowing freely, and instead of a fine silk robe, she was wearing a plain robe that accentuated her figure. She watched Tharos with a warm smile, dangling her legs over the desk. Tharos appreciated her smile, though not as much as she seemed to appreciate his.
As Tharos reached out to touch her, the young woman disappeared in the blink of an eye. Tharos then noticed the light of the new dawn greeting him as sunlight poured into the room, warming his body. He was unsure of how much time had passed and whether he had rested at all, but the feeling of exhaustion had vanished. This was a mystery he would need to explore further, but for now, he had more urgent tasks to attend to. It was now morning, and Tharos proceeded to dress in his usual attire before heading to the palace. As he prepared to leave the room, he glanced back at the desk, a somber expression clouding his face.
“I broke my promise, Didn’t I.”
Any meaning behind the use of Skellington for Skeleton? Interesting choice. Not a big issue but some sentences lack capitalisation at the start. Do you avoid using a word-processor because the auto-correct/suggestions get in the way of writing?