“Oooh look, here comes yet another Elf.” A particularly brash human snorted, shoulder-barging the slender, blond-haired elf as he passed. He laughed as the elf righted himself and bowed his head to the man.
“My apologies for walking into you.” He spoke with a soft, musical lilt to his voice, eyes downcast. His mannerisms not only drew more laughter from the man who had hit him, but his gaggle of friends who loitered with him in the quiet streets.
“Well, I don’t think I accept, Elf. I think I need some compensation.” He stated, holding his hand out. “I bet you’ve got all kinds of treasures on you that you could pass over.”
“And there’s not a lot you can do about it either, your wicked magic is forbidden in the city, Elf.” Another man, emboldened by the prospect of treasure, spat.
The Elf looked between the four men and let out a weary sigh before drawing himself up tall, his features changing from a meek look to one of resignation for the troubles humans could cause. “You are correct,” he began to speak as he removed his glasses, slipping them into a protective case, “in that I cannot use magic. If the four of you seek to persist in this foolishness, well, I cannot be held accountable for any injuries on your part.”
“Oh shut up! Come on, let’s rob this tall streak of scum and get out of here!” The initial aggressor barked, before swinging out with a bodyweight-packed fist.
It was a simple feat to step back with the grace of a gentle breeze, before a vicious swing of the elbow drove the side of it into the man’s nose. As the man tumbled splurting blood from his crushed nose, the elf stepped forwards with several tightly practiced strikes, fists and palms striking crippling spots to fell his attackers into inaction. As the last of the four fell with arms wrapped around his chest, the elf let out another long sigh.
“Humans, you fixate on just one aspect of us, ignoring anything else in the hopes of grasping some comfort in this dangerous world. I leave you with your lives and your possessions intact. Be thankful of that.”
With that said, he turned on his heels and continued walking, resuming the more meek stance of the scholar as his glasses returned to perching on the bridge of his chiselled nose.
In the neat confines of his room, the Elf’s hands fondly traced the heavy tomes of arcane knowledge resting on his desk. Hours of his life had been spent pouring over them and the information contained within. They were like old friends now, travelling everywhere with him on his journeys across lands elven, human, beast and beyond.
Taking one in each hand, he moved back to the centre of the room to start his days exercises, going through repetitions of each lift with the books in place of weights. His old friends gave him strength in more than just mind.