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It was around noon, the sun hanging in the sky as Vyspyn sits awake underneath a large tree. She looks down at her lap, tracing her finger over the engraved leather book she had been gifted the previous day. The craftsmanship on the cover was beautiful; her initials written in the script used for the Gnomish language were boasted beautifully on the front, as well as an intricate Tree of Life branching out on the back. A lot of love and care was put into it, being made back at Steelborough… the gnomes in the village were always so nice to them when they visited. Pa must have gone by himself one day, since she didn't have any clue about it beforehand.
The half-elf girl undoes the two hinges keeping the book shut, opening it all the way to the back. There, on the inside of the back cover, was a small pocket that she had slid her letter into yesterday.
Just looking at the letter made her feel so many things, but… it was best to keep it in there, where it would be safe.
… Yet Vyspyn hesitantly takes the letter out from its pocket, knowing it was a self-deprecating act. She couldn't help but glance at it every single time she laid eyes on it, though. She stares at the broken red seal on the envelope, the insignia on it inspiring the engraving on the back of her book. Pa said that the tree was a symbol adopted by many wood elves. It's the closest thing she's ever had to represent her elven heritage, other than her given name.
Deep down, that was something she mourned… but given the chance, she wouldn't change her upbringing.
“Good morning, Pumpkin…”
Vyspyn hears crunching footsteps behind her, whipping her head around the tree. A 3-foot-tall gnome holding a quarterstaff twice his size approaches her.
She carefully puts her letter back into the pocket and closes the book. “Good morning, Pa.”
He gives her a loving smile. “Happy birthday.”
Vyspyn smiles back, thanking him. It wasn't technically her birthday… they had their guesses, but this was the day that Fudwick had adopted her, and she had been with him ever since she was at most a few days old.
The old gnome looks at her book as he takes off his heavy backpack. “I hope you like your gift.”
“I do, thank you so much,” Vyspyn says. She turns it over to look at the front cover. “I love it.”
“Well, I'm glad… it took weeks for it to be made, I only got my hands on it a few days back… I was afraid that it wouldn’t make it to you on time for you leaving.”
She was leaving… she didn't know exactly when, but Pa had told her that the Circle wanted it to be today, right on her 21st birthday. Somehow, he was able to convince them to hold off for a day or so, just so he could spend more time with her. He gave her the gift yesterday instead of today, hoping that they wouldn't have to think about her departure.
Vyspyn pushes the thought of leaving to the back of her mind as she looks up at him. “I'm glad it worked out, it turned out beautifully. I'm really excited to use it.”
“I'm happy to hear that.” Fudwick hobbles over beside Vyspyn, putting an arm around her for a hug. “You eat yet today?”
She hugs back. “I had some leftover jerky I had stuffed in my bag… what about you?”
“I ate earlier, woke up at dawn,” he says, slowly lowering to sit on the ground as he sits his quarterstaff down beside him.
Vyspyn nods, putting her book in her satchel. “Gotcha… so, what are we gonna do today?”
“Whatever the birthday girl wants.”
She figured he’d say that. “You know I’m fine with anything! As long as we do it together…”
“Heh… you're startin’ to sound like me. That’s a consequence of gettin’ old.”
Vyspyn wears a cheesy grin. “Oh yeah? 21 is old?”
“Oh, it’s ancient. I'd hate to be that old.” Fudwick's voice is filled with sarcasm. “Good thing I'm only 20.”
She looks at him teasingly. “20…? I think you look a tiny bit older than 20.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Oh? How old do I look?”
“... Maybe around 450?”
Fudwick grabs his chest, leaning his head backwards as he wails in fake betrayal. A chuckle breaks through his voice. “Oh no, I can't believe you said that!”
Vyspyn begins to laugh, holding her hands out. “Nooo! I take it back! You don't look a day over 400!”
“Heheheh!...” Fudwick slowly sits back up straight, holding tightly onto his quarterstaff to aid himself back on his feet. “I'll take your word for it.”
Vyspyn grabs her satchel and stands up as well, now looking down at him. She definitely wasn’t tall; gnomes were just short.
“You might've gained a few more inches, too.”
She chuckles. “You always say that.”
“It sure does feel like it, though. Maybe I'm just shrinking.”
“I know I haven't gotten any taller. Those years are gone.”
“Heheh, I know, I'm just messin' with ya.”
Vyspyn smiles at him one more time, undoing the button on her cloak and taking it off.
She sighs, tying it around her waist. “Phew, it's hot today.”
“Sure is… Do you need a cold drink? If you wanted, we could go to the tavern… spend the day at the village.”
As much as village trips were a treat, Vyspyn knew she'd better spend as much time in the forest as she could before she had to go. “I dunno, I'd really like to stay here I think…”
“That's alright… let's get you some water, though. Don't want you to get dehydrated.”
Vyspyn nods. The two of them gather their things and begin to walk together, a direction that would be seemingly random to someone who wasn't familiar with the Forest of Tethir.
After not too long, they arrive at Lake Wealdath. Fudwick props his quarterstaff against a tree and takes a vessel out of his backpack, handing it to Vyspyn. She moves to sit near the side of the lake, staying close to the ground as she extends her arm to scoop up water from the lake. Fudwick picks up a few sticks and branches to create a fire.
“Pa?”
“Mhm?”
Vyspyn moves away from the bank, giving over the water as she speaks. “Remember when I was little, and I would climb the trees thinking you couldn't see me watching you?”
Fudwick speaks sarcastically. “You used to spy on me? Since when?”
The both of them exchange big smiles, Fudwick’s tone shifting into one more nostalgic. “Heheh, of course I do… you always thought you were so sneaky, you little stinker.”
Fudwick lights the fire, and as he does so, he spots someone moving on the other side of the water bank.
He holds up a hand to wave at the man, prompting Vyspyn to look that way as well. A human man waves back, making his way to their side of the lake.
By the time the man walks over, the water has been placed over the fire and is heating up to eventually reach a boil.
“Hey, Kee’an! Whatcher been up to?”
“I'm on my way to Saradush from Murann. Had to drop off some things for trade, like usual. Been out for about a week. What about you, what're y’all doing?”
“Well, I'm not quite sure yet… that's for the birthday girl to decide.”
Vyspyn smiles, half-embarrassed. Kee’an turns to her.
“Oh yeah? How old you turning?”
“I'm 21 today.”
The man grins wide. “Ahh, the big 21! Have you had your drink yet?”
“We’re boiling some water…”
“I meant liquor, darlin’.”
Vyspyn is caught by surprise. “Really?”
The man turns away from her. “You're tellin’ me, Fudwick, you're givin’ her water to drink instead of alcohol? Or are half-elves just not legal the same age humans are?”
“I imagine they are… I did offer to take her to the tavern in Steelborough, but she wanted to stay out here.”
The man shakes his head, speaking to Vyspyn. “C’mon, girl. You gotta do it. It's a rite of passage.”
Add that to the list of ones she had to do.
“Alright, if you say so…”
Fudwick furrows his brow in thought, thinking. Vyspyn looks down to speak to him. “We can go to the tavern.”
“Actually… I have a better idea.”
“What's that?”
“You'll see.” He turns back to Kee’an. “It was nice seeing you, my friend. Safe travels back to Saradush!” Fudwick waves.
“Will do! Nice seeing you! You too, Vyspyn!” Kee’an waves at the two of them, beginning to trek on his way once again.
Vyspyn waves back, Fudwick moving to the boiling water. He takes it off the fire and extinguishes it. “Is your wineskin in your bag?”
“Mhm.” Vyspyn pulls it out, handing it to Fudwick.
“After this water cools off, I'll take you to where I was thinkin'. You gotta drink up, though. Alcohol dehydrates you.”
She cracks a smile. “You're actually taking me to get some?”
“Only if you want to. Won't force you to do anything you don't wanna do.”
“I mean, I'll try it… kind of curious as to what it tastes like.”
“Then that's what we’ll do.”
Vyspyn drinks a large portion of the water in the wineskin and Fudwick collects more water before the two of them decide to leave the lake.
Fudwick leads the way for a bit, a beautiful day to be walking in the woods. He talks with Vyspyn before he asks her a certain question. “Have you ever read up on albenwood trees?”
Vyspyn’s face scrunches as she begins to think, trying to recall it. “Mm... maybe? I don't think I remember ‘em, though… why?”
He smiles. “The tree sap can be alcoholic.”
“Really!?”
“Yup… They are sought after by all kinds of people in hopes of harvesting it for themselves, but they take an expert to spot the trees since they look so similar to certain kinds of oaks.”
“I didn't know that!”
“Yup. They're sparse unless you know exactly where to look… around this time of year, some of the trees are bleeding their sap, and depending on certain conditions, it can be used to put into drinks or even eaten all by itself.”
“That's so interesting…!”
“It is, isn't it?”
“... Wow…”
The father and daughter walk together for quite some time before Fudwick points to a large tree in the distance. “I think that's one right there.”
“Really? How do you know?”
“It looks to be mature but it's shorter than an oak, which is pretty usual… also, when you get to be old like me and have done things like this for years, it gets easier.”
“Hah... I'm getting there.”
The two of them walk up to the tree, sap visible against its trunk. Vyspyn inspects it closely, Fudwick watching her with a smile on his face.
“Go on, try it.”
Vyspyn keeps her eyes fixed on the tree, bringing her fingers up to the sap and then to her mouth to taste it.
…
She makes an indescribable face, one leaning into disgust. “Wow, that's really strong.”
Fudwick breaks out into a chuckle. “Do you like it?”
Vyspyn tastes it again, this time not eating nearly as much as she had the first time.
“... I… don't know? It's weird. Like, there's a really nasty flavor to it, but then the aftertaste is fine? Like, it tastes like normal sap.”
Fudwick nods a few times. “Yup. That sounds about right. It tastes a bit better once you mix it into an actual drink, I believe.”
“Do you like it?”
“Sometimes I'll be in the mood for it. Most of the time, though, it's not my cup of tea. I'd rather have a cup of tea.”
Vyspyn smiles. “Me, too.”
…..
“Could we… uh… do that? Before I have to… you know...”
Fudwick gives her a sad smile. “Of course we can… Did you want to bring some of this to try with the tea?”
“Mm… yeah actually, I'm kind of curious if that would make it taste better...”
“Then that's what we'll do.”
Fudwick stores some of the sap and puts it in his backpack, the two of them walking back where they came. They collect their favorite flowers along the way for tea, lavender and chrysanthemum, as well as pick a few berries for later.
“Chrysanthemum has always been your favorite,” Vyspyn says, picking more flowers.
“It sure has.”
“Like... always been your favorite. It's never changed.”
“Heheh, I remember when it used to be your favorite!”
“I know! I guess I ended up drinking it a bit too much...”
“Heheh. I'm just stuck in my ways, I suppose.”
The two of them walk back to the other side of the lake, settling back down around the same area they had that morning. The sun was now setting, the dark forest around them lit up only by the fire they had prepared.
They boil more water and put their flowers in their cups, waiting for it to steep before Fudwick picks up the tree sap they gathered and hands it to Vyspyn.
They drink their tea for a while before Vyspyn speaks quietly.
“... I’m gonna miss this.”
Fudwick frowns. “You know I will, too… but you'll be back before you know it. And this’ll be good for you.”
“I know, but…. I'm just gonna miss you a lot. Traveling would be a lot more fun with you…”
Silence hangs in the air for a moment or two.
“Like… remember when I was little… and I said that one day we'd go adventuring together like you did years ago?...” She chuckles sadly.
“I do… it's your turn now though, pumpkin.”
She takes another sip. “.... I really just don't wanna go.”
“I know… I don’t want you to go, either. But you got a book to fill.”
Vyspyn sets down her drink, reaching to grab her book and opening it. She stares at the blank pages, flipping continuously until she reaches the back and her eyes land on the pocket containing her letter.
She lowers her head, her eyes welling up.
“Pa…?”
“What is it, baby?”
“... Do you think there's a chance I could ever find Mom?”
Fudwick looks at her sadly before moving next to her, wrapping an arm around her consolingly. “... I do… I'm sure you’ll meet her someday.”
Vyspyn's voice becomes wet with tears. “What if I don't? What if she never knows that I'm safe? And that you took care of me? And that I'm going down this path?”
Vyspyn’s mother not knowing what became of her… that's something Fudwick had always felt a bit guilty about. The letter he found that her mother had written clearly showed concern for the child, and a hope that she would be safe and grow up without any concern of being a half-elf…
He never told Vyspyn that he had found her in the neighboring forest, where her mother had left her. And he told himself he wouldn't.
Her mother may want to see her, but the elves most certainly wouldn't. It was too dangerous.
“If Nature permits it… you two will find each other someday. I’m sure of it.”
That's something he did believe.
Vyspyn hugs him, the girl crying quietly as Fudwick holds her tight.
She was absolutely devastated… should he tell her?
Fudwick remains in thought for a while as he holds his daughter in his arms.
… Not right now. She needed to rest.
“How ‘bout you get some sleep, Honey…”
Vyspyn picks up her head, wiping her tears away. She nods. “Yeah… okay…”
Fudwick pats her on the back gently. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Pa.”
They both stand up, Vyspyn walking to a tree before she looks to her father. “Are you going to stay up for a bit?”
“... Yeah. I'll head to bed shortly, though. You just get some rest.”
“Okay… goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Pumpkin.”
Vyspyn climbs the tree, laying in its branches as she relaxes in an attempt to sleep. Fudwick remains awake, moving closer to the fire and sitting down as he watches it.
After a while, he hears a rustle come from behind him, turning to see what it was.
Approaching him is a familiar man carrying a staff: tall and stocky, his long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail.
“Ah, Russell... pleasure seeing you.”
“Good evening, Wandermoss… where's the girl?”
Fudwick gestures up to the tree towards Vyspyn, who is laying still with her eyes closed and seems to be sleeping soundly. “She's getting some rest.”
He nods. “Good. She will need all she can get for tomorrow.”
“... Tomorrow?”
“She’s leaving tomorrow.”
Fudwick sternly looks up at the man. “Russell, we talked about this. The Circle agreed that we could push it back a few more days-”
“And that is what we did. You received what you wanted, and that is celebrating the child’s birthday.”
His expression is indignant. “... You didn't tell me she had to leave tomorrow.”
“It has been long enough.”
Fudwick’s face slowly falls as his expression becomes disappointed. “She’s not ready to leave. Let her stay just a bit longer. Please.”
The man practically towers over him. “Is she not prepared to leave, or are you not ready to let her go?”
They stare at each other.
“... I know you care for the child, but she is your apprentice first, Wandermoss.”
“She was my daughter first.”
…
“Then get ready for your daughter to leave.” He turns away, walking back into the dark forest.
“She should be gone tomorrow by sundown. Goodnight, Wandermoss.”
Fudwick is soon alone at the fire. Extinguishing it, he moves beside the tree to lay down for the night.
Vyspyn slowly opens her eyes, unable to hold back her silent tears any longer.