A levitation carriage slid silently up to a housing project and came to a halt. The door opened and an elf in a sharp business suit stepped out. He looked around apprehensively at the single level apartments that had been carved out of dirt mounds that had trees of various kinds growing out of them. It was a horrible, wretched place that he was eager to leave, but he had business to attend.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to come in?” A female elf inside the carriage asked. “He’d love to see his grandchildren, and they’d love to see him.”
His two children didn’t look as if they had any opinion on the subject. His son had a vis-helm strapped to his head, completely oblivious to the world. His daughter was staring out the window with music loudly squalling from her earpieces.
“It’s fine.” He assured her. “I don’t want to be here long. Just stay in the carriage and lock the doors.”
“If you say so.” His wife relented with a tone that meant she was going to hold it against him. “Don’t forget the bag.”
The elf took the bag and shut his family safely inside. He approached one of the apartments with a brisk hover, his toes several inches from the ground. The neighboring apartment had a goblin sitting outside the door. Judging by the smell, she was smoking a pipe of stone-root. She glared at him suspiciously. He didn’t want to look nervous, but he knew he stood out as an outsider. Only a desperate fool would attack a tier five elf in broad daylight, but this place stunk of tier one desperation. Many of the residents are only half a step from banishment to Grand Isle. He couldn’t help but draw a defensive spell up to his fingertips, only dispelling it in order to knock on the door.
“Hey, Dad!” He said as cheerily as he could when it opened.
“Randolph!” The elf that had opened the door greeted. “Come in, come in! I didn’t realize it was Sunday already!”
Randolph ducked inside the humble home, eager to get away from the foul smell of burning stone-root. He glanced around, pleased to find the inside wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as the outside had suggested. It was simple, but clean. At least his father was taking care of the place and not living in squalor.
“You hungry?” His father asked. “I’m about to fire up the transmutron, I could make up another plate.”
“I’m not going to stay long.”
“Yeah, I guessed you wouldn’t.”
“I brought you some food anyway.” Randolph said, handing him the bag.
“Oh, good!” The older elf said, taking the bag. “Real food is better than the transmuted stuff. Thank you!”
His father emptied the bag onto the counter. In short order he had a pile stacked up as the extra-dimensional container held far more than its small size suggested. He attempted to hand the bag back but Randolph turned him down and let him keep it. While his father organized the food into his cupboards the elf took a moment to look around and wandered into the small living room. He noticed one of the walls had an unfinished mural on it. It was an incredibly detailed image of a dragon.
“Are you painting this?” He asked.
His father joined him. “That’s Abby.” The old elf told him. “She was my partner for almost five-hundred years. A damn good steed.”
His father had a sudden forlorn expression and looked down. “After I was terminated from the force she became aggressive and wouldn’t accept a new marshal. They ended up putting her down.”
Randolph looked at his father. He couldn’t help noticing all the tell-tale signs of his illness. Gray in his hair and lines on his face were apparent. Time was not supposed to mar an elf, but his father had twenty years left at most before the low mana output would consume him.
“I’m sorry.”
The old elf shook his head. “It’s my fault. I spoiled her and ruined her.” He quickly changed the subject.
“How’s your mother?”
“Getting spoiled and ruined by her new husband.” Randolph told him.
His father chuckled. “That’s good. It’s good that she moved on.” There was an uncomfortably long pause.
“Randolph, you can move on too. You don’t have to love me anymore.”
“I don’t, Dad.”
Another pause and Randolph wasn’t about to break it. His father had embarrassed the family – had embarrassed him – and didn’t deserve anything more than an occasional visit. He didn’t come down here because he loved him, but because he was obligated to and his wife expected it. It would be embarrassing to have his father starve to death, or worse, get banished to the slums before the curse finished the job.
His father finally spoke. ‘’Randolph… I —”
“It was good seeing you, Dad.” The elf lied before hovering to the door. “I’ll call you next time I’m in town.”
With that he left his father with the unfinished image of a dead dragon.
