Warm Breeze [Open]

The sun loomed above the golden sands and emerald branches, the soaked granules and the dew on the leaves glistening as the light enveloped them. The sounds of the gentle waves washing over the shoreline of the beach was calming, soothing, enchanting to the elf's large, sensitive ears.

Although the atmosphere was relaxing for Vocil, its entirety was overwhelming for him—nothing was anything similar to what he was used to seeing on Lathander. His emerald eyes glanced and scanned at the surroundings around him, taking in what he saw and trying to compare it to something, anything in Queldorah that he could recognize, but nothing; the sky was lighter than what he was used to, shapes and colors of the trees were brighter and more dull than what was around his elven home, and the ground was loose sand and gravel in some places as opposed to the marble floors and dirt paths of Queldorah.

A gentle sigh escaped the elf's thin lips as his arms slacked by their sides. He knew that venturing out into the World was to be a big step forward but he didn't think it would feel like he jumped into a patch of quicksand. Still, he had fought against more worse things than homesickness, and so began to path along the shoreline, glancing at his surroundings as he trekked.

The more Vocil walked, the more he began to feel comfortable about the strange place he had found himself in. He never knew of life outside of Queldorah, but found that, though this world looked different, it also felt different. Better. More peaceful, in fact. But before his mind could wander any further, his eyes caught glimpse of two figures upon the beach. One was fairly small, thin, almost child-like. The other was large and looked quite brutish. Though perhaps against his better judgement, the elf made his way towards them.

"Anar'alah, strangers," he greeted with a half-elven tongue, gestured with a smile and a light wave. "I see that I'm not the only one who idles upon the shoreline."

It wasn't something that the elf had heard before, this "play-fighting". It was near enough unheard of for two elves to physically fight one-another unless it was military training and sparring. But here, if what the boy said was true, then it was peaceful. Though he did wonder if whatever these kids were reading was a bad influence on their maturity growth. He had seen people crave and pursue power before, to dangerous results.

But the loud voice of the hunter broke the elf's moment of thought. But as he stood to hear the words he became more and more stern in his thoughts. Though he knew that the world here was different and that Ajax' words were not with ill-intent, it still griped him slightly, especially with his smirk and casual attitude about it.

"No. As a child, I never wielded a stick. That would be asking to die." Vocil became somewhat distant with his words, his mind going back centuries as he relived memories of his childhood. "When I was at their age I had wielded my first blade. And it was used to impale the heart of an Orc barbarian as he rushed towards me. But this is the norm for us elves; to fight in defence against those who would do us harm—and there were plenty. And although I hate the thought of children losing their innocence to violence and bloodshed, I must admit that it is that reason that we have not driven to extinction."

The elf sighed heavily as he took a seat just a few feet from them, his emerald eyes gazing out towards the ocean. "And yet a peaceful place like this exists. For you, there is no reason to fight. For me… Ah, for all elves, we fight because we have no choice. Though I have since left my home, I hope to return one day with more power—power that rivals the gods, to smite our enemies until they are but a fragmented memory."

It was a bitter pill to swallow to hear himself accept the fact that their constant wars against invaders gave them the knowledge of how to survive, but to hear Mifune recant it was like penicillin to Vocil. It left a bad taste in his mouth to be sure, but his understanding was a slight cure to the elf's heartache. To hear a foreigner boy to like he was a native to Queldorah helped ease the stress of the thoughts he was enduring, and even more so as he cheered for his cause. It was the first piece of praise the elf had received since he had left, and it felt like cool spring water against his face.

Vocil turned a little as he heard the two speak, smiling a little as he heard their words. "Thank you for your kind words," he expressed with gratitude as he peered over the arm that rest on his knee. "Though you sound as though you have experienced these hardships before… despite being in such a peaceful world." He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing a little as he gazed at the pair. "I assume that you have also explored other worlds?"