Her hair was extraordinarily thick, not just full, but possessing a quality that suggested it was sort of vines. Individual strands seemed to shimmer with faint green luminescence. The color shifted between dark green and brown depending on how light struck it.
Her skin was pale green, not the deep emerald of some elven bloodlines but something more delicate, almost translucent. He could see faint patterns beneath the surface that might have been veins, but looked more like the vascular systems of leaves, branching networks that carried something other than normal blood.
She wore a dress that appeared to be grown rather than sewn. Plant fibers woven together so seamlessly they might have formed naturally, decorated with living flowers that bloomed at the hem and neckline. The dress moved as she did, adjusting its shape slightly as if responding to her needs for coverage and comfort.
But most striking were her eyes. Pale green that seemed to glow faintly from within, with pupils that were elongated vertically like a cat’s rather than round like a human’s or an elf’s. They were large for her face, giving her an appearance of perpetual wonder or fear.
Currently, those eyes were fixed on Jorghan with absolute terror, and he realized he’d just jumped out of the sky and landed in front of a child who’d been trying to flee.
Not exactly a friendly introduction.
"I’m sorry," he said immediately, crouching down to be less intimidating.
"I didn’t mean to scare you. We just wanted to—"
Nami and Sashru arrived, having run after him as fast as their legs could carry them.
Nami took one look at the child and gasped.
"A faery? A child at that?"
She moved forward slowly, her expression shifting from surprise to something approaching reverence.
"I never thought I’d actually see one."
Jorghan and Sashru both looked at her with confusion.
"You seen them before?" Sashru asked, though she was studying the child with increased interest now.
Nami knelt down carefully, not approaching too close, giving the child space while positioning herself to speak at eye level.
"My clan’s ancestors had met them in the past, and there were stories about them among our clan. Faeries are ancient beings, some of the oldest sentient creatures in the realm. They’re said to predate even the thirteen clans, to have existed before elves organized into the political structures we know today. They’re deeply connected to nature, to living things, to the essence that flows through all growing plants and animals."
She gestured at the child gently.
"The thirteen clans traditionally revere faeries as sacred. Not gods exactly, but beings deserving of protection and respect. To harm a faery is considered one of the worst taboos in elven culture. They’re supposed to bring good fortune, to bless lands they inhabit, and to ensure crops grow and waters run clean."
The child had stopped rubbing her head and was now staring at Nami with those enormous green eyes, processing what she was hearing with visible uncertainty about whether these strangers were safe.
Nami’s voice became even gentler.
"Hello, little one. My name is Narmishina. I’m the matriarch of the Ma’zenti clan, and we mean you no harm. We’re just visiting these ruins, and we were surprised to find someone living here. Can you tell us your name?"
She looked up at the little girl and could tell that she had been living a rough life in these lands. And she couldn’t help but wonder why there was a faery, let alone a child, living all alone in these distant lands.
As far as she was aware, they lived in a secluded place, isolated from the beings of the realm.
The child hesitated, her drooping ears twitching slightly as she considered the question. Her eyes darted between Jorghan, Nami, and Sashru, trying to assess threat levels, trying to decide if these strangers could be trusted.
Finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, "Kleela. My name is Kleela."
She could see that Nami was being kind to her, and she could tell that she knew about faeries.
"That’s a beautiful name," Nami replied warmly.
"Can you tell us how long you’ve been living here, Kleela?"
"Several years," Kleela said, her voice becoming slightly more confident as she realized they weren’t immediately attacking her.
"I don’t... I don’t remember exactly. Time is hard to track when you’re alone."
Sashru moved forward carefully, joining Nami in the non-threatening crouch position.
"You’ve been here alone? For years? That must have been very difficult and lonely."
Kleela nodded, and her eyes became wet with tears she was clearly trying not to shed.
"It was. It is. But this place feels safe. The flowers are nice to me. The spirits in the stones don’t mind me living here. And there’s water and plants I can eat, so I don’t starve."
Jorghan settled into a sitting position, making himself as non-intimidating as possible for someone who’d just performed an aerial interception.
"Kleela, can you tell us what happened to your family? Why are you here alone instead of with other faeries?"
Kleela’s expression became confused and sad.
"I... I don’t know. I don’t remember my family very clearly. Sometimes I dream about them, about wings and forests and singing in languages I don’t understand anymore. But when I wake up, the memories scatter like leaves in the wind."
She touched her drooping ears self-consciously.
"I think something bad happened. Something that made me run or hide or... I don’t know. There’s a gap in my memory, like part of my life just disappeared. And when the gap ends, I’m here. In these ruins. Alone."
Nami’s expression showed deep concern.
"How old are you, Kleela?"
"I don’t know," Kleela admitted.
"I look like I’m about ten summers by human counting, but faeries age differently than other races. I might be much older or much younger than I appear. Without my family to tell me, I just... don’t know."
Sashru exchanged glances with Nami and Jorghan, her violet eyes showing a combination of sympathy and alarm.
"Memory loss, living alone for years in ruins, no family contact—something traumatic happened to her. Possibly violence that targeted faeries specifically, or displacement from their traditional territories, or..."
"Or she was abandoned," Nami finished quietly, her voice carrying anger at the possibility.
"Some clans, despite the supposed reverence for faeries, have been known to view them as inconvenient when resources are scarce. A child who can’t contribute to survival efforts, who requires care and protection—some leaders have made terrible choices about such beings."
Kleela’s ears drooped even more, responding to the sad conversation.
"I’m not inconvenient. I help the ruins. I make the flowers grow better, I keep the water in the lake clean, and I sing to the stones so they don’t crumble more. I’m useful!"
The desperation in her voice broke something in Jorghan’s chest. This child had been alone for years, trying to prove her worth to empty ruins, convinced she needed to justify her existence to buildings that couldn’t care.
He moved forward slowly, extending his hand palm-up in the universal gesture of offering rather than demanding.
"Kleela, you don’t need to prove you’re useful. You matter just because you exist. But I want to ask you something, and you can say no if you want. Would you like to come with us? Leave the ruins and live in a settlement with other people, where you won��t be alone anymore?"
Kleela stared at his offered hand with visible longing, but fear warred with hope in her expression. "The ruins are safe. I know every corner, every hiding place. If I leave, if I go somewhere new... what if the bad thing happens again? What if I lose more memories?"
"We’ll protect you," Nami promised, her voice carrying absolute sincerity.
"The Sol’vur clan—these ruins were their home once, and they’re going to rebuild here. You’ve been keeping this place alive with your care. The least we can do is ensure you’re safe and cared for in return."
"And this is Jorghan Sol’vur; he is a strong person, and he will protect you. And we all will."
Sashru added, "And faeries are sacred to the thirteen clans. Having you live with us would be an honor, not a burden. You’d be welcomed, protected, and valued for who you are rather than what you can contribute."
Kleela looked at each of them in turn, those enormous green eyes trying to read their sincerity. Finally, her gaze settled on Jorghan, and something in his expression, perhaps the exhaustion of someone who also carried burdens he didn’t fully understan,d seemed to convince her.
"Okay," she whispered, her tiny hand reaching out to touch his.
"I’ll come with you. But if the ruins get sad without me, if the flowers stop blooming as well, I’ll need to come back and visit. To make sure they’re okay."
"You can visit whenever you want," Jorghan promised, his larger hand closing gently around her tiny one.