Chapter 125: Chapter 109 – To the Victor, Belongs the Spoils

"Personal possession is a different concept for the elven race. In general, elves consider their possession less as their own, and more as a joint property for their family, or even their commune. Houses always fall under this category, as do more common items like clothing and money. The possessions an elf would usually claim as personally theirs, for most cases would be their personal weapons or armor. And in these cases, it was very common for these personal items to be reforged as they were passed on to the next generation of the family." - Desiree Qastrafia, Elven sociologist.

 

"Congratulations," said High Elder Nydia as she welcomed Cal at the side of the ring. "I shall now return these to you."

 

"Isn't this one Bastille's?" Cal asked after she wore her pendant around her neck once again. Besides her pendant Nydia had also passed a thicker ring to her, which used to belong to her late opponent.

 

"Bastille Orendia had no family, no next of kin. By the victor's right, what's his now belongs to you. We will help reforge the mithril used in his weapon as well should you desire it," explained the high elder. She then looked at Cal's wounds with some worry in her expression, especially the large wound in the middle of her chest, through which one could see the eerie sight of blood as it continued to flow through severed blood vessels. "Would you require the services of a healer?"

 

"It will not be necessary," answered Cal. The wounds she had taken during the fight would have killed most any person several times over, beyond fatal even for most talented healers. Yet for her, a side of her welcomed the aches and pain as proof that she still lived, and had yet again triumphed in battle. "I do appreciate the kindness you have offered, my thanks."

 

"Elder Tisané will visit you later then, once we have separated the mithril and cleaned it," said Nydia as Cal left, to which she nodded in approval.

 

Ever since Cal had met and exchanged blows with Aelfried the Undying, she had realized one thing about herself that she had never considered before. Some part of her craved battle, thrived under the pain and challenges it presented. She had realized - and quickly accepted - that part of herself during her many ridiculously bloody and brutal bouts with Aelfried in the months she stayed in Knallgant.

 

She thought to herself that maybe this time she should just leave the wounds be, until the scars faded away naturally, as a reminder of the opponent she had just faced. She walked towards her newfound extended family as she thought so, her steps firm but light, as if she had not just fought and murdered another person in mortal combat.

 

The eerie sight of open wounds from which no blood flowed out had made some spectators withdraw a small distance. It hadn't helped at all that the deep slash she took near the end of the fight had also cleaved right through her armor and clothes, and left quite a bit of her torso bared for all to see. The whites of bone were barely visible under the mesh of eerie flowing blood in some areas.

 

"Child… are you… all right?" Stammered Unitia when Cal reached them. She was clearly baffled at her nonchalance from the many fatal wounds on her body.

 

"They will heal," Cal said nonchalantly, as if she had not just been stabbed through the heart with a metal stake the size of an adult's arm. "Won't even leave a trace after another couple of months. There is no need to worry… Aunt Tia."

 

"I'm just glad you're alive, Celeysria," Idania said as she embraced her half-sister in a warm hug. "Is that Bastille's storage ring you got with you?"

 

"The high elder gave it to me," answered Cal to her sister's question. "She said it's mine by right since he has no next of kin. Why?"

 

"Guess that old fart brought you some fortune instead," replied Idania with a sigh. "Bastille's an old miser, so he probably had quite a lot of good stuff in there. You should check it out."

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"Let's do that at home then," Cal said as they left the square and headed back to Idania's place.

 

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When they reached Idania's place, the first thing Cal did was to change. She had a tunic on this time, so the open wounds would not creep out her family. The smaller scratches she left alone, as even now they had already begun to close.

 

They gathered around the dining table while Cal brought item after item out of Bastille's storage ring. Some carved trinkets of wood and ivory she had not recognized, Unitia explained as figures Bastille collected as a hobby. Now that she took a closer look, Cal did recognize some similarity to the ones Fyodir had.

 

She found several sets of fine quality lamellar mail made of pieces of bone and leather, which were of the wrong size for her, as Bastille was taller and slimmer. Idania expressed some interest in those so Cal just handed them to her. A collection of books of elven poetry - some of them quite rare - she gave to Unitia, who thanked her for the gift.

 

A very finely crafted Atlatl made from the thigh bone of a monster she gave to Elaina, while a multipurpose dagger crafted of fine steel went to Sidonie. A pouch of platinum and gold coins - probably three times as much as what she paid for the small lump of pure adamant and the smith's services - she kept for herself.

 

The storage ring itself, she planned to give to Fheeri, since she had forgotten to get the girl a new one.

 

Later that evening, elder Tisané - the same elder that had shown Cal the formal agreement earlier that day - knocked on their door and offered an ingot of pure mithril for Cal's use.

 

She requested to have the ingot - along with a couple of raw mithril ores she found in Bastille's storage - to be crafted into daggers shaped like larger versions of her throwing darts. As many of them as feasible with the amount of mithril they had. She also requested them to be enchanted with keenness and the ability to return to her hand once thrown - the latter an enchantment only mastered by elves and only usable on mithril.

 

When a young elf delivered her order two weeks later, she was pleased to find eight well-crafted and enchanted daggers. They only had a simple metal tube for a handle that ended in a ring. The blade was shaped much like a spearhead and balanced for throwing.

 

She tested out the enchantment on each dagger and nodded to herself in approval when the daggers returned to their respective metal sheaths exactly ten seconds after they left her hands.

 

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