Preview of Future Story, Part 5 (Patreon)

She arrived at the dining hall, which was mostly empty since the early shift had risen much earlier, and the servants whose work starts later hadn’t yet arrived.There she found Minna, likewise dressed in recently-polished armor, in front of a plate piled high with fried eggs and turnips. Miri was always impressed at how much the dwarf managed to eat. Maddy sat down next to her, her plate also piled high with fried flatcakes, teeming in butter and honey. “I see you’re making Tenari work extra hard today,” Miri joked, gesturing at their plates. “Big day requires a big breakfast. You told us so little, who knows when we’ll get to eat again.” “Fair point,” the half-elf conceded. “Now go get your food, you’re going to make us late!” Maddy prodded.

“What’ll you have today dearie?” asked a Tenari. The halfling was past middle age, but more agile than Miri probably ever would be. “I don’t know…everything looks so good.” “I’ll give you what Maddy got. I know you have a sweet tooth.”

Returning to the table with a large plate of fried cakes, Miryala took her seat. “Good choice!” Maddy laughed. The dwarf cringed at the thought: “Bah, you’ll never be strong eating cakes. Have some eggs.” “Minna don’t talk with your mouth full,” Miryala chided. “Hurry up and eat! You said we have to meet the mistress before dawn, right?”

It might have seemed odd to see an elf scarf down a giant plate of flat cakes slathered in butter and honey. But Miryala was only half-elven, and it showed--in her build, her appetite, her dexterity. Many of the lords and ladies in the city would not have considered hiring a “half-breed” for such an important position. “Worst of both worlds,” Deskelon the Wise had called her kind, at the Second Great Council nearly a millennium ago. Of course, most nobles judged her by the Sayings of Deskelon instead of on her own merits. To them, she was nothing more than that. But Lady Sivallien, in spite of being a full-blooded elf, usually the most judgmental in such cases, recognized Miryala’s potential. Perhaps it was partially because she had known her father. Or maybe it was attachment or pity for an orphan she knew. But whatever the reason, she recognized a leader in the half-elf. And Miryala was grateful for the opportunities she had been given.

On the other hand, she resented the very idea that she was grateful. Seeing her for the person she was should have been the default, not being blinded by the words of some bigoted old mage, a male at that! But thanks to the prejudices of dusty old Deskelon, she’d never be treated as fully equal to any other elf, human, dwarf, or Halfling. Many of the nobles might have thought like Deskelon, but he’d encoded it—his sayings were quoted all over the realms, and were the basis of cultural norms, if not laws.

Her downward spiral of self-reflection was interrupted by Maddy’s finger pointing at her face. “You got a little…well, a LOT of honey dripping down your chin. And I thought Minna ate messy! Clean yourself up, we have to go.”

Miri wiped her chin with her hand, and brushed some crumbs off of her armor as she stood up. “Don’t you worry about cleaning up dears, Tenari’s got it. Get to your business.”

“Thanks, Tenari!” Minna called as they rushed down the corridor toward the great hall.