Innverse Stats

Name	Text
Ceria Springwalker	“We are fragments of the past, Ceria Springwalker. That is all we are.”
Ceria Springwalker	Ceria sat on her great-grandmother’s lap and looked up. The small cottage was covered in hanging herbs, braids of garlic—every time she breathed in, a myriad of spices tickled her nose. She sneezed, and her great-grandmother sighed.
Ceria Springwalker	Ceria shifted. Her seat wasn’t that comfortable—her great-grandmother was too bony, and she was holding the young half-Elf tightly in case she slipped away, which is what Ceria wanted to do. She hated questions like these.
Ceria Springwalker	Ceria shifted. Her seat wasn’t that comfortable—her great-grandmother was too bony, and she was holding the young half-Elf tightly in case she slipped away, which is what Ceria wanted to do. She hated questions like these.
Ceria Springwalker	An impatient sigh—Ceria felt her ear tips being flicked and she hunched over sulkily.
Ceria Springwalker	Chastened by the threat, Ceria sat as still as possible, trying not to move. She heard a quiet sigh from above.
Ceria Springwalker	“You’re too young. But someone has to tell you and those prideful fools would never speak of this. Ceria, the truth is that after all these long years, our people probably have only a drop of Elven blood in our veins. Only a drop, the smallest fraction of fractions. Only that. We aren’t half-Elves. Not even close.”
Ceria Springwalker	The news didn’t disappoint Ceria, because she didn’t fully understand.
Ceria Springwalker	“Again, not quite. Do you want to know something interesting, Ceria?”
Ceria Springwalker	Another sigh, but this time Ceria didn’t receive a flick to the ear.
Ceria Springwalker	“The interesting thing is that this is always true, Ceria. No matter how many generations pass, a half-Elf with a thousand Human parents on one side will always produce a half-Elf child. No matter what.”
Ceria Springwalker	Ceria’s doubtful reply elicited the first laughter from her great-grandmother she’d heard in a long time. The old half-Elf stroked Ceria’s hair gently.
Ceria Springwalker	Ceria’s doubtful reply elicited the first laughter from her great-grandmother she’d heard in a long time. The old half-Elf stroked Ceria’s hair gently.
Ceria Springwalker	“It might not seem like much to you yet, but it is something to remember. We are mostly Human, for all the others like to pretend we’re so much better. All we have is a drop of our heritage, Ceria. But it’s enough.”
Ceria Springwalker	“Enough. What runs in our veins is a fragment of what we were. An echo of legends past. But it is pure magic in our blood, Ceria. The purest. Even Dragons bowed to Elves as masters of magic. And though the Elves are gone, we remain. It is in our natures; magic. It comes to us easier than any other species, because of who we are. Who we were. The blood of Elves cannot be extinguished, and it calls out even after untold millennia. That which shall never fade.”
Ceria Springwalker	“I did. But we have a part of that in us, Ceria. Remember? Just a part, but that means in time, any spell holding you will fail. If I tried to put you to sleep with a spell, eventually you would wake up.”
Ceria Springwalker	“Really. But don’t you go letting people cast spells on you, Ceria. And don’t think this makes you better than the Human children. Don’t go near them. You can play with the others in the stream now.”
Ceria Springwalker	“No. I have work to do. Just try to remember, won’t you, Ceria? You’re the only family I have left.”
Ceria Springwalker	“Remember, Ceria.”
Ceria Springwalker	Ceria spoke the words aloud. And then she woke up.
Ceria Springwalker	It was dark. That was all Ceria saw. But in the instant where she was not quite dreaming any longer, and not quite awake, it almost felt like she was dreaming still. The half-Elf tried to move her legs and turn her head, searching for her great grandmother.
Ceria Springwalker	And then she woke up further, and Ceria felt other sensations flooding in. The first was taste.
Ceria Springwalker	Taste. Ceria could taste vomit in her mouth, sour and vile. It was dried and made her gag—and she tasted blood as well. Ceria dry-heaved and scrabbled at her side reflexively. She had a flask of water—
Ceria Springwalker	Taste. Ceria could taste vomit in her mouth, sour and vile. It was dried and made her gag—and she tasted blood as well. Ceria dry-heaved and scrabbled at her side reflexively. She had a flask of water—
Ceria Springwalker	No. She didn’t. And that was when the other feelings hit Ceria at once. She was hungry. In pain. Bleeding? No—but she could feel dried blood on her left shoulder, and cold air on her lower body. In fact…she was naked from the waist down. That was to say, she had her mage’s robes on, but someone had taken her pants.

“We are fragments of the past, Ceria Springwalker. That is all we are.”

Ceria sat on her great-grandmother’s lap and looked up. The small cottage was covered in hanging herbs, braids of garlic—every time she breathed in, a myriad of spices tickled her nose. She sneezed, and her great-grandmother sighed.

Ceria Springwalker

Ceria shifted. Her seat wasn’t that comfortable—her great-grandmother was too bony, and she was holding the young half-Elf tightly in case she slipped away, which is what Ceria wanted to do. She hated questions like these.

Ceria Springwalker

Ceria shifted. Her seat wasn’t that comfortable—her great-grandmother was too bony, and she was holding the young half-Elf tightly in case she slipped away, which is what Ceria wanted to do. She hated questions like these.

Ceria Springwalker

An impatient sigh—Ceria felt her ear tips being flicked and she hunched over sulkily.

Ceria Springwalker

Chastened by the threat, Ceria sat as still as possible, trying not to move. She heard a quiet sigh from above.

Ceria Springwalker

“You’re too young. But someone has to tell you and those prideful fools would never speak of this. Ceria, the truth is that after all these long years, our people probably have only a drop of Elven blood in our veins. Only a drop, the smallest fraction of fractions. Only that. We aren’t half-Elves. Not even close.”

Ceria Springwalker

The news didn’t disappoint Ceria, because she didn’t fully understand.

Ceria Springwalker

“Again, not quite. Do you want to know something interesting, Ceria?”

Ceria Springwalker

Another sigh, but this time Ceria didn’t receive a flick to the ear.

Ceria Springwalker

“The interesting thing is that this is always true, Ceria. No matter how many generations pass, a half-Elf with a thousand Human parents on one side will always produce a half-Elf child. No matter what.”

Ceria Springwalker

Ceria’s doubtful reply elicited the first laughter from her great-grandmother she’d heard in a long time. The old half-Elf stroked Ceria’s hair gently.

Ceria Springwalker

Ceria’s doubtful reply elicited the first laughter from her great-grandmother she’d heard in a long time. The old half-Elf stroked Ceria’s hair gently.

Ceria Springwalker

“It might not seem like much to you yet, but it is something to remember. We are mostly Human, for all the others like to pretend we’re so much better. All we have is a drop of our heritage, Ceria. But it’s enough.”

Ceria Springwalker

“Enough. What runs in our veins is a fragment of what we were. An echo of legends past. But it is pure magic in our blood, Ceria. The purest. Even Dragons bowed to Elves as masters of magic. And though the Elves are gone, we remain. It is in our natures; magic. It comes to us easier than any other species, because of who we are. Who we were. The blood of Elves cannot be extinguished, and it calls out even after untold millennia. That which shall never fade.”

Ceria Springwalker

“I did. But we have a part of that in us, Ceria. Remember? Just a part, but that means in time, any spell holding you will fail. If I tried to put you to sleep with a spell, eventually you would wake up.”

Ceria Springwalker

“Really. But don’t you go letting people cast spells on you, Ceria. And don’t think this makes you better than the Human children. Don’t go near them. You can play with the others in the stream now.”

Ceria Springwalker

“No. I have work to do. Just try to remember, won’t you, Ceria? You’re the only family I have left.”

Ceria Springwalker

“Remember, Ceria.”

Ceria Springwalker

Ceria spoke the words aloud. And then she woke up.

Ceria Springwalker

It was dark. That was all Ceria saw. But in the instant where she was not quite dreaming any longer, and not quite awake, it almost felt like she was dreaming still. The half-Elf tried to move her legs and turn her head, searching for her great grandmother.

Ceria Springwalker

And then she woke up further, and Ceria felt other sensations flooding in. The first was taste.

Ceria Springwalker

Taste. Ceria could taste vomit in her mouth, sour and vile. It was dried and made her gag—and she tasted blood as well. Ceria dry-heaved and scrabbled at her side reflexively. She had a flask of water—

Ceria Springwalker

Taste. Ceria could taste vomit in her mouth, sour and vile. It was dried and made her gag—and she tasted blood as well. Ceria dry-heaved and scrabbled at her side reflexively. She had a flask of water—

Ceria Springwalker

No. She didn’t. And that was when the other feelings hit Ceria at once. She was hungry. In pain. Bleeding? No—but she could feel dried blood on her left shoulder, and cold air on her lower body. In fact…she was naked from the waist down. That was to say, she had her mage’s robes on, but someone had taken her pants.

Chapter 3.07 H

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