The Adventures of an Elf and His Naga: P.3 2017

To say, in the least, even with the spirits on their side the probability of mass panic did not drop all too much. 

The first few moments they were in the village it was quite alright. At the outreaches of the property, Phlich was busy chattering about everything he possibly could about his village. He was sure to point out when they had technically entered the property and was quick to point out the sure signs of elfin settlements. 

He went into a whole slew of details when Marcus slithered by some very noticeable agricultural land; with many tended berry bushes, vegetable patches, and quite a few pens of rabbits. 

At the sight of the rabbits, Marcus felt his mouth fill with drool. 

"–Yeah, so the summer months are pretty important because it's the only prime time we have to grow all of our food. When the summer ends we always had this huge harvest festival–dancing, feasting, singing, everything. After that we dry as much food as we can for the winter months–" Philch was going on autopilot with a huge smile on his face. 

Marcus was completely sidetracked by the rabbits in their neat pens. He put a hand on his empty middle and moaned a little. 

"–Of course it can be a little difficult to dry entire pumpkins, so we make a lot of pies and whatnot for the fall months. Everyone always gets super sick of pumpkins real quick. The seeds though, wait, Marcus? Are you even listening to me?" Philch got the hint when a glob of drool actually started to drip out the corner of Marcus' mouth. 

"Huh- Uh- Yeah, yeah. Pumpkins." The naga shook his head trying to distract his simple-minded thoughts away from those fat and juicy hares... 

"You're pitiful." The elf only scowled and leaned over the naga's forehead to glare at him. "And no, you can not eat the rabbits. Those are our versions of horses. Years of specific breeding–"

The growling of Marcus' stomach cut the elf off mid-sentence. The elf only frowned more and the naga cringed a smile and blushed in embarrassment. "Hey, I told you I hadn't eaten. It's not my fault my stomach is empty." He tried to shrug off the elf's disapproving eyeballs. 

"Yeah, well, tell your gastric organ to shut it for an hour or two. That, or eat some of those apples I gave you and call it a day." The elf receded back up to the top of the naga's head crisscross applesauce. 

"Yeah, about those..." Marcus became very interested in the hem of his shirt suddenly. "Nagas don't exactly... Eat fruit..." He muttered. 

Philch was silent for a long moment, and Marcus half believed he hadn't heard him until he sighed. "For some reason, I suspected that... Just had to be some pitfall." He muttered, his tone suggesting he was rolling his eyes. "Oh, I'll think of something later. Maybe I could get a squirrel or a raccoon–"

The sound of a startled gasp from one of the vegetable patches caught the pair's attention. Both naga and elf stilled in unison to look over. 

A female elf working nearby in a patch of strawberries was pale and rigid, having dropped the berry she had been loading into a rabbit drawn cart, to stare at the two wide-eyed. 

"Penelope?" Philch said, almost as surprised as the she-elf. 

The elf didn't move a muscle, only dart her eyes up and down Marcus while more blood drained out of her face. Her rabbit reacted the same, ears standing erect and nose twitching in worry. 

"Should I do something?" Marcus whispered through the corner of his mouth while looking at the elf. 

"Uh, no, no, just keep walking," Philch muttered back and gave Marcus a small pat on the forehead. 

Marcus blinked once or twice at the elf who was still frozen before slowly slithering out of her line of sight. He couldn't help feel the sudden sinking feeling in his belly. What were they thinking? He couldn't be here–in a village of elves! He felt the flutter of panic rising in his chest. "Philch, we should leave." 

"What? No! We've already come this far." The elf flung himself to look the naga eye to eye over his forehead. "Penelope has always been a skittish scaredy cat. That's... That's nothing." But Marcus could tell deep within the elf's eyes he was worried too.  

"That was a single elf–but a village? They'll... They'll come at me with pitchforks or something."

"Marcus, that's ridiculous." Philch huffed immediately. "They would run away as fast as they could in the other direction before resulting in an angry mob." 

Marcus paled and swallowed down the lump of worry just looking at his elf friend with widening eyes. 

"That was a joke." Philch forced a smile. "There's nothing to worry about." He followed with. "You're just a big teddy bear after all. They'll love you." 

"Philch- I don't know-"

"And, my parents need to meet you. It's best to do it here, where they are safe and happy. They've already heard so much about you–they've already welcomed you into the family. There's... There's no reason to worry." Philch smiled a little more genuinely before ducking back out of view onto Marcus' head. 

The naga didn't want to go forward, but he made himself–for Philch's sake. After all, Marcus didn't know a lot about Philch, or his family, or his past. How long had Philch been away from home? At least five months, for that, was as long as the elf had been with Marcus. But how long before then? When was the last time he saw his parents?  

Marcus was still slithering forward silently in the forest, past the farming outskirts and towards which he could start to see was a village. Some of the trees had elf-sized doors at their roots and little neat windows carved into the bark. The pine needle and leafy floor became a raked and neat dirt path running in the middle of these settlement houses. 

Yet with the houses, there were more elves. 

A lot more elves. 

At the small-sized carts of goods along the roads, elves stopped their shopping to stare at the creature who was slithering down their road and the elf sitting upon his head of brown hair. 

Marcus forced himself to try to look friendly and harmless. Yet, even if he smiled there were fangs in his grin, and he was physically a killing machine– "Just, smile and think happy thoughts," Philch whispered upon his head. So that left Marcus smiled through closed lips awkwardly while one of his eyes showed clear panic and had started to get a nervous twitch. 

He forced himself onward, passing more elves as they went who stopped and went as still as statues. Women, men, and children alike stopped their daily lives to stare. Some tried to pull inside their homes, slowly trying not to draw attention, and locked their doors and pull their shades. Those left on the street or shopping vendors for goods simply went still as if Marcus would be unable to see them if they did not move. 

Philch was busy still steering him in the right direction down the street, towards what must have been his own home. The elf tugged on tufts of Marcus' hair, right to go right or left to go left, and the naga found his way. 

"Happy thoughts... Happy thoughts..." Philch was muttered to himself, also smiling a little bit too much. "Are... Are you actually sweating?" The elf looked at his palm, wet his naga sweat. 

Nagas rarely sweat, after all, their body temperatures were low and they depended on the temperature of their environment–so they were usually too cold to need to sweat. For them, to produce perspiration, they had to either be extremely hot or extremely nervous. 

Marcus felt a drop of sweat roll down his forehead and he let out a nerved laugh–which probably didn't help the situation. "Philch– I am freaking out–" He spoke through clenched teeth while trying to keep his lips from moving under the terrified stares of so many elves. 

The naga noticed a pair of elves on the backs of rabbits, dressed in a sort of uniform, with long needle-like swords at their hips. That pair not only started at him, they glared. 

Marcus knew what one of those swords could do to a naga like himself, after all, Philch had a sword like that and had been taught what he could do to an enemy naga. One of those in the neck... Or in the stomach... Or–

"Down there, on the left." The elf spoke quickly, and if Marcus didn't know it the elf was nervous too. The naga obeyed and found himself before a proud White Oak with its own little door and windows.

Without warning the elf started clambering down from his seat on the naga's head to his shoulder and down his shirt to drop to the dirt road. He ran ahead and motioned for Marcus to wait a second before the tree. 

The elf seemed to take a deep and shaky breath steadying himself before the door and raising his knuckles to knock. 

And Marcus could have sworn his friend whispered under his own breath; "Well, here goes nothing."