Natasha the Halve

An Elixir of Rejuvenation later, the pain went away and the muscles on my back loosened.

“Two much Strength and not enough Constitution,” Lapia pointed out with worry. Her fingers pinched and prodded my shoulders, trying to massage the muscles underneath.

I nodded, the feeling of my muscles tightening around my bones still fresh in my mind. “Better to know the limit before it matters,” I replied, agreeing with her.

The removal of the tree brought sunlight back to the land, dispelling the perpetual dim twilight we had been in for the last hours. It had also probably removed a landmark for life in the swamp and the surrounding forest, but I would bet having the suns as orientation was more important in the long run.

Trees looked greener, the ground browner, and the wind picked up, spreading smells both gentle and nasty.

“How full is your storage now?” she asked with curiosity, moving her fingers to my neck.

I produced a water bottle and took a sip. “I have 11.9 trillion gold coins, Lapia. That tree changed nothing.”

The Elf raised her eyebrows in doubt. “Not even a one percent change?” She insisted.

“You can feel such a small change?” I inquired in confusion.

“Mine is smaller so I can,” she replied with a pensive look.

I hummed and stretched. “I did feel the tree go in and settle, but there wasn't a feeling similar to that one percent thing.”

“Could you check?” Lapia requested, looking into my eyes with serious ones.

“Research?” I asked for clarification.

She nodded.

I closed my eyes and dove into myself.

The Storage concept felt the exact same as usual, not even a one percent of difference.

Opening my eyes I shook my head. “Not even like a drop in the ocean,” I informed her.

The Elf whistled in amazement. “Your storage must be absolutely massive,” she commented.

“Not the only massive thing I have, keke,” I joked, winking an eye at her.

Lapia smiled and chuckled. “Good one,” she praised.

I giggled and picked her up, then walked out of the tree stump. “Let's get rid of the last bit and go back.”

“Sounds good to me,” Lapia agreed with a nod.

I put her down and faced the remnants of the tree, then produced my spear from my storage and got to cutting the roots.

The process was fast and easy. The state of the wood, however, made the process unnecessarily troubling. Fungi broke off the bark and floated in the air in a fine dust that smelled like corpses rotting in summer, which meant a slight change of plans.

After cutting the last root I turned to Lapia, who was wearing a green hazmat suit. The sight was so out of place I burst in laughter.

“What?” she demanded, her muffled voice making it funnier. “Do I look that silly?”

I gave her a thumbs up. “You do. Do your thing now.”

The Elf sighed, produced her staff, and hit the butt on the ground.

The stump shook for a second, then dislodged out of the ground.

I walked to it and pushed it up, then sent it into my storage. “We're finally done.”

Lapia sighed loudly, then cursed in Elvish. Fire consumed my sight for a few seconds, raising the temperature a few hundred degrees. After the fire dissipated, Lapia harrumphed. “Die, parasites!” she cheered and stored the hazmat suit. “These clothes are surprisingly useful, but also incredibly unfashionable.”

“They are,” I agreed and stored mine. “Why did you burn the air, though?”

The Elf huffed and shook her head. “Parasitic fungi, Natasha. Need I say more?”

“Nope,” I replied, shaking my head.

A distant gasp of surprise caught my attention.

I turned to the source and my eyebrows almost fused with my hairline in surprise.

A good distance away, behind a tree and standing over two meters in height, a person was looking directly at us with wide eyes.

Reddish orange hair, dark brown skin where visible, whiskers on the cheeks, and two tall ears on top of the head. An elaborately embroidered poncho covered the body, but a fluffy tail could be seen sneaking from the back. The eyes that were looking at me with shock, surprise, and a little bit of fear were orange and had slit pupils.

Naturally, the first thing I did was appraise the individual.

[Tulmi Elf, Che'Kha La'Ti Lvl 203 – Un'ba Peu 193]

“Lapia,” I whispered, still looking at the Fox-Elf. “A Tulmi Elf is looking at us.”

Without moving, and with an uninterested voice, Lapia asked back, “What symbol is on the Ezh'de?”

I focused on the poncho and felt a little conflicted. “A tree,” I replied. “Shaped just like the one we removed.”

“Shit,” Lapia hissed, then gasped, “Ah, but you're a Halve. We'll live.”

The Tulmi Elf got down on all fours and ran away in the opposite direction, climbing trees and avoiding the swampy water.

“They ran away,” I informed Lapia.

The Domi Elf walked to me and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Okay. Time to be a Higher Being, Natasha,” she told me with very serious eyes. “The entire Clan will come, probably offended by the fact we removed the tree they worship since they wear it on the Ezh'de. Hopefully they know of your species and speak some sort of Elvish I can understand and speak.”

I gave her a confused look. “Why are you talking about them like they're ignorant?”

Lapia bit her lips. “They're self-isolated tribes, sunshine. They heavily reject modernity and technology, choosing a life of nature.”

I squinted my eyes in doubt. “Why?”

She shrugged. “There are more than enough reasons, but that doesn't matter right now.”

“Alright,” I agreed with a nod. “Should I be benevolent, tyrannical, strict, or what?”

Lapia smiled and pinched my cheeks. “Whatever you feel is right,” she replied.

I took a deep breath and sighed. Holy shit. I changed my clothes to my Eternium Starforged armor, braided my hair, and held my spear like a staff, pointing the blade upwards. This is fucking heavy!

Lapia changed to her everyday Ezh'de, retrieved her staff, and wore a turquoise bonnet.

I gave her a look and smile. “What's the hat for?”

“Elvish cultural symbol of being someone who spreads a God's legacy,” she explained, looking a little proud. “You could call it a teacher's badge.”

I nodded. “I see. You make it look good,” I praised with a smile.

“Thank you,” she replied, then quietly whispered, “I'm shaking a little.”

“Same,” I chuckled and turned to where the Tulmi Elf went off to.

A few minutes passed, and relief started to grow within me.

Hopefully they don't come, I thought with a sigh. Uncontacted tribes weren't on my list of things I wanted to meet.

The weave of fate, however, had other plans for me.

From the distance, around a hundred people showed up from between the trees, moving slowly and looking at us with wariness on their faces.

The collective wore simple clothes in the form of a poncho even though the weather was getting colder and colder as the Perihelion approached.

Their hairs were mostly pitch black with the odd dark brown. Their skin colors were similarly brown and tan. Each and every single one of them had tall ears on top of their heads, pointing at me and sometimes to each other whenever one of them said something.

As a Higher Being myself, it was my duty to receive the group and ease their worries as inhabitants of the planet I exist to protect. As such, I was machinating an explanation as to why the tree was removed. Simply telling them to accept it and move on was tyrannical at best.

Within the group of people I noticed children and elderly. The former was noticeable in their lack of classes and low levels, plus having very fine and barely visible whiskers on their faces. The latter had higher levels, and looked their age with graying hairs and wrinkled faces.

As was usual with Elves, differentiating the men and the women was hard as they all looked androgynous, plus the fact they wore no identifying clothes.

The Great Heavens Above had granted me the ultimate gift to deal with situations such as these: a resting bitch face. A perfect poker face when encountered with highly stressing situations was a good thing to have to convey calmness and confidence, hiding the nerves within.

At least they're not armed to the teeth, I concluded with ease in my mind.

When the group reached us, an old couple walked forward, looking at me with complicated emotions on their faces.

“Pazh ka'tal, Azh'avun,” the old man told me.

“Uzh unil, Azh'avun,” the old lady continued.

Relief washed over me at the words. I recognized some words Lapia had taught me, which meant the language was similar to Elvish, if not the exact same one.

Lapia sighed next to me. “They are greeting you as a Protector,” she translated. “He said welcome, and she said good afternoon.”

I nodded, looking at the two old Fox-Elves. “Greetings, mortals,” I said back.

Lapia was quiet for a long second, probably questioning my choice of words. She translated nonetheless.

I had to make an impression as a Higher Being, which meant stating the objective differences between us as Mortals and Eternal.