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3. Oarus

3

OARUS

“Nobody around,” I confirm to myself. “Good.”

I look over my shoulder, double checking again that no one can see us entering the caverns. The human woman and I disappear inside along with the sunlight. It only filters in through small holes in the walls from here on out.

The hum of the ocean washing ashore slowly fades behind us.

Now, all that we hear is the low stream of water running through small canals nearby and the occasional dripping that echoes off the walls.

To an outsider, the drip might be maddening. But it centers me.

The caverns grow deeper as I venture further. I can see well enough, but even when it gets darker, I still expertly navigate the cave terrain.

The walls on either side are charcoal black with slicks of dark blue veins coursing through them. The occasional chirops flaps its wings along the wall, my only companions until today.

“Not long to go,” I tell the woman, whose head nearly slumps out of my grasp.

For the good of knowledge, she should be protected.

I am careful not to bump her off the walls or scrape her feet on stalagmites. I’m so concentrated on her that I don’t notice the upcoming stalactite until I knock my head against it, the impact bludgeoning me.

I rub my head and continue walking unimpeded.

The passages this deep underground are a labyrinth, perfect for keeping out unwanted company. At this level, I am comfortable. At this level, I do not have to repeatedly look over my shoulder for uninvited guests, keen to disrupt my study.

I step inside, greeted by the heartwarming sight that is my home. It’s a large space, and I’ve made good use of all that is available to me. One of the canal streams feeds into a pool here that I use for fresh drinking water.

I walk past some cabinets and shelves that I procured long ago from humans. On the top shelf is a glass jar with all of my human money inside of it. I collected it over the years, though I never had much of a reason to spend it.

“Perhaps you will have better use for it,” I jokingly tell my sleeping guest.

I acquired the majority of my goods through exchanging services with the humans. I’ve given plenty to them, parting with rare shellfish and underwater jewels. Humans love their riches. They are simple and easily manipulated.

I walk past the couch, remembering how much I contorted myself to bring it into this room without breaking it. In front of it is a fireplace that I built myself, having carved a passage for the smoke to rise out of cliffs, invisible to passersby above.

Peppered around are plenty of human books and oil lamps, some of which I see need fresh oil. The curtains are drawn, but there’s no real practical need for them down here. I just like the way they look.

I have a natural curiosity for the humans that dwell above, not cruel like the elves that linger and prey on the weak, but not strange like me.

I know it is the perfect place for the human woman to recover, away from danger and prying eyes. I only hope she finds a sense of familiarity here.

I walk past the kitchen, glancing at my cooking ware, trying to distract my eager hands from the prize that awaits. The gleam of the porcelain intrigues me, their deft hand movements in crafting it are so delicate and intricate.

I bring the woman to the bed, laying her down gently. The bedside cabinet holds all the essentials a human needs, so I need not worry about missing something.

She sinks into the mattress, made of the softest materials on Protheka. I get to work, cleaning her face of any stray debris.

I wipe off dirt and sand, carefully pulling any out of her sandy brown hair. It takes a while, as her hair is the same shade as sand, but I don’t mind. A creature this delicate is worth the time.

I use a human brush to comb her hair through. My technique seems proper as it does not snag. I tie her hair over her head to keep it out of the way as I move to her face.

“Marvelous,” I remark, spectating her sharp facial structure. I wipe her forehead, cheeks, and jaw clean so that I may touch her. I chuckle in delight as I run a finger along her jawline.

Prying her eyelids apart to check for hidden debris, I find myself stunned by her amber eyes. I have found plenty of raw amber material myself in my expeditions, but not even the real thing is as pure as the color surrounding her pitch-black pupils.

My heartbeat quickens from the rush of excitement flooding my body. Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I slowly continue. I want to take my time with her.

I snip off the front of her raggedy clothing with scissors, they seem to have gotten torn up in her escape from the dark elves. Her bare body is revealed to me.

Up until now, I have seen only pictures in books of a human vessel. Looking at her now, I wonder if they drew inspiration from her, for her form is somehow more perfect than the depictions I have seen.

I revel in her beauty. Her skin is smoother than silk and glistening with sweat. I hold my hand up, comparing my skin with hers, wondering if she’d find the same fascination in me.

I swallow hard as I bring my hand to rest on her chest, smiling when I feel her heart beating. Slowly, I trace my hand around the shape of her perfect breasts and down along the curves of her body.

My interest is piqued by the mere fact I’ve never seen a human woman this up close before. It takes a moment to snap myself back to reality and resume cleaning. I clean small spots of blood very gently.

On the top of her leg is a bruise, which I guess was the first part of her body to hit the water. Still, it doesn’t take away from her looks. She is far prettier than even the natural beauty of the caverns and land around us.

Once satisfied with her cleanliness, I quietly move away toward the closets. There, I have several human clothes stowed away. I wash and dry them to rid them of their old smell before carefully fastening them on her.

I take a step back from the bed, admiring both her and my handiwork. At the same time, I wonder what she went through.

“No doubt in my mind, you are a vulnerable creature,” I whisper. A sense of pride washes over me knowing I’m the one who has her now.

Then I’m hit with an epiphany. I know now why she has come into my arms, why I saved her and brought her into my home. This is a sign that she is rightfully mine, that fate has destined us to be together.

She is mine now, the mere fact stretching a grin across my face. As I watch her chest rise and fall with each breath, I notice her chest skin twitching with each heartbeat. My heart beats in synchronization with hers.

I take a seat, watching her as she sleeps. We are safe down here, but I uneasily guard my prize regardless. She is safe from prying hands and from danger. It’s even better knowing I’m the one who swept her away.

I can’t help but wonder about my time spent on this planet. I have lived for millennia, so long that I don’t know what age I am. I thought I’d seen it all.

But seeing her here now proves that wrong. I’ve never seen anything or anyone as beautiful as the woman on my bed.

I return to her side and pull the blanket up to her neck to ensure her warmth. Afterward, I stroke her face. She smiles faintly in her deep slumber.

I have heard stories of human women. Their temperaments are a mystery to me, and as I run my hand over her cheek, a twinge of excitement fills me, thrilled by the prospect of this pairing.

To her, I am surely a monster, not fit to breed with. But I have heard of human women who have paired with monsters. Echoes linger in times of their happiness, hidden by the biases of historians but decipherable through inference.

“What’s going to happen to my life, now that you’re here?” I ask her as she breathes deeply.

I don’t even know her name. I wonder what more there is to know about her, what stories she has to share with me, and what knowledge she can tell of her kind.

I turn my head around the room, regarding all the trinkets I’ve acquired over my incalculably long lifetime - broken relics buried in the corner - and I marvel that now I have somebody to provide a firsthand account.

What can she tell me that I cannot, having lingered in close proximity to creatures who fear me? Will she react to me as they do? I would hate for our first interaction to end in conflict. Such a beautiful specimen should be preserved, not destroyed.

I watch her eyes, waiting for the first remnants of sleep to lift, so that I may begin my long inquiry.

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