Magic Elf in an Erogame

I stared at a delicate hand. It was unmarred by labor. No doubt, this hand had rarely seen the outside world. It was the pristine hand of a lady. I pressed the hand to my chest, feeling the heartbeat of this foreign body. Ba-dump, ba-dump, it beat slowly. My chest rose with every inhale. A warm breath flowed from my nose. The anxious lump rested it my stomach. There was no denying it.

“This is real.” The small voice became my new companion. Inside this petite body, the only sounds that would escape were equally small.

I clenched my teeth together. All of these sensations proved true. The scent of grass floated around me. There was another indiscernible metallic scent mixed in. My pointed ears picked up the rustle of plants near me. As a test I put my finger to my tongue. There was a light taste of sand and salt.

My eyes wandered around. There were no signs of civilization, except for a broken crate. On the ground, there was a box busted open with a white net inside. What caught my eye was a glint inside of the net.

Weak legs carried me towards the box. My arms struggled to hoist the net, but I was able to lift it out of the way.

“A sword?”

Though it was a short sword, lifting it required both hands. I struggled to turn the sword sideways, but I managed. The sword shined back my reflection in the dim sunlight.

Deep purple jewels reflected a gorgeous face. She looked curiously at herself, and she squinted at the reflection. Her small nose twitched along with the occasional twitch of her ears. Her small pink lips remained neutral.

There was an aura of elegance in her face. Her face was sculpted as if by a God’s design. Of course, I could only scoff at the thought. Since I was the one who sculpted it.

I took a deep breath and observed the sharp edge of the sword. It held cracks and seemed brittle. The tip of the sword confirmed it, since the entire end was broken off. At least the small leather-wrapped hilt could fit my two tiny hands.

“Is there even a use for a broken sword? I selected a mage, right?” The voice gave me pause once again, but I focused on more important bits. My surroundings were clear, so I was safe for now.

I thought of bringing up a status screen, but nothing happened. I thought of bringing up an inventory. Still nothing. Even when I said the words out loud, they wouldn’t come to me.

Once again, I brought the sword closer to my face, taking a whiff of it. “No, it’s different!”

My heart bumped louder in my ears. I scanned my surroundings more carefully. I knew I couldn’t sit there forever. Besides the obvious need of food and water, there was that unmistakable metallic scent.

I followed my nose to a spot behind the box. On a tree branch there was a leaf stained with dried red. I put my nose closer, and there was no mistaking that scent. It was heavy and filled with iron. The terrifying scent of blood.

Despite knowing the potential danger, I continued forward. More drops of blood painted trees and shrubs. The further I walked, the heavier the scent became. After following the trail of blood, I came upon a road. There was a rough cobble road extending in two directions.

Two dead horses lay in front of a turned carriage. Flint arrows protruded from their limp bodies. Flies had just started to gather around them. They couldn’t have been dead for long.

But it didn’t make sense. How would a trail of blood lead into the forest from here? None of it made sense really. Even me being in this other world didn’t make sense. If I was in a city, I felt like I could freak out, but doing that now felt like a death sentence.

I was about to walk out and investigate the carriage when the figures of two men appeared on the other side of the road. I crouched down even lower to hide myself in the weeds. I almost dropped the damnable sword because of my weak arms.

A tall and muscular man with black hair wore brown leather armor. His arms were mostly laid bare, and they were as thick as a log. A great sword was strapped to his back, and bandoliers adorned his waist, hiding potential dangers at his sides.

He leaned down and put his hand on the horse’s shoulder. His eyes scanned over the corpse. The man sighed. “It has to be bandits.”

The other—more scholarly man—was draped in a thick white robe. He had a giant black staff that touched the floor when he walked, seemingly acting as a cane for the old man. He regarded the situation with mild interest.

“I’m more concerned with the contents of the carriage,” the scholar said. “If the bandits made out with everything, it might be hopeless.”

The other man nodded and moved towards the mostly broken and turned over carriage. He climbed up the side towards a smashed hole in the roof and dug around for a while.

He looked at the scholar. “I am sorry, old man. There doesn’t seem to be anything.” He put a pondering hand to his chin covered in a light shadow of hair. “Can’t you scan the area?”

My heart pounded even louder. Ba-dump, ba-dump, I thought of running. But I couldn’t even turn around fast enough.

The old man sighed and pointed his staff directly at me. “There’s one watching us. Right there.”

The younger man began pulling out his great sword and raised his voice in my direction. “You will come out slow, if you know what’s good for you.”

My body shivered, but I obeyed his command, leaving the safety of the thistles. The morning sun warmed my body as I exited.

The young man gasped. “An elf!?”

Both of them stared a hole into me with widened eyes. I wanted to do nothing more than run away, but their gazes froze me on the spot. The thumping of my heart would not relent. I was a man before, right? So, why? Why can’t I even face this?

I clenched my teeth and lifted my brittle sword towards them. “Don’t come close!”

The younger man put his sword on his back, raising a palm towards me. “Wait a minute! You speak common, right?”

“C-common?”

“Yes, common,” he said as he inched closer. “I promise, I won’t hurt you. Can you understand?”

His face lightened the closer he got. It reminded me of someone trying to beckon a cat with “here, kitty, kitty.” The closer he got, the more I wanted to run, but these were the first two people I met. I used the last remaining guts I had from being a man and dropped my sword on the ground, taking the plunge into uncertainty.

He smiled and looked into my eyes, lowering himself and putting his hands on my shoulders. “Good, my name’s Olaf. What’s your name?”

I felt my heart return to equilibrium. It was like a small weight was taken off my shoulders. There was no desire for me to be in a potentially dangerous forest, and these two could potentially lead me towards civilization.

“Your name?” Olaf repeated when I didn’t immediately answer.

“I-I’m Sarah.”

The man nodded. “Sarah, is it? Good.” He grinned and pointed his thumb towards the old man. “This old goat is called Fimbly.”

Fimbly whacked Olaf over the head with his staff. “Who’re you calling an old goat? Also, I am not so old that I can’t introduce myself.” The old man huffed. “Kids these days have no respect for their elders.”

Olaf rubbed his head and laughed before turning back to me. “Are you out here all alone, Sarah? There’s a city just north of…”

Another whack to his head cut him off. “You damn fool. This is not a small matter. You said it yourself. She’s an elf. Taking her to the city could be a disaster.”

“Um…” I struggled at forming words with Olaf’s eyes piercing into me. I was glad he noticed as he seemed to look away. What could I even say? I wanted to go to the city. Surely, it would be safer? But the more I tried to speak, the more my heart pounded. What the fuck is this!? Am I a grade-schooler!? I wanted to punch myself. Just ask if you are a man! You’re not a kid!

“It’s best if we leave her in the forest,” Fimbly said. “We don’t know her background, and you know how this kingdom is. They’d sooner try to make her a slave.”

Olaf shook his head. “I am against that.”

Fimbly whacked him again with his staff. “Then what would you do, fool?”

Olaf angrily rubbed his head and looked back at me. “That depends on her. Do you want to stay out here? You can understand, right?”

“I don’t want to stay.”

Olaf smiled. “See, old man?”

Fimbly grumbled but turned towards the north. “I don’t care what you do. If you get caught, I have no idea who you are.”

“Gimme the backpack,” Olaf said.

“You can’t be serious. Whatever…” Fimbly reached into a swirling purple portal and pulled out a ginormous rucksack.

Olaf looked at me and smiled wryly. “Can you climb inside of this?”

By the middle of my first day in an unknown world I had become luggage.