The Perfect Elf

Three gentle knocks alerted the short man of Grey's arrival. He smiled to himself spitefully as he slowly finished what he wrote. He gently placed his feather pen on the walnut desk, just before lazily creaking out of his chair to answer the impatient knocks against the pine. His smile faded as he saw two students at his door. One--the boy looking over his shoulder--he knew well. The other was a girl he was less familiar with, but the short man still recognized her.

"Ah Brown!" the short man greeted genially, overlooking the girl.

"Sir!" the boy answered as he faced the man. Brown had to tilt his head down to look at him properly. "I delivered the note to Grey, and he said he'd be here once Bales regains consciousness"

"Wonderful. Won't you come in?"

Brown walked in calmly, when the man stepped aside, and McAren followed sheepishly. The girl recognized the room, though it was a little more than a month since she'd been inside it. Just over a month. It seemed far longer to the girl, though not much has happened since she arrived. She remembered the short man that answered the door to be the same one who led four children around the school. The learning she's had since then told McAren he was a Dwarf.

"Shut the door, Miss McAren," the short man said less than kindly. As the girl turned with her hand on the door, she let out a quick gasp and slammed it shut. A loud and sharp thud! Hit the wood as McAren thrust her back to the other side and nervously smiled. Brown and the headmaster looked at her quizzically.

"Stellok's here," she answered in a voice higher than her own. A crack sounded from the door, and McAren flinched when she saw a metal point through the wood.

Just as Brown reached for a sword on an oaken shelf, voices rose on the other side of the pine. The sounds possessed an angered tone, but the words themselves seemed bright. It was a language no one in the small room knew. The words sparkled and danced from the speaker's mouth. Only a few words were spoken in this beautiful language, it seemed. McAren could pick up an English word here and there, but it was enough to understand who was talking, and what exactly he said.

"Didn't take long for--" McAren assumed the word was 'you' "--start"

"--Killed--Captain!"

"So?"

"--know -- --bound--do!" Stellok's frustrated voice answered. Grey must have made a gesture then, for the Drone simply growled out a "fine." His light, yet unmistakable, tread quieted as he walked away. Then, without a knock or warning, the door McAren leaned against thrust open, sending the poor girl staggering.

Grey strode in, with his hazel bow slung over his shoulder, and he calmly re-shut the door, the arrow still poking out of it. He smiled placidly as he turned to see the faces of three rather bewildered people. The headmaster seemed to recover quicker than the two students, for his face became sour and his eyebrows formed a scowl.

"Grey. You know that I don't allow you to bring weapons into this room!"

Grey, unabashed, simply retorted, "Yet you seem to have swords lining your walls anyway." He looked at the blade in Brown's hands as he spoke, but his eyes then moved to the girl. "Besides," Grey continued in a softer tone, "the bow isn't for me."

He removed it from his shoulder, and handed it to McAren, whose confusion deepened when Grey continued. "Keep this in your dorm room. You'll need it..."

"Why would I need it? It’s not like I'm in danger or--"A look of calm overshadowed the confusion as she took Grey's bow and muttered out, "he's trying to kill me, isn't he."

"That's absurd, child! No one's trying to--" the headmaster began incredulously. He was cut off by Grey clearing his throat.

"Actually... he is. It's a part of his culture. Actually it's a law..." Grey corrected wearily. He then explained that when an officer of the army is killed, any Drone--anywhere--is bound by law to destroy the killer. If a Drone is found to have let them go, then he would be tortured mercilessly, and he would be killed.

Eventually. "So, Miss McAren, I have some precautions for you. You cannot go around in the hallways when no one's there. You will be armed at all times, as well..."

The girl didn't seem to protest to anything, as they were sensible plans. That is, until Grey gave his grimmest order. "You must be around other people; you must stay in the school at all times, Miss McAren... you can't go to the lake. You must eat with the other students..."

She looked as if he had administered a death sentence, and she treated it as such. Her face became pale, her mouth opened, and her incredulous amber eyes widened at the injustice. McAren began to splutter out her frustration, but Grey shook his head and spoke over her.

"McAren! McAren, this is for your safety! You're vulnerable there! If he finds out, he might go and--"

"And I'll have a chance of survival! I can at least defend myself by the lake!"

Grey stopped and looked at the girl sympathetically. He knew what she was talking about. He saw this before, with a student he had long ago. The girl was not well-liked, and the reason was one of the most childish Grey had ever seen. And her situation would worsen now she got her first kill. Grey understood this all in a span of a breath. The headmaster and Brown still had no clue as to what McAren felt. Or would soon feel.

Somehow compelled to make them understand, she continued pleadingly. "I can stand a physical fight--one-on-one is even and fair! If I'm meant to survive, I'll survive. But an entire school against one... you might as well blindfold me and lead me to the slaughterhouse..." the girl's voice became quiet as she spoke. Her face became bittersweet as she bowed her head almost shamefully. "I've heard rumors about me before... they'll ask you if it's true, and then they'll laugh at you for saying it's not... they'll laugh until they get bored of it and then they'll just make another one up..."

The girl finished her plea, and the room was silenced and filled with each person's unsaid thoughts. The headmaster shifted his weight and glanced around impatiently. 'That's all fine and well. She still needs to be punished. She killed a captain! She should have thought of this beforehand; not after the fact!'

Similarly, Brown moved his eyes and body at her words. He was not impatient, but guilty. Only yesterday had he challenged her during that dreaded lunch hour.

"Miss McAren, I understand why you would be reluctant to stay inside," Grey began, using his calmed diplomatic voice. "and I'm sure you left a life like this, with hopes of something better, only to return to it... but this is far safer for you." he looked gently at her, but pity never shone through the deep blue.

Grey's eyes darted to the headmaster's door when a knock was heard. Stepping towards the pine, but not opening it or even making a movement to do so, Grey called out, "who's there?"

"Smythe! Open up!" came a muffled voice.

"Is anyone with you?" Grey still made no further movements towards the door.

"No. just me. And this sword you asked me to bring..."

Grey smiled at the headmaster's slight growl. The man opened the door, and Smythe walked in, quickly shutting the door behind him. The boy glanced around at the faces, and nodded a hello to the headmaster, Grey, and Brown. When he saw the girl, however, he doubled over in low bow, muttering a "thank you" to her.

"Um... you're welcome?" the girl replied, rather confused at the action. Smythe straightened up, and smiled at McAren. She smiled back politely, and asked, "What am I being thanked for?"

"For having kick ass aim," Smythe answered simply. He smiled when the girl seemed to have forgotten the fight.

"Don't swear, Smythe," Grey reminded darkly. At Smythe's questioning gesture to the sword he delivered, Grey pointed towards the girl. Smythe handed the sheathed weapon and belt to McAren, who saw it was her own. She smiled down at the large crack in her weapon's hilt fondly.

By now, the headmaster was nearly shaking with a mixture of anger and impatience. 'That was a dirty trick, bringing Smythe in. Who's head of this school, anyway? Him or me?'

"Grey, why did you ask him to come here? The real reason, if you please," he said aloud, barely able to control himself.

"Two reasons," the teacher answered. His voice was calm, but his eyes turned cold as they calculated the thoughts behind his question. "One, McAren needed her sword for the first part of her protection; and two, this issue involves Smythe as well as McAren. You’re probably inclined to act on what happened earlier, but Smythe ultimately has right to punish her, if he sees it to be right."

The Dwarf's face became sour, and he glared malevolently at Grey. Smythe's face, however, bore only an expression of stark indignance.

"Punished?! Why? For the captain thing? No! Why the hell would--"

"Don't swear!"

"Would she be punished? We've had to kill soldiers before! Why should it be different now?" Smythe spoke quickly, but he switched from one train of thought to the next even swifter. His eyes scorched the headmaster as he scowled at the dwarf. Mustering his defiance, the short man tried to answer calmly.

"The weaponry course was designed to teach self-defense. There's been too many deaths to all be made for protection... punishment needs to be enforced." The headmaster thought he had made a reasonable point. But he hadn't all of the information.

"But, sir," Brown began, causing the headmaster to think quickly. Brown, who normally was trapped beneath the Dwarf's thumb, contradicted his leader. "We've all had to kill before... and today's no exception. Murphy and Morris got one; Annord had another; Kelliey got double teamed--they're both dead; and I even had to do severe damage to one! All of these were either in self-defense, or in the midst of protecting other students. Do you plan to punish us all too? And if you did plan to, why was McAren only called?" The boy, who had been sitting on a table, slipped down and folded his arms across his chest.

While the headmaster stewed in his stuttering, Grey spoke to the boy.

"Did they take her with them?" Grey asked, referring to the wounded Drone.

"No, they left her. When Kelliey and I approached her," Brown answered with slight bewilderment, "she tried to eat this weird berry... but we pried it from her..."

"'weird berry'? What weird berry?" Grey wondered.

"I don’t know, but we put it on your desk after we took the She-Drone to Lady Andrienne... she's tending to the Drone now," Brown returned swiftly.

He knew Grey wanted information of that sort to be delivered concisely. Grey still worked to find out the reasons why. Why did the Drones attack the school so early this year? Why have they authorized their captain to harm a few of the students? Why did they go for Smythe and Kelliey?

A quiet voice came through the questions. And then a bark of his name in anger.

"Grey! Quit your daydreaming!" The dwarf continued in a muttered tone, "If you weren't such a nuisance, I wouldn't know you were here..."

"And if you did your job," Grey muttered softly in rebuttal, "I wouldn't need to be 'daydreaming'..."

The air became very strained by the two men, to the point where all three students became unified in their uncomfortable glances. One of the glances towards Grey and the headmaster showed McAren that they were trying to stare each other down like dogs would. "Look," the girl began, putting her hands on her hips in a distinctly mother-like fashion. "Do we need to separate you two?"

Not used to her, the headmaster scowled up at her, clenching his jaw slightly. Grey, however, turned to McAren. In a childish tone he answered, "yes, mommy!"

Already expecting that sort of answer from the jubilant man, the three students laughed happily, thankful that he took the girl's bait. Joining the children's merriment, Grey's face brightened from the day's difficulties. Though the students and Grey appeared to relax, the headmaster was not pleased. Not by any stretch of even the wildest imagination.

"Grey, they must be punish--"

"For doing what they're meant to do? No. they mustn't. Especially when not all of the 'perpetrators' are present," Grey added coolly, his mirth-filled eyes dulling in seriousness.

'Who's headmaster--him or me?'

Encouraged by his thought, the headmaster boldly argued his position. "An example must be--"

"No it mustn't. Not by McAren, at any rate. If anyone has right to use protection as an excuse, she does." Smythe began to nod his head rapidly, and the girl was surprised to see Brown agreeing as well. Grey continued talking with the headmaster, explaining that he was a witness. McAren took the opportunity to ask the boy her question.

"You agree with Grey?" the girl whispered, so as not to disturb the discussing men; but, when Brown answered, he spoke with enough volume so the headmaster could hear.

"Lady Chaston told me what happened. Besides, McAren, for all the things I think you are, a murderer isn't one of them." The boy grinned bitterly at her and continued, with the room concentrating on him. "Though, I don't think passing out was the right course of action."

McAren's face was pale one second and scarlet the next. She lowered her eyes and muttered out her shame. Smythe, who stood next to the girl and could decipher what she said, stepped away from her to speak at normal volume.

"Weakness?! Oh please! McAren, that's not a sign of weakness! None of us escaped fainting on our first kill!" he said incredulously.

"You fainted?" she asked, clearly not believing him.

"Yeah... I blew chunks, too," Smythe answered with a slight cringe.

The Brown decided to add his own anecdote. "I didn't pass out," he said, sitting back on the table he was on earlier. Smythe gave him a hard look.

"You locked yourself in your dorm room and no one saw you for a week," the boy reminded him darkly. Brown had a tinge of pink in his cheeks, and Smythe's tale wasn't finished. He turned to the girl and continued, "Grey got fed up with his absences, so we had to go--erm--fetch him..."

McAren's eyebrows rose. She saw the crimson of Brown, and she saw Grey turning towards the wall with his hand over his smile. The headmaster's face hadn't moved from its blank anger. Once again, his control over the room was stripped from him.

'Who's headmaster--him or me?!'

Grey finally composed himself, and began to lead his students. With a final push, Grey reminded the Dwarf that McAren would be armed, and no one that participated in battle would be punished. Unobtrusively ushering the three out of the headmaster's small office, the teacher bid his goodbye. Because classes were lengthened due to the attack, Smythe and Brown made their trek back to Grey's room. McAren was behind them a ways, for multitasking was a weakness of hers. She tried to buckle her sword-belt while walking with Grey's old bow over her shoulder.

With the bow slipping to her elbow, she fumbled with the leather belt. Grey stayed back with her, fascinated by her difficulty and her reluctance to ask for help.

"Need any--"

"I got it, thanks," she answered, not looking up from her waist. She stopped, replaced the bow over her shoulder, and continued her battle with her sword-belt.

"I've seen five-year-olds do this, McAren," Grey told her with amusement in his eyes.

"Oh, bite me."

He let out a sigh in mock annoyance, and he took the belt in his hand to tie it. He put the leather through the buckle, and secured it at the smallest notch, as well as tying the belt into a knot.

When Grey let go, the belt and sword slipped down her waist, across her small hips, and it crashed onto the wooden floor. The two looked to the fallen blade, Grey with his brow slightly furrowed.

"You know, Grey," McAren began, "I've heard that five-year-olds can do this." The girl bent and retrieved her weapon and its belt. Grey pulled a small knife from his boot and made a new notch to fit McAren's body.

The pair walked through the school, back to Grey's classroom, which happened to be the farthest from where they were. As he and McAren talked about strategies and swordsmanship, he led her through corridors the girl hadn't seen. She looked around and found that she was lost. McAren stopped, and scowled at the unfamiliar walls.
They were blackened with soot and smelled faintly of burnt charcoal. The type of wood used was indiscernible, but McAren had a feeling that it wasn't the usual oak or pine. The girl voiced her wonderment by asking where they were.

"This is a shortcut, McAren," Grey answered, nudging the girl to continue walking. "No one uses this hallway anymore. Not since 1905, I think. Yeah... it was the year before I started working here... this was a hallway for one more race's dorm, but our dear headmaster," he added, unable to keep bitterness from his voice, "decided to not include them."

"Which was it?"

He gave a calculating glace to the girl. "Ask me again in a month." At the girl's confused nod, Grey finished. "Because no one boards here, the walls became rotten, the floors are infested with termites, and this entire area has become dilapidated...One year, a brilliant group of students even decided to 'exterminate' the rats here by burning them, as you can see."

"Why didn't he include them, the other race? Was there a war or conflict or something?" the girl asked in an attempt to understand the headmaster's authority.

"No. there wasn't." Grey answered shortly.

"Then why--"

"I'd like to tell you, but I don't speak ill of my boss."

The girl nodded compliantly, and decided to stop bothering the man. The darkened, windowless corridor turned sharply and ended in a burst of torchlight. McAren had been examining where she walked. Naturally, she didn't see Grey quickly bow his head as they moved. She blinked rapidly, squinted, and made every attempt at shielding her eyes. The girl hadn't realized the hallway was so dark compared to the rest of the school.

"Grey! How the hell'd you beat us?" came Smythe's voice through the torchlight.

"Don't swear! I hear another foul word come out of your mouth, you'll do ten pushups for each letter!" the man shouted back. Grey strode ahead quickly, and opened the door that was his.

"Bright?" Smythe asked the girl who tried to wander after the teacher.

"Only a little," McAren answered lightly.

"So. Do you think he meant it?"

The girl grinned mischievously. "There's only one way to find out! What's the biggest one you can think of?"

Smythe returned her smile and gave a mysterious "you'll see."

As they passed through Grey's door, Smythe added, "bad luck about your lunch and break hours... I could talk to Ainé, if it'll help." His face was sympathetic but McAren still refused.

"Nah, I'll be fine. Just need to suck it up, is all."

He nodded, trusting the girl's own judgment. As they joined the rest of the class, a silence followed the door's click shut. For the third time this year, all of Grey's class was staring at McAren. She froze where she stood, acting as if she was an animal in shock.

"Guys!" Grey cried in exasperation, "It's McAren! It's nothing special!"

The girl looked at him with a slight scowl, and moved from her stillness to her chair. With a quick glance around the room, she saw that a certain Drone was absent.