"Well, yes," Mericlou said, already nervous about where the conversation was headed. "But I haven't saved your life."

"Details, details," Aldrec said flippantly. "And everyone knows that it's only a legend anyway; it doesn't mean we can't have a little fun with it, right? So here's the game: If you can guess my age, then I'll buy you a gift. And it can be anything you want, anything your heart desires."

"Anything?" Mericlou asked suspiciously. "Are you absolutely sure you want to do that? I can imagine some very expensive things."

"Anything," Aldrec said with a slight nod. "And you can try as many times as you like; how about that?"

"As many times as I want?" Mericlou said thoughtfully. "It doesn't sound like much of a game, then. More like you're practically giving it away."

"Maybe," Aldrec said evasively, "and maybe not. Perhaps I like the sport of it all."

"Can I try it now?" Mericlou asked after a moment of thought.

"Fire away."

"Two hundred?"

"No."

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"Three Hundred?"

"Sorry."

"Three hundred and fifty?" "Uh-uh."

***

"By the maker!" Alaema hissed in consternation. Was talking all they did?

She leaned herself roughly up against the blood oak's narrow trunk and sulked. Finally, the elf shows his face, and nothing happens! Oh, it was obvious that they liked each other a little; she had never seen her sister blush so much in one hour. And the elf's face seemed to maintain a crimson glow of its own as they talked.

"This is so boring," Alaema sighed as she melted back into the forest to find something more interesting to occupy herself with.

Oh well, she thought. Perhaps tomorrow will be different.

***

But it was no different.

Neither was the day after, or the day after that one. As a matter of fact, the elf had visited Meri for a week straight, and there had not been so much as a peck on the cheek between the two. The only thing that ever happened between them was their infuriating idle chatter. Meri would tell him about what happened the previous day, and Aldrec -Meri was on a first name basis with the elf at least- would listen patiently, and then talk to her. Usually, his side of the conversation would consist of either that asinine age-guessing game that Meri still failed to win, or just more of his boring history lessons. The only time she found his historical lectures even marginally interesting was when he finished his lecture about how the Dwarven wars led to the race's extinction. She found the notion of this place being his "garden of memories" to be very romantic.




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