Datra–a small elven community tucked into the woods–rarely saw action. It was a safe haven for its inhabitants, elves and wild animals alike. Datra was located in a clearing, protected by the trees and the animals that roamed the wild. It was cozy–cottages, cracked stone paths, hand-painted signs and lanterns lit at the snap of a finger. It was unassuming. The fifty elves that took residence there were all born there, as they rarely saw outsiders, and they all knew each other like a tight knit family.
One of those elves: Felix.
The local baker. Also the unofficial medic for the children who didn’t want to be scolded for their ‘reckless’ adventures in the woods when they came back with scrapes.
Sunshine personified. He had a knack for making everybody he spoke to feel safe and seen. It was easy to be drawn to him. Often seen with an animal on his heel, asking for more treats.
Felix loved his life. The simpleness of it. He loved to bake for the community, to tend to the children who seemed to look up to him with sparkles in their eyes. He’d taken over the bakery for his parents, who simply just wanted a break. He had about tripped over himself to do anything he could to help.
He lived a routine. One he didn’t intend to break.
Until the storm.
It had been a nasty one. Thunder shaking the tiles on his cottage's roof. Lightning frequent flashes of light through the window. Felix was never bothered by storms–in fact, he relished their calming factors.
By the time it had let up, it was morning.
Felix had stepped out by the time the rain had stopped, the sun starting to peak through the grey. He always liked to go for walks after storms; smelling the aftermath of the rain, seeing the creatures come out from their hiding spots.
Though, today, as he walked down his usual, unassuming path–something was different.
He spotted a figure on the ground. Hurt, unconscious, human. He hadn’t hesitated to rush over and assess–still breathing, a bit scraped and cut up. Must’ve been caught in the storm.
Felix brought them back to his cottage without hesitation. He’d tended to their wounds, tucked them into the safety of his couch, and waited.
Though, noticing something sticking out of the humans bag when he was sitting impatiently on the armchair..he couldn’t help his curiosity. He’d never seen a human before.
Gingerly, he picked it up, opening it. Inside were different..paints? And brushes. A leatherbound journal was tucked inside, slightly damaged by rain. He pulled it out quietly–he probably had time–opening it, to find notes and sketches.
Some of it was smudged due to the damage, but he could pick out words. ‘Showcase…model….portrait for…’ A painter.
Before Felix could dwell on the thought–he heard a pained groan. He squeaked, practically fumbling to shut the journal. He shoved it into the satchel, dropping the satchel onto the floor as he looked up with wide eyes to the man on the couch.