Arine Lloyd sat in the train depot as she waited the forty-five minutes between trains. It was eleven in the morning, and she had left at two in the afternoon of the previous day. She hoped to arrive at her final destination some time around midnight if all went well. It had seemed like a good idea at the time; go by train from Lincoln, Nebraska to New York to save on the cost of a plane ticket, and see the country. Of course, she'd never tried to sleep on a train before. Uncomfortable didn't even begin to describe it. Her neck was sore, her shoulders ached, and she had maybe three hours sleep all night. Arine's attention was currently being taken up by the couple sitting in the depot some twenty feet in front of her. She was fairly certain the man was psychotic; the woman (probably his wife) was trying to keep him under control as he yelled about his handheld game system not working. She nervously pushed some of the loose locks of her blonde hair out of her eyes as the man balled his hands into fists and started hitting himself on top of his head. She looked away from the spectacle and began to study the depot she found herself in. It was a building with squared columns reaching up towards the ceiling, the alternating brown, cream and light orange tiles lining the walls and columns giving the whole an ochre feel. The man was continuing to hit himself on the head as he complained first of the game, then of how long they'd been waiting for the woman's brother to come and pick them up. They were both middle aged, and the man sported five o-clock shadow while the woman's had unkempt hair. Both looked like they'd slept in their clothes. As she watched, the woman tried to suggest something in his ears. She could only guess it was about some sort of medication because he started yelling about how he didn't want to take "it," because "it" made him "sick as a motherfucker." Arine finally decided she had enough of the dysfunctional couple. She put her backpack on, grabbed her carry on luggage and went outside the building. She had thirty-five minutes now before the last leg of her journey began, and outside the sun was shining in a beautiful blue sky without a cloud in sight. As birds flew overhead she sat beneath an oak tree and breathed a sigh of relief. She still couldn't get over her luck. Fresh out of college with a journalism major, not only was her resume accepted by one of the dozen or so journals she sent it out to, but once she finally arrived in New York she already had an assignment waiting for her. Of course, she had been rather hoping for something more along the lines of investigative reporting for a hard-hitting news journal. Instead, she was starting out her career for something called Astounding Fantasy, a magazine dedicated to science fiction and fantasy stories. And her first assignment was interviewing some recluse who wrote a book about elves. Arine never understood the whole thing with elves, trolls, dragons and wizards sporting long pointy caps and beards down to their navels. Even so, she realized that if she was going to conduct this interview properly, she had to read the novel this Mia person wrote. She was now two-thirds of the way through, and hoped to be finished by the time she arrived at her final destination. She pulled the book out and started to read. The novel was astounding to Arine; not a simple sword and sorcery tale at all, but a piece brimming with political intrigue and treachery that spanned multiple generations, it left her feeling both melancholy and uplifted at the same time. After a bit, she checked her watch. She quickly placed a bookmark in the novel, grabbed her backpack and carry-on luggage, and headed back to the train depot. .... The bookshelves along the one side of the room were filled with old grimoires, Arabic, Latin and Old English manuscripts, and ancient histories of long forgotten realms and peoples. There was also a suit of medieval armor, candles spread all throughout the room, a display rack of medieval armory, and an owl sitting freely upon a perch near an open window in the study. Finally, looking out of place in the room, was a table with a laptop on it, used by its owner for writing her stories. The door opened, and an attractive looking young brunet came into the room carrying a cup of chamomile tea. Suddenly all the candles in the room came to life as flame sprang up from out of nowhere onto their wicks. Mia Shea pushed a lock of her hair back, her fingers brushing against where her ear came to a point. She was a walking anachronism, and she knew it. Most of her elven race had either lost their heritage through intermarriage with humans long ago or else were killed off in wars fought in the dimly forgotten past. She was an elf living in the modern world, and as far as she was aware the last of her kind. She took a melancholy sip of her tea as she looked at the calendar. Her eyes suddenly went wide. "The interview." she groaned. Tomorrow around tea-time, she had been scheduled by the publisher of her novel to be interviewed by someone from a fantasy magazine. She turned away from the calendar and went over to a bag hanging by a nail from one of the bookshelves. She opened the bag and removed the twelve small rune stones. She hoped to get the interview over with as soon as possible, and was curious to see how much of an inconvenience this interviewer would be. She went over to a table, cast the stones, and looked. "What the..." she asked as she tilted her head in disbelief at what she was being told. She cast them again. Same reading. She cast a third time. Again, same reading. She stared at the stones silently for a few seconds before finally picking them back up and putting them away again in the bag. As she hung the bag back up on its nail, she turned around to see the owl watching her. As the animal moved its head a bit, Mia chuckled. "Well Althor," she said as she reached over and pet the bird's head, "It looks like tomorrow may be interesting." With that, she finished off her tea and turned to leave the study, the candles all going out as she left the room. ------- Arine woke up to the sound of the buzzer at the hotel she had rented online before leaving Nebraska. She would begin hunting for an apartment later she resolved as she hopped into the shower. After the shower she dressed as professionally as possible and headed over by taxi to the publishing headquarters of Astounding Fantasy. After a quick tour of the offices by a man with a mustache and slicked-back graying hair that she later found out was to be her new editor, she was given the address to the private home of the woman she was to interview. After a forty-five minute bus trip that took her out of the city, she was dropped off at a bus terminal in a small New York town. She pulled her backpack off and opened it to make sure she had everything she was going to need, oblivious to the figure making her way over to her. "Let's see..." Arine mumbled to herself, "Notepad, pens, tape recorder, copy of The Fey of Trifalcamore..." "Arine?" a pleasant, almost musical voice asked, "Arine Lloyd?" The blonde looked up to see an attractive young woman with chestnut-brown hair smiling pleasantly at her. Her eyes were a beautiful shade of brown as well, and she had a warm and welcoming feel about her. She wore a pair of blue jeans and an Irish knit sweater. What attracted Arine's attention most though were the woman's ears, which came to points at the end. They, together with the rest of her appearance, gave the young woman an attractively earthy atmosphere. "Yes." The reporter finally said as she once again found her voice. "Are you here to pick me up for Miss Shea?" she asked. The brown-haired woman chuckled a bit at that. "I am Miss Shea. You can just call me Mia." she said in a faint Irish accent which, combined with her physical beauty, made Arine's heart flutter, "Come on, my house is only a ways away from here. We can walk." she said as she smiled again at the blonde. Arine simply nodded, and followed the shorter young woman. As they walked, the blonde tried to make sense of the situation. What was she thinking? She was on assignment to interview this woman, and here she was falling for her. She'd been in a relationship with a woman before in college, but nothing came of it. But even with that relationship, there was never this sort of instant attraction she was now feeling as she walked next to this earthy little... "Well, here we are." Mia said, pointing to a quaint little home surrounded by trees. Something about the place had an almost fairy-tale like quality to it. As they started up the path to the porch, Arine turned once again to Mia. "Forgive me for saying so," she began, "But aren't you somewhat young to be an author?" Mia turned to her with a smirk, "And aren't you a bit young to be a reporter?" "Touché." Arine said as Mia opened the door. As the smell of spiced incense and wild flowers exuded from the entrance, the blond followed the brunet inside.
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