Memoir of The Last

The boy felt warmth spreading from his digits to the tips of his toes. No, not just warmth. He was burning up, indisputably. His weak eyes opened and looked around to find himself in a bedroom in a house, but not his house. Hardly able to move, the boy pulled the thick quilt up to his nose and took a couple of sniffs. Everything around him was unfamiliar. Though, he couldn’t care less at this point. He felt like he’d be better off dead anyway if his kin would toss him aside. He shut his eyes, falling back into a deep sleep from the sound of harsh winds hitting the walls outside. Not soon after he fell asleep, he awakened again. But this time, a cool cloth was put on his forehead with liquid slipping down his temple, and a woman was sitting at the desk he hadn’t noticed before in the corner of the room––busy with something in front of her. Oddly, something made the woman turn around to check on the child. She smiled kindly at the sight of his open eyes, even if he was just blankly staring at her.

“You’re awake,'' She said. She had a hood covering most of her face, but her smile was genuine in the flickering candlelight. The young boy said nothing. “I found you outside faced down in the snow. It’s pretty dark and cold out tonight––you weren’t intentionally playing out there in the woods, were you?” Still, he said nothing. The woman hummed, dropping her smile for a moment. An idea popped into her head, so she got up and left the room. When she returned, she had a serving tray with a wooden bowl filled to the brim with a sort of stew, and a piping mug of tea beside it.

“I’m sure you’re hungry, would you like some of my famous M-stew?”

This caught the boy’s attention. He quickly sat up, gasping in shock of someone, anyone, offering food to him. But the pain of a throbbing headache shot him in the head. He groaned and held it up while leaning over. The woman quickly made her way over to him and put the food beside him, then aided him in lying back down. “Careful, you’ve got a hefty fever from being out in the blizzard in nothing but shorts and a shirt. I’m sure your head is throbbing like hell…”

The boy looked at her sideways, “Hell?” He repeated.

“Oh!” She covered her mouth and blushed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to swear in front of you, child. H-Here, go on and dig in…” And he did. The boy ate quickly, shoving spoon-fulls of stew into his mouth with weird white things floating in it. Rice? It sure was crunchy if that were the case. When the child got to his third serving of food the woman gathered the courage to finally question him.

She placed a hand over her chest as she introduced herself, “My name is Azusa Hawksminn, this is my home. Do you have a name?”

The child nodded reluctantly. He swallowed this mouthful of stew and stared down into his bowl.

“It’s...Nash. Just Nash.” He responded.

“What a nice name. It’s nice to meet you, Just Nash-”

“Why...are you being so nice to me?”

“Hm?”

Nash stirred his stew, playing with the...rice. He scooped up some, then splashed it back down into the bowl. “You know what I am, don’t you? You can tell by my red hair and orange eyes…”

Azusa turned her head to avoid looking at him. She would scoff if the child wasn’t present. “Of course I do.”

“Then why? I know I’m just a good-for-nothing kid, enough people have told me so. But I’ve heard the tales of swashbuckling thieves who are slyer than any fox—tales of Salamanders. Why trust someone like that into your home?”

“Sounds to me like you don’t steal, considering you refer to Salamanders as if you aren’t one. Am I right?”

Taken aback, Nash stared at Azusa with wide eyes and an agape mouth. He pressed his lips together tightly and shook his head, as he truly never had stolen from a single person in his life. “It’s disgusting… Having to live off of stealing from people who work hard for what they have. And if we steal from the wrong person or species, it could start something really… bad.”

“Ahh, and I just guessed that taking in this particular Salamander child would be fine. Guess my gut was correct again.” She smiled cheesily, her teeth gritting beautifully. Nash noticed the small fangs in her smile. “And… what are you, Azusa?” Keeping a grin on her lips, Azusa tossed all the cards onto the table. She grabbed her hood and ripped it off her as if revealing a trick to a magic act. She had a deep brown shade of hair with a couple of white streaks in it, a scar over the eye that was blinded as the other glowed a gorgeous emerald green, ears long and pointed to the tips, and fangs that hardly hung over her bottom teeth. “I’m a Noldorin. An elf. But any other pansy just calls us Noldor.”

Nash stared quite hard. He had never seen something so pleasing to the eyes in his entire life. He'd never seen an elf before, either. He also had never heard of such a species of elf before, but he was glad that at least now he could die fulfilled by seeing one of life’s most beautiful beings gracing his presence.