master of all six primal elements

...

it's an aavatar

TDP writers: let's add one more "a" before his name

TDP writers: and let's make him evil

TDP writers: and also super hot and mysterious so basically daddy material

me: please please i can't take it lord have mercy

everyone and me: n u t

__

As I crept along the grassy marshes, boots squishing in the soft plantation, I heard the crackling sound of a fire in the distance. Yet, there was no smoke, no signs of anyone living in the area. I will explore more later. My eyebrows furrowed as my pen and quill scribbled furiously against the parchment book. I hurriedly shut it when I heard an echo of something splashing. Quickly looking up, I found it was only a bog fruit, native to Xadia. Yes, I was in Xadia. And yes, I would most likely die, but why not here? It'll be interesting, at least.

Crow Master had crows come by daily to check up on me, so I guess he'll know if I'm gone or not. Lately, though, besides the crows, I haven't had that much interaction. Crow Master was like my best friend since trousers, so I knew I could rely on him. Though it violates protocol, he keeps it a secret since he's been promoted.

"Only for you though." I smiled, slipping my journal back into my satchel and continued to march through the bog, aware of the various types of magical algae I'd studied through textbooks. Though I knew a lot, there was still much to be seen, so I had to keep my guard up.

Once I'd successfully crossed the swamp, plains of flowers greeted me, and the trees seemed to separate further ahead, so I started to creep towards that area. Xadia was so cool.

In the distance I saw the tip of a palace-like structure. Oh my god, it's here. This is what I've been looking for. I fumbled with my satchel and pulled out a violet-colored, gold embroidered sketchbook and flipped to the ribbon-marked page. Lifting the book to look at the building side-by-side, I was absolutely sure that it was the right one.

The reason why I came here was because I kept having dreams. Dreams about this man, galaxy skinned, markings that looked and glittered like knives, deep, dark eyes with no white, and flowing, grey-ish white hair that sometimes sparkled when the light hit it.

But what captivated me the most were his eyes, the way he moved with such grace, the way he'd stare seemingly at me, the slightest smile dancing upon his features, lips parted in such a way that I'd only dream of talking to him. His hands seemed to weave magic, as a wave of one would leave me wide awake in my sleep, sweating, the dream ending.

The most interesting part about it was that he looked like a star elf of legends. Elusive, mysterious creatures that could create stars, their bodies made of astral matter, resembling the heavens above. I didn't know if he was one, considering I can't determine the shape of his ears, or if horns are atop his head because of a hood, placed, almost... perched on his head, hiding the wonders that may be in his mind. Though I was almost certain, I couldn't say for sure.

When he showed up in my dreams, I tried to quit sleep for a week. Didn't work. When he started to randomly show up in what I guessed were hallucinations in reality, I tried to sleep for a week. Also didn't work. Had I gone crazy over this guy? Was he even real? Somehow, even if I dreamt it, I'd never forget the scenery that had been revealed to me. This wasn't a dream, I was determined to find this place, and low and behold, it was reality.

Adrenaline was quickly pumping through every single vein, capillary, and gland that I had in me as I wasted no more time marveling at the structure and dove to the doors, gently opening them, and shutting them with the same precision. Inside I was greeted by the warm aura of a lit fireplace, books and scrolls scattered everywhere, the furniture even matched the aesthetic of the blue room, plants and magical herbs hanging from the ceiling in little jars, strung with lights. Bookshelves and plantation were abundant in the amazingly giant living space, and I'd recognized the large and carved window I'd seen him in front of.

I took the time to wander around the place, admiring ancient relics, crushed flowers in a little mortar, and a really cool bug collection. I named one "Wormy" since it looked like a worm. When I sat down for a minute on the chair, beginning to soak everything in and grab my journal, the door opened.

"I didn't know someone was in here. That's odd." I lifted up my feet and prayed that he couldn't see the top of my head from the high chair. Resisting the urge to actually scream and attack, my heartbeat was louder than the tiny gasps of air that I took in.

"A human, no less." My lungs finally gave in and I let out the most guttural shriek that was known in the history of all the four kingdoms, leaped out of the chair and literally ran into the figure whom I suspected the voice belonged to.

"Holy banshee!" I cried, toppling to the ground. I crossed both arms over my chest and prepared for impact on the ground. Nothing came but a slight chuckle. Not my voice, oh clearly not my voice.

"Banshee. Haven't heard that term in a while, but you sure do sound like one." My breaths became uneven as I scrambled for the bag that was hung along my shoulder, stumbling up, wheezing and feel my throat begin to close. Taking a flask of my medicine, I opened up the bottle and breathed in the clear vapor through my mouth. Exhaling, I felt a lot better, but now had to deal with the problem at hand.

Looking back at the owner of the house, who was oh-so patiently waiting, I gasped.

"It's you! You're the elf from my dreams!"

"I don't get that very often, but thank you, I'm flattered." It took me a moment to process what had just happened, and my face flushed a bright red, and I was convinced that it would permanently stain my cheeks. First impression, ruined. Thanks a lot self.

"No! No! No! Not like that! Definitely not like that! I-I'm not a stalker, I swear-! I'm just... I'm just a reporter!" He remained silent for half a second with a dumbfounded expression on his face, confusion buried in his eyes.

"Isn't that the equivalent of being a stalker?"

"Well... You're not wrong," I admitted absentmindedly, but realized what I had just said. "B-But! I'm not like those other creepy freaks, I swear! I just wanted to find out something!" The elf raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing along his fine facial features.

"Well I supposed since you're here, I'd better get something brewing." Without hesitation, he released me from the spell that was holding me up and I fell flat on the floor with a grunt. His robes swished as he cast a fire over a floating kettle, something boiling inside. I honestly doubted that he was preparing tea and crumpets.

Awkwardly, I gathered all my stuff and shoved them back into my bag. He paid no attention to me as I slithered on over to the couch, embarrassed to sit in a place I'd previously sat, all because the owner of the place was here. He paid no attention to me as I stood, head bowed, feeling the most amount of embarrassment I ever had in my life, and just tended to the stove, checking what was inside the pot every so often, bustling, throwing things out of cupboards, smiling and frowning at certain sights I couldn't see from my angle.

Despite the situation, he was absolutely magnificent. Quietly, I tried to balance my writing book on one leg as I scribbled down observations, quickly sketching him out and grinning while doing so.

"Is there some sort of secret plan you're devising, if you're smiling so deviously?" I yelped and slammed the book shut, my pen flying into the air. I caught it and breathed a sigh of relief, not exactly in the best position to reply. He chuckled and beckoned for me to sit. I looked up at him, double-checking.

"Sit, you're my guest after all. I haven't had visitors in such a long time, especially from the human kingdom." I hesitated, but plopped down, removing my bag. The sky elf carried the tray and set down beautiful tarts of every kind, cookies, and delicacies, all accompanied by fanciful jams, bread and butter, and of course... some kind of hot drink I was 99.9999% sure wasn't tea, or a hot brown morning potion. Why would he bring out a hot brown morning potion? It was far past that time.

The aroma that spread through the air was heavenly. I gulped, looking tantalizingly at the food, but shook my head and cleared my throat.

"Is this a bribe? Is it poisoned?" I questioned, unsure. He cocked his head, glancing up at me with a fox-like manner. "I'm not going to eat it unless you tell me." He hummed, hand folded on his lap, the other reaching for what looked like to be a yellow custard tart.

"Suit yourself. The pastries of Xadia are the best, much better than whatever selection you humans have. Trust me on this one." I scoffed, eyes darting back and forth from the tray to his mouth, which was opened, eyes glancing at me teasingly. My demeanor was beginning to waver as his teeth sunk into the dessert, chewing slowly and savoring the taste. My stomach was growling with complaint as I tried to shush it. Closing his eyes, a look of pure bliss crossed his features as I quickly grabbed my sketchbook and flew my pen across the paper to capture the moment.

"Not being a stalker now, are you?" The man I'd just met was wiping his mouth, looking at my book with amusement. I felt flustered for what possibly could be the billionth time this afternoon. Placing it behind me, I fidgeted with my hands on my knees, picking at the fabric tunic I had on, the cloth hanging just above my calves, trying not to look at the pastries in front of me.

"Temptation awaits, so why not have one?"

"No thanks, I'm not hungry," I replied simply, smiling and placing my hands on my lap. That was a lie. I somehow masked it well enough to look up at the elf. He must've noticed my expression of awe.

"Ah, human journalists. You're always so... curious about everything. It's quite the personality to have, you know." His voice rang through my ears, sending shivers down my spine. It was like smooth, luxurious chocolate you could only get from the East side of the human kingdom. Every time he spoke, I felt myself somehow wanting to hear more. His voice had that little snap at the end, satisfyingly. God, that chocolate.

I cleared my throat, and finally picked up my writing book and pen.

"So, what's your name?" I asked, figuring it would be an easy interview question for any living being.

"Oh, it wouldn't benefit you to know that." I cocked an eyebrow, tapping my writing utensil impatiently on the parchment. I scoffed. "And why not?" The elf responded by chuckling and sighed, amusement once again spreading along his face.

"If you must know, it's Aaravos." I took a note of that, happily scratching down his name in cursive. That was quite a name that rolled off the tongue.

"What do you usually do on a day-to-day basis?"

"The usual, you know. Crush herbs, make potions, test potions, watch as my internal demise swirls inside a glass bowl, eat, look upon the outside world as something that I will never touch, since I swear I'm just a figment of imagination and mainly because I haven't had any contact with living beings in the past twelve centuries, you know, the usual." My eyes widened as my lips straightened into a thin line, carefully writing in the little dotted box.

Condition: Senile

Occupation: Unknown???

Aaravos took another sip of his drink and crossed his legs, glancing at my figure.

"You know, you're the first person of whatever descent I've come across in a long time. Say, how did you wander here and find my palace?" I scoffed and bookmarked my page with my quill.

"I'd hardly call it a palace. And I just found it. Out in the open." I was being too simple. This thing "palace" was huge. What a beast. It almost was larger than the king's castle. I'd thought multiple people lived here, judging by the sheer mass of this building, but clearly not. Or maybe Aaravos was just reclusive and he's hiding away his servants in a locked up dungeon as he looks in a mirror all day and maybe one of his prisoners is really optimistic and one of them in trapped in a coin and one of them is trapped in a bird and the one that's trapped in the bird he has two sons that don't know he's still alive and maybe he's the protector of like a kingdom of some sort, but that may just be my personal instinct. Doubt it's true.

"You're an interesting one, aren't you? Have any plans, other than interviewing me?" Aaravos gave a little chuckle, as if entertaining himself. "If you want to stay, you could. I'd have a bit of fun with you, having you around."

"Like an assistant? Please, I'm not some low life-"

"You're a reporter for a paper barely anyone reads. You're talking about low? Also, property invasion. You literally snuck into my house like a little rat and you're talking about me offering you a low position?" I opened my mouth to argue, but couldn't. It was true.

"You... You pompous- Oh I give up, you win." The elf smiled, standing up and started to dig through the vast collection of books he had. I watched in fascination as half his body disappeared as he crawled up, into one of the shelves and pulled out a dusty, musty, mahogany leather book. Not any leather.

Dragon leather. I recognized it instantly, from the shiny, reflective scales, to the piece-by-piece assortment of the flecks of gold-

"It's a faux leather, in case you were wondering. The cover is trash, but the inside holds a lot of good stories I used to enjoy as a child." Aaravos walked back over and sat, flicking through the pages. I hadn't realized I was just staring at him, confused until he spoke.

"We could read some stories, or just sit in silence, whenever you're ready to speak, my dear." Flustered, I shook my head and blurted out, "Yeah!" After a quick sigh, exasperated with my language today, I steadied my stature.

"I mean, I'm ready. I'm ready." Aaravos grinned and spread out a map, starry hands on either side of the moving pictures.

"Let's begin."