
Bound to the Dark Elf King
Rosalind Claire · Ongoing · 102.7k Words
Introduction
The first time, he was Wayne—the wandering bard who saved my life and taught me everything I knew about potions. I loved him for thirteen years, only for him to disappear without a word.
The second time, he returned as Kyle—a cursed dark elf dying in my arms. Cold. Dangerous. Broken. I healed him, and somehow, I fell in love all over again.
The third time...
He became Ailendil, the Elf King.
To save him, I traveled back in time and killed the man I loved with my own hands.
Now he has forgotten me.
But every time he looks at me, I still see it in his eyes—
He is falling for me again.
Chapter 1
(Ella's Pov)
The weather is nice today, after a whole night of heavy rain, everything is practically sparkling.
The red tiles on the roof have been washed clean, and there's no dust on the streets either.
Thornville, nestled at the foot of Mount Thorn, is frequently visited by passing warriors and magic academy apprentices.
The weather is nice, so I'm planning to take out the Hulaweed I put away yesterday and dry it in the sun again.
Hulaweed is a very common herb that can be used to make simple blood replenishing potions, very popular among adventurous warriors.
But the Hulaweed I have can only make the lowest grade blood replenishing potions. If it weren't for the poor little goblin who delivered them, I would never have accepted this batch of inferior herbs.
Moving the rack into the small courtyard, laying out the boards, I place the Hulaweed on them to dry.
Stocking the potions on shelves, sweeping, wiping the cabinets, and it's time to open for business.
I'm Ella, an intermediate pharmacist, and also the owner of Thornville's only potion shop.
"Ella! Good morning!" Mrs. Mary from the armored weapons shop across the street greets me warmly, "Yesterday's rain was really unusual, wasn't it?"
I nod: "Yes, Thornville doesn't get much rain. I've lived here for over twenty years, and I've never seen such heavy, long-lasting rain."
"Yes, it feels like something big is going to happen." Mrs. Mary agrees with me completely. She walks up to me, gently tugs my sleeve, and pulls me into the shop.
"What's wrong, Mary?" I ask softly, seeing she has something to say.
Mary's cheeks flush red, and she says quietly: "Dear Ella, I heard you can customize potions here..."
"Yes." I nod readily, "What kind of potion effect do you want?"
"Well, it's that..."
"Which one?"
Mary whispers in my ear: "...I want a potion to treat hair loss."
Looking at this girl, I thought it was something major, but it's just hair loss.
"Of course no problem," I say, amused, "but I need to prepare a specific potion based on your symptoms, that's the only way it'll be effective."
Mary says happily: "I knew you could do it, that's great! Thank you Ella!"
"Custom potions are still the old price, ten silver coins for a small bottle." I say with a smile.
Ten silver coins are no small sum, but I don’t set my prices arbitrarily. For top-selling potions like blood restoration potions and mana potions, I can craft them in large batches. Since I make them in bulk, I have no trouble selling off my inventory. That’s why I keep prices low—one to five silver coins per small vial.
But custom potions are different. Like the hair loss treatment potion Mary is ordering, only ordinary people without magic power need it. And no pharmacist is willing to specifically make potions for ordinary people.
This kind of order, only I will take.
Because I was once an ordinary person without magic power, I understand the difficulties ordinary people face in this world.
If I hadn't met Wayne thirteen years ago, I could never have become a pharmacist.
Wayne... thinking of this person, the guide of my life path, my teacher, my idol... the person I admire.
My heart aches.
"Then I'll come find you this evening, don't tell anyone~" Mary says cheerfully.
Thinking of Wayne, my mood becomes somewhat sad, I force a smile: "Of course, I'm a pharmacist, I won't casually reveal clients' privacy."
Mary is about to leave when the clip-clop of horse hooves comes from the distance.
"Oh my, it's the city patrol knights!" Mary sees the knight order's flag from afar and exclaims excitedly, "Is it Knight Colin? It's him, right! He comes here every time he patrols!"
I say with a smile: "Knight Colin was just here five days ago, city patrols happen once every ten days. He won't come today."
But Mary jumps up: "Ella, look! It really is Colin!"
Following the direction of Mary's pointing finger, I actually do see the city patrol knight order's squad captain Colin.
What's going on?
I frown. The patrol schedule won't be easily broken, something important must have happened.
Colin gallops past on his horse. He must have seen Mary and me, nodding to us in acknowledgment. Then he quickly heads toward the town's central square.
The residents are discussing animatedly. I follow everyone else, also heading to the central square.
By the time we arrive, a huge portrait has been posted on the notice board. Even more surprising, this is actually a magic portrait.
Clearly, this fugitive is not an ordinary person.
Colin's handsome face looks somewhat serious. He says loudly: "The Elven Kingdom has issued a bounty notice to the entire continent! Anyone who discovers this dark elf and reports it, once this dark life abandoned by The Tree of Life is captured, the Elven Kingdom will give generous gifts as thanks!"
The Tree of Life, the mother tree of the Elven Kingdom. Legend has it that elves don't need to reproduce; all elves are born from The Tree of Life. Whenever the current Elven King approaches the end of their life, The Tree of Life will give birth to powerful newborn elves, and the current Elven King will select a successor from among them.
I heard all this from merchants. I've always wanted to visit the Elven Kingdom, but unfortunately haven't had the chance.
I don't know why, but I can't grow any plants. All potion ingredients can only be purchased from others with money.
If I could receive an elven blessing, maybe this strange illness of mine could be cured.
With a faint fantasy about the elven blessing, I look at that magic portrait.
On the light-colored parchment is a face painted in rich, heavy colors.
Different from the nobility and elegance of elves, the dark elf's beauty is like a sharp dagger.
Black cat, this is my first impression of this face.
His skin is the color of sandalwood, his hanging black hair almost melting into the shadows. Pointed ears poke out from between the strands of hair, with a small old scar on the ear rim. His deep emerald green eyes are like top-grade Baudelara Berry (an expensive medicinal herb), with eye corners slightly upturned, looking down on everything.
Though it's an extremely beautiful face, the brow bone and nose bridge have sharp, heroic lines. That hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth, mischievous, makes you want to get close, get scratched, then get close again... finally willingly becoming his captive, to be toyed with by him.
The innate nobility of the elven race mixed with a trace of cruelty, converging into this traitor's unique temperament.
"Dark elf?" Mary asks me quietly, "He's just called dark elf, no name? He's really good-looking!"
I confirm the text on the wanted notice again: "It just says dark elf, no name written."
"Indeed good-looking." I agree.
"You all better be careful!" Dale, the bookstore owner, comes over, "Dark elves are best at bewitching people's hearts. They've been abandoned by The Tree of Life, unable to obtain magic power, they can only maintain their lives by eating people!"
Mary jumps away in disgust: "Annoying Dale is just lying!"
Dale says proudly: "I'm not lying, many books write it this way~"
This pair of bickering lovebirds, they're really quite noisy.
Notification complete, the knights prepare to leave.
Colin leads his horse and walks to my side, beads of sweat falling from his forehead.
"In such a hurry?" I can't help worrying, taking out a handkerchief to help him wipe the sweat sliding down to his chin, "You're even sweating."
Colin is slightly stunned, takes the handkerchief and wipes his face: "The elves are taking this very seriously. Apparently the dark elf is very likely heading this way, so I have to notify all the towns in this area, can't delay."
His hand touches my hand. His body temperature is a bit too high.
I take out a small bottle of cooling water: "A new little drink I researched, can quickly cool you down."
"Thank you." He takes it, "I won't be able to help you inquire about news recently..."
I wave my hand: "It's fine, after all these years, I'm not in a rush. You take care of your business. Be safe!"
Colin lowers his head and smiles, a dimple on his right cheek appearing and disappearing.
Speaking of which, it's quite cute. A brave and mighty knight captain actually has a small dimple.
Makes my hands itch, I really want to poke it.
"Okay, I'll come back as soon as possible." He says solemnly, "To find you again."
I pat his shoulder.
When I first met Wayne, he was still an adventurer with no money to buy potions. He came to my shop stingily, wanting to buy a magic potion for 80 copper coins.
You should know that 1 silver coin equals 100 copper coins, and the cheapest magic potion is 1 silver coin per small bottle.
Was he planning to come buy a potion sample from me?
I saw he was really pitiful, so I sold him a potion gift pack originally priced at 10 silver coins, claiming it was because he was the one thousandth customer in my shop, so there was a super big discount.
He believed it, and took the potions I "gave" him into Mount Thorn.
Unexpectedly, on his first mountain expedition he caught a magic beast and made a lot of money.
Then, step by step he reached where he is now, becoming the most prestigious knight captain of the city patrol knight order.
When he just entered the knight order, I asked him to help me inquire about Wayne's news.
Now, nine years have passed, and I still don't know where Wayne is.
Wayne, why on earth did you teach me everything, let me know what love is.
Then take everything away, making me lose what I love.
Looking at Colin's departing figure, I sigh softly.
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