The Half-Elf Kaedyr nervously watched the lift float up and down, loaded with cargo. He had heard that the elves possessed powerful mages among them, but could not help feeling awe and some fear of the huge enchanted structure. Well, he had not come this far only to turn back. As a group of frustrated merchants shoved and hollered at a pair of pedigree stallions who refused to board the lift, Kaedyr walked over to the lift as nonchalantly as possible and, sidestepping around the hubbub, stood as close to the middle of the platform as he could.

The hood pulled low over his head blocked all view of his face from his nose up. As wrong as it felt to be ashamed of his heritage, he felt comforted that his face would be hidden from the elves. His half-pointed ears, his features too delicate to be human, too robust to belong to an elf, were not welcome in this place. It only took one glance at Kaedyr to know what he symbolized to elven society: A halfbreed, an impurity in the elven Lineage, a thief, a conman. And now, for the first time in his life, he stood on their ground, in the city of his Father's people.

All of these truths poured through Kaedyr's head like a cold soup. He felt at his side for his small coin purse to reassure himself that he did in fact have a reason to be here. Today he would buy a new leather tunic, to replace the threadbare robe he had worn for the last 6 years. He had saved the eight gold pieces and three silver carefully over the months, all earned legitimately by using his bard's talents in small villages. Even now his wooden flute, his only valuable possession, hung wrapped in a linen bundle over his shoulder.

The lift finally stopped at its destination. Kaedyr tried not to look like a tourist as he walked across the huge wooden platforms and rope bridges which intertwined to form the Elven city of Koeten. He had never seen so many elves at the same time, shouting to him and the other shoppers to come buy finely crafted swords, trinkets, masks, and delicious foods as they walked by. He came to a shop labeled "Tendil's Garments". This looks like a good place to start, he thought to himself. Gathering up his confidence, he opened the door and strode through it. The shop had the sweet, musky smell of new leather, and as he entered he spotted a large leather tunic hanging among other things along the wall. He inspected it, noting a small parchment that read "15 gold 9 silver". Just then, a tall, slender elf entered the room. His silver hair had begun to gray at the edges, showing his age to be around 50 in human scale.

"Sir, I'd like to buy this garment," said the half-elf boldly, holding up the tunic for the merchant to see.

"Ahh, and a fine Choice it is, said the elf, "but I do not do business with men behind hoods."

Kaedyr's heart dropped to his stomach. He had been protected until now by the heavy hood, but now he would face the moment of truth; now he would reveal his identity. Slowly he pulled the hood up, letting it fall to his back. The merchant's eyes widened in recognition, but he showed no sign of alarm. "Well then, that's better," he said suavely. Then, pointing at the tunic, "You're in luck, half-elf. For you, 20 gold pieces."

Kaedyr's thoughts raced. "I don't have that much," said the half-breed, holding up his small purse.

The merchant counted the coins, then turned to Kaedyr and said flatly, "It's not enough."

Kaedyr's mind boiled with anger. "I'm not a fool, sir. You should charge me the fair price for this garment. I won't let you sell to me for more than it's worth."

The merchant leaned forward forebodingly and cried, "Are you challenging me, Half Elf?"

At this time, a crowd of elves who had overheard from outside came in to see who this unruly half-breed was. Kaedyr looked wildly about himself, his tan face naked to the silver-haired people surrounding him. Fed up, he scooped his coins back into his purse and turned to leave.

He was paralyzed with shock when he heard the shopkeeper shout, "Stop, thief! This half-elf is taking my hard-earned money! Please, someone stop him!" Kaedyr looked back with amazement at the Elf, who cast him a snide grin.

All at once the cheerful crowd became a mob, surrounding him on all sides, eager to seize him but wary of touching the mysterious half-breed. Kaedyr forced his legs to move, running as fast as he could through the huge city. Behind him, a hand caught at his arm. He spun and kicked his captor sharply in the shin, almost falling as he continued to run for the lift. The elf he had kicked cried out, "He's dangerous! Stop him quickly!"

A false step sent Kaedyr sprawling onto the wooden ground. He looked up frantically and tried to scramble to his feet, but was overtaken by his hunters. He felt the coin purse being pulled out of his hand. Desperately, he abandoned his savings. He had regained his footing now, and began to run again, but felt hands ripping at his battered tunic, which tore easily at the pressure. He kept going, for once glad of his human muscles which could easily outpace the elves', and finally reached the lift. It had already begun its descent, but he leaped downward onto it, twisting his ankle at impact. Above him, his pursuers threw curses down at him and warnings to never come back.

Reaching behind his back, Kaedyr found to his dismay that his flute was no longer tied there. It had been ripped off, or maybe it had fallen when he'd tripped. Empty-handed and heavyhearted, he limped away from the spectacular city. He did not belong here. He did not belong anywhere. And he had nothing left.