I wondered what constituted the label 'mortal' for an elven-born.
… and that's a theological debate I'll think about later; I was more concerned with what this meant for me.
"You were the one that realized the Shamaness was missing?" I asked. "First one on the scene?"
Ing made a sound of affirmation.
Humming, I lifted my still-bound hands to rub my chin in thought. "But I'm still a suspect? If it was clearly, um, 'magical' in origin, can't they tell I can't be the criminal they think I am since I don't have magic?"
That only got me a confused head tilt. "I see it hugging your form and flowing through you though. Oh, maybe you just haven't learned any magic? Mother has told me humans do not innately see the mana-flow."
What.
"As for why you're here, well, not everyone has a level of sight that can detect what I saw." She tilted her chin up in superiority, "That is why I'm Apprentice to Shamaness Verk, after all."
There was a moment of awkward silence when Ing realized her Master was still missing, her raised face slowly lowering with her mood.
While I wondered if I should comfort her or not, her hands reached toward me.
"Here, let me."
Another incomprehensible phrase—I'm not even sure how you would even form those syllables with a human tongue and voice box—and the knots loosened by themselves. My hands were finally free.
"Thanks," I rubbed my wrists which sported rope burns. Fantastic.
Before I could speak again, the guard came back, bringing this visit to an abrupt end. Ing assented before she suddenly leaned forward and whispered in my ear.
"I will try to help you this evening. Master would not want an innocent blamed for her disappearance."
Watching her disappear and surveying the web of roots keeping me in, I finally looked down to see what Ing handed to me.
I wasn't sure what to think when I unwrapped the cloth and it revealed a golden apple sitting amongst dried fruits and nuts.
[They are safe to eat. There is also a waterskin detected to your right. It is filled with water and fermented aureilis flower nectar and spices. Low alcohol content; safe to drink.]
That sounded like watered-down mead. Considering it was safe to drink, I assumed the additive was used more for a pseudo sports drink than disinfecting the water (not that one could actually drink water sterilized with alcohol; better to use sodium hypochlorite, iodine, chlorine, or something else other than ethanol).
Ignoring the trope of food chains running through my head, I drank from the waterskin. It's not like I knew how to leave Gaellia anyway. And if I really needed to make a run for it, I had to have the energy for it. And this stupid hangover gone.
All the remaining food was tucked away and the waterskin stuck in a larger pocket by the time the elves came to take me to my trial. Thankfully, they didn't seem to care about the ropes no longer tied around my wrists, though I was far from amused over being held at sword point.
Walking away from the Tree Prison, I got my first glimpse of the elven city about fifteen minutes later.
Food Chains: Basically when food/drink is the reason a person gets stuck in a place within a story. Think Persephone and pomegranates.