AN ELF BALANCED UPSIDE down upon one fingertip. Beyond him lay a yawning canyon filled with a thin, pure white mist. Many lush green and blue towers of stone protruded out of the layer, creating the impression of a great pale lake filled with ariavanae – indeed, the presence of magic was palpable in his picturesque location.
Allory spied upon him as through a pane of leaded glass, such as she had seen at Durhelm Castle. This meant she could not precisely discern his skin colouration, but she judged it to be a fine ochre colour, much lighter than Jhoranyal’s mahogany but no less striking. Crystalline skin was incredible in its own manner, reflecting the ambient light in ways that mesmerised the eye. So was his pose. Flawless. One finger balance. Everything about his physique spoke elegance perfectly married to power, so much so that it took her the longest while to realise that the Elf, clearly of middle years judging by the salting of white in his long blonde hair, bound in a complex knot behind his head, wore nothing but a loincloth.
Without moving a muscle, he said, “Who are you?”
She would have glanced over her shoulder, except that she seemed to be embedded in this substance – a large grey crystal, she realised. Allory tried to make reply. Nothing.
“It is unwise to sneak up on a meditating Elemental.”
He neither shifted a thousandth of an inch nor opened his eyes. He might as well have grown from the lip of the cliff as slowly as any lichen.
“My patience thins. This is a sacred place. Begone, intruder!”
Right. Her being embedded in a solid crystal lattice, unable to even vibrate her particles? Not exactly an option.
Allory tried to swat him with her mind, her scintillance, the full lustre of her effervescent personality. Ahem. Stuck like a bug in amber. Really. Whose brilliant plan had this been, again? It was more than clear to her that she knew nothing about being an Elemental life form.
All creatures started as Faelings.
Nonetheless, humiliation was the emotion foremost in her mind.
The Elf upended himself in a single smooth movement and smoked toward her. One second, he was twenty feet away, the next, a face glared at her from behind an arm extended in a combat pose that appeared to major upon ripping an enemy’s head off their shoulders. Good thing she had no actual head. For that matter, where did a brain reside in a random, fluid collection of magical particles? How did it even form rational thoughts?
The Elf’s grim expression moulded into a slight smile of surprise.
“Oh, that must be awkward. Allow me.”
Suggids! He moves just like her.
His hand smoked into nothingness. Nothing promptly extracted her with care from the crystal column and then shifted back into ordinary being. How did he even do that? Exceptional control. Allory shook out her sparkles and tried to appear as if she, too, knew what she was doing. Nasty little liar. Pulling herself together, she tried to present herself in her close-to-Scintillant form.
His eyebrows shot up. “An Elemental Fae? Should have known. You’re unique.”
“Are you Barakunal?” she tinkled.
“I am he. Who’s asking?”
“Allory Fae. Sort of Scintillant … Elemental.”
“Sort of? Having the same sort of existential crisis that trapped you in that scrying crystal?” He scratched his head, before adding, “How did you find me? Scintillant, did you say?”
“Aye. I am a Scintillant Fae.”
The brows threatened to shoot off his face, so violently did they punctuate his surprise.
He said, “I’ll be back.”
Kerpoof! Barakunal appeared thirty feet to her left, where his loose white trousers and shirt stood up of their own accord and leaped onto his body, followed by the donning and stowing of a startling range of weapons without any use of his hands whatsoever. Kerpoof! He returned to his previous position before her, eyebrows arched in query.
So similar to Ash’s ability, it took her breath away. No time to blink. Yet Allory had to wonder, why the demonstration of power? Two could play that game.
She did happen to be the resident mischief in training, after all.
Bushes and trees, if you’d be so kind?
Barakunal’s gaze flickered across to evaluate the commotion before returning to pin her with an intensely measuring glare. His deep umber eyes narrowed. “Alright. You have my undivided attention, Allory Fae. What do you want of me?”
Opting for the directness these Dark Elves appeared to prefer, Allory said, “I would not have disturbed your meditation, Barakunal, but for reason of great need. I’m afraid there isn’t really an easy way to state my business here without it potentially coming as a great shock to you, so, if I may?”
“Go ahead.”
“Do you know Zinueli Sylvanchild?”
The graven planes of his face hardened. “I did. That is old history.”
Clearly a mistake to start with Ash’s mother.
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“I am sorry,” she said, wishing once more for antennae to stroke to ease her nerves. “Barakunal, today I witnessed an honour bout between the Ula-Sali’karm Jhoranyal and another Elf. Their bout was incredible. I am no warrior to form judgements, but I believe the skills on display were nothing short of spectacular. Against all the odds, Jhoranyal lost. Badly.”
Barakunal offered neutrally, “Jhoranyal is not easily beaten.”
Yet his bored tone could not disguise his interest. Not to a being who could perceive the elemental perturbations of his magic.
“Except by an Elemental Elf, as I understand it?”
“Aye. I fought Jhoranyal once when he was but a lad. Even then, his skills were destined for greatness. So, this other fighter …”
“She only learned of her Elemental nature during the bout. Her abilities emerged under severe duress.”
The strong jawline tightened.
“I – what I wanted to explain was, the other combatant displayed the exact same power you just demonstrated to me – the ability to … I don’t even know what to call it, shift through space? With this hint of dark smoke trailing your form.”
Dark Elf smoke? Like she was now an even sparklier manifestation of scintillance?
Begged the question – what did sparkles actually do, apart from being cute and coming into their own category of usefulness after dark? Perhaps she could one day claim awesomeness in the elemental realms of waywardness and misbehaviour?
“A hint, please,” he said, allowing a measure of anger to harden his tone. “Enough with the intrigue, Allory Fae. Your concern for my feelings is acknowledged but unnecessary. I choose to speak with you because we share one nature. Elementals are more than rare. I thought that I was the last. Now, to learn of the existence of two more of our kind in one day? Whilst every drop of my sap is deeply honoured to make your acquaintance, my demand stands. Who is this other and why do you assert they matter to me?”
He must guess, given her opening question, but perhaps honour or this ingrained grief she sensed about him, shaped his response?
She said apprehensively, “Jhoranyal had signed and sealed his own name to the prenuptial acquisition contract of the other combatant but had not yet paid her price. Her name is Ashueli, daughter of Zinueli Sylvanchild. She is the Elemental.”
He wheezed as if she had slugged him in the gut.
Allory dropped her regard out of respect as he visibly fought to control his reaction, but what she sensed rocked the ariavanae which pooled so naturally about him – rage, distress, hurt as massive as that canyon, fear and aye, regret mingled with longing. At last, he suddenly flashed to the cliff’s edge and voiced a cry she had never heard any creature make before, a primal roar from the depths of his heart. Her radiance faded in response; she trembled in every iota of her being. Such anguish!
There he stood for the longest time, fists clenched by his sides, staring out over the void.
Timidly, she approached from behind.
Evidently more than aware of her location, he said at once, “Once, long ago, I was paid to deliver Princess Zinueli to Durc, for that man somehow had her family in a bind, but on the way … things happened, things which I have never admitted to another living being. I told her I never would. In truth, it was my pride and a twisted understanding of honour that led me to give her over to Durc Durhelm, to convince myself that she could never be anything to me. I cast Zinueli off with callous disregard. When I heard she had been delivered early of a girl child, I sent in a spy. It was clear to all that the girl had no Dark Elf heritage in her. At least, I never questioned the report. With my misdeeds successfully hidden, I convinced myself that my honour remained unsullied and I’ve kept away from Zinueli Sylvanchild ever since. It seemed for the best.”
Allory sighed. A melancholy tale.
Barakunal said, “Is there … a resemblance?”
“The Dark Elf heritage is not obvious,” she replied, “but then, you are not dark of colouration and she is a tan Elf. In form, I sense something –”
He interrupted, “Your assessment of her abilities … are you certain?” The colours of his magic seethed with emotion as he breathed in and out, deliberately slowing down his physical responses. “I apologise, Allory. It’s just – I need –”
She said, “Of course you may ask, Barakunal. What you just showed me is exactly how she beat Jhoranyal. She shifts her being through space as you do. She fights at speeds beyond flesh and bone. However, how he knew or guessed enough to put his name to her contract …”
Barakunal shook his head. “I cannot imagine. I had nothing to do with that.”
By his bitter tone, she knew he wished he had. He wished it with every droplet of his Elven sap.
“Ashueli knew nothing of your existence until today. That’s why I came. I … oh! I’m feeling a little weird. What’s happening to me?”
“You need to return,” he rapped at once.
“Could you –”
“Make haste! I will follow at my best speed. It requires effort and great magic, but we Elementals can sense and locate one another in ways other creatures cannot. Quickly, Allory! You must not delay in an unrooted shift-state! I’m a fool for allowing – what?”
He flinched as she shot into his eye, into the crystalline reflection behind his retina. Great blossoms of rainbow colours exploded across her vision.
* * * *
The same colours swirled in behind her eyes as Allory found herself choking out, “Daa – nnn, Daa …”
What?
Then, she realised how her Dadfae’s fingers clawed painfully into the soft base of her neck just above her collarbones, crushing her windpipe. Allory feared he’d tear her voice gourd right out of her throat. Terrifying, how quiet he was. How deadly intent. She had woken up to find his hands clamped on her throat. No warning. So stealthy the warrior, her sleeping family had not even stirred.
Between blinks, his eyes changed. Darker than the gloom of her cocoon, they drew her in like the mesmeric stare of a cobra. “Tell me where it is. Give it over.” He cursed viciously, words she did not understand; words not even aimed at her, Allory realised. “That shining glory – the Dragons’ festering light!” he moaned, squeezing her neck with brutal strength. “Sap’s soul-blight on that accursed light – Middlesun’s eye, I will have your power, your magical breath, your immortal soul – I’ll kill you. Kill, kill, kill. Kill, kill …”
His teeth ground abnormally in his jaw, mangling the words.
Allory knew he intended to murder her. The world faded. One imperative withstood the pressure of impending unconsciousness. She knew she must live; yet this pain, this slow, relentless cruelty, was too much for a Faeling.
Crushed beyond recognition, could a soul ever hope to fly again?
When an eerie compulsion lanced out of her Dadfae, Allory knew she had to react, to deflect – a survival imperative governed her response. She unearthed an old memory from the recesses of her mind, a memory older and more deeply concealed than most. It was a distinct image of a resting-place, or rather the remnants of a beast that had once traversed vast black gulfs between specks of radiance by means of light spouting from its rear end.
How did she know this?
The Faeling in her giggled softly. That peculiar talisman, that place of stone which was not stone. It still seethed with uncanny olivine energies even after thousands of years.
To the Wraith, it was the ultimate, irresistible bait.
Subterfuge was needed. Even in her utmost distress, Allory realised that the creature must not know that memory’s source.
She pushed the fragment toward her pupae-sisfae Izrimy. The girlfae stirred restlessly in her sleep, murmuring, “Bone … yard …”
The throttling halted as if the creature had suffered a heart stoppage. If only. As Allory heaved a huge, relieving breath through her bruised, mangled throat, it pounced upon the memory-fragment, tearing it from Izrimy without a care for the delicacy of her mind. Allory flinched, but her sisfae merely yelped in her sleep as if she had pricked her thumb upon a thorn. Her Dadfae toppled off her as if he had been punched out cold.
He lay unmoving, stripped of that diabolical power which had possessed him.
Her darksap Dadfae.