LOST VALLEY, ALVIR-TAROTH, APRIL 13, 2059
“Mama, tell me about the Machine People.”
The little girl wasn’t really little anymore. Asrial was thirteen and had been growing like a weed, likely to be taller than her mother by the time she was done.
She was already beautiful, mixing her mother’s dark hair and deep blue eyes with elven genetics that made her naturally slender and graceful in a way most human girls could only dream of.
The human girls liked her well enough, but the native elven girls still kept their distance. To them, Azzy would always be the Regent’s daughter, only child of the sorceress who freed them from slavery and turned their precious valley back into their home.
“Aren’t you a little old for story time?” her mother said.
“I hope I’m never too old for story time,” Azzy said, always knowing just what to say to get her mother to do what she wanted.
The Regent of Lost Valley adjusted her blue sleeping robe and sat on her daughter’s bed. “Somewhere beyond that portal,” she began, indicating the direction of a giant green gateway to another world, blockaded now by armies on both sides.
“In a land beyond the sea and beyond the sky, you can find a world where the peasants live like kings, and all the humans are free.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“The people of Earth have magic, but for them, it comes and goes like the tide. They can’t rely on their magic, so they learned to be clever with machines. They have swords and books and glass like we do, but they kept going until they made miracles on top of those, plowing machines and talking machines and big square buildings that touch the sky.
“They have so much food they can throw it away; so much food they grow taller than we do, some even taller than elves! Even the plainest woman can use silks and face paint to be beautiful, while their men can grow muscles until they look like an ox!
“They have reading machines and writing machines and talking machines that can tell them stories just like I’m telling you now.
“They travel everywhere in rolling chariots made of steel, driven by engines so strong they don’t even need horses anymore.
“Their wizards aren’t as strong or as wise as the ones we have here, but I saw one turn solid ice into a wooden bridge, and heard tale of one who could turn a whole army to gold.
“Their world is not perfect,” her mother said, always sure to include a warning with her stories, so her daughter’s mind would not get completely carried away. “Some of their water has been poisoned, and some of their land is foul, ruined by trash and drought and poison clouds that come out of their machines.
“They fight wars with horrible weapons that can tear a body to shreds, fighting with metal sticks that can pierce a man just like a sword from a mile away.
“They can call fire down on their enemies from the sky beyond the sky, commanding steel dragons that can swoop down and rain death on people below, killing every living thing for miles around.
“Their peasants are so rich they can eat until they get fat and sit around doing nothing all day, while machines dance for them like jesters in their little homes.
“Their kings are so powerful, they have to pretend they’re not kings at all, just so their peasants don’t rise up against them.
“I haven’t seen one since I was a girl like you, but I dream that one day the Machine People will roll through that portal with their great steel dragons and set us all free.”