Alicia looked around, looked at the faces of those that had spent a portion of their lives sheltered by their human sympathizers and saw what was always there:
Hope. Dreams. The things that made living all that more bearable.
Her server interrupted any further thoughts by giving her a few slices of glazed ham, yams with butter sauce, a bit of cranberry sauce to go with it, two hot rolls, and a carton of low-fat milk.
“Thank you,” she said with eternal gratefulness—not believing her own luck.
Tillie was talking with someone behind her—a girl a couple years younger than her—before she put forth her tray on the metal rail to be served as well.
Sarah followed suit after that and for a moment, this all felt like a home away from home.
She took her tray over to one of the tables and took her seat as the head—waiting for her friend and her daughter to join up. They did a minute or two later, but Tillie came with a new friend: The same girl she had been talking with.
And she carried a tray of her own as well.
Alicia saw that she was an elf by nature—with the pointed ears and the brim cap with a stylized ‘M’ on it. But a second look revealed it to be a custom made sports cap with the same lettering.
The girl looked her for a second with unrestrained awe coupled with respect and she curtsied a bit in her presence before sitting down.
“So who is your new friend, honey?” She asked—by ways of a greeting.
“Chandelle. But everyone calls her Shay for short.” Tillie introduced on the fly as she took her customary seat.
Alicia reached out and shook the girl’s outstretched hand.
“Pleased to meet you.”
“Same here.” The girl squeaked out in quick response—before turning her attention to Tillie herself. The two girls quickly dissolved into a highly animated discussion in Elva language that the woman followed with interest for a time—knowing full well that this new bit of socializing would do her daughter a world of good.
Not that she didn’t try on her own, mind you.
But her circle of friends had been interminably small to begin with. And that wasn’t something she could blame on herself, but on the state of current events.
But seeing her talk with her new friend gave Alicia a warm heart and a bit of hope for their own future. It was a huge step in healing old wounds between all three races.
Even with the human boy that had stolen her heart.
Sarah ate in silence of course—she wasn’t much of a conversationalist by reputation. She preferred to let her actions on the battlefield speak for her instead of mere words.
But she listened in anyways—finding their ongoing conversation to be anything but interesting—and it left the woman shaking her head in response.
Alicia didn’t need to know what was going on either. The top at hand was about boys and the guys they liked and before she knew it, she heard Charlie’s name being mentioned more than once with the Elva girl giggling and laughing over her daughter’s recent experiences with the boy.
“—you’re so lucky—” she heard Chandelle comment in a breathless voice. “My mom wouldn’t let me get caught dead with a human—let alone anyone else. She says that I need to grow up some more, before finding my perfect life mate.”
“So you can’t even have a boyfriend?” Tillie asked in a low voice—thinking that nobody around them was even listening.
“We live here at the women’s mission, Tillamook. The pickings around here are quite slim to none. Unless you count the occasional cute guy that comes in to do maintenance or some other stuff. I know the dishwasher in the kitchen isn’t too bad. Actually easy on the eyes—even if he is…human.”
“I sense a ‘but’ around here somewhere.” Tillie pointed out gently.
Shay nodded.
“But…” she took a deep breath before releasing it. “Our people are a tiny minority in the Underground—practically an endangered species. Our history was always a blood one and we suffered horrendously for it. The Great War all but exterminated the last of our tribes and remaining clans. We don’t have enough genetic material to go around to remain viable. But my mother and her family managed to come through the whole ordeal unscathed for a time. But we had to flee. Go into hiding. Until the Resistance found us purely by accident.
“That’s how we got to come here. Old Man Felix was very happy to have us.”
“Why not take one of the abandoned buildings that line Level Two and turn them into a residence for all magical kinsfolk? Or seek housing on Level One?” Tillie asked.
“Level One is for humans.” The other girl said with clear distaste. “Not that I blame them. But the way the Resistance and the Underground set this place up before and after the Great War ended—was a way of dealing with the city’s rampant homelessness. Again, mostly humans.”
Tillie nodded with a bit of sympathy in her voice. “Is that why humanity blames magical kinsfolk and us? Is because of how things had deteriorated over the years?”
Shay laughed despite the seriousness of the problem.
“Who knows? But there was plenty of blame to go around after the Great War ended. We thought we would be looked upon as equals. But that turned out to be such a Mother Blessed joke.”
Tillie chuckled in return. “Tell me about it. I still feel like I’m at fault for something I didn’t even do. Or maybe it was because I was born a half-ling by definition?”
“A human half-ling, please.” Shay reminded her coolly. “That osat derivative isn’t looked upon too well in our circle. Our tight knit community—because of all the shame it has brought us over the years.”
“Sorry.” Tillie ventured, meaning it. “I wasn’t intending any disrespect.”
Shay shook her head. “You’re just lucky you’re not talking to my mom. Boy, would she give you a Mother Blessed earful. Same with my grandmother.”
“What about you?”
The other girl shrugged indifferently. “I’m used to it. I mean, I should be brandishing the legendary Dawn Sword and cutting down my enemies for every epitaph hurled against my kind, but…? I think we lost it somewhere along the line. Or some chowder head sold it for ale or mead.” She giggled mostly to herself upon saying that.
“Or so the stories go.” Then she looked at her new friend. “You?”
Tillie chewed and swallowed the piece of ham that she had in her mouth and shrugged for a moment.
“Witches don’t carry weapons. At least not like they did in the old days. These days—? It’s a prerequisite. But ours is fashioned out of glyphs or magical incantations. Except for my Storm Blades. Those I have clipped to my back in a spring loaded clip harness.”
“I always thought witches were already powerful?” Shay inquired with open curiosity.
“Some of us…were.” The girl admitted with some difficulty.
“I see. But now I take it more extreme measures were needed to combat the armies of the Third Watch?”
“Our magic is only effective if it has an affinity for the target. I can’t launch a normal incantation at the enemy with the hopes of hitting it. Our magic doesn’t work that way.”
“So you have to charm the enemy for your spells to work?” Shay offered with a grin of her own. “In that case, can you get that cute dishwasher in the kitchen to come and grace my presence?”
“I saw him,” the other girl reminisced easily enough. “But he looks like he’s about twenty. Twenty-two tops. I don’t think you would want him.”
Shay sighed wistfully. “I can dream—can’t I?”
“Sure you can. But my magic would be a waste anyways.” Tillie reminded her bluntly.
“Yeah, I know. It has to have an affinity for it.” Shay said, before taking a bite out of her roll—her facial expression changing in an instant.
“Bleh. Needs some butter.”
Tillie gave her one of her sealed butter pats. “Here. Have one of mine. I usually eat my rolls dry anyways.”
“Dry? Are you insane?” Shay argued blithely. She reached over and touched the girl’s forehead for a second—not realizing that she was also committing an unintended faux pas.
Alicia noticed it as well, but said nothing in response. She didn’t want to jump in and break something magical and beautiful at the same time: A blossoming friendship.
“Nope. No temperature.”
“You thought I was sick in the head or something?”
Shay nodded, her charcoal colored eyes shining with humor.
“These rolls may be made from scratch, but they require something sweet and buttery to be able to swallow them down whole.” She told her up front.
“I thought Elves ate bread no matter what condition it was in? Even if it was moldy?”
Shay giggled. “We’re not like the Orcs whom didn’t care one whit about their own personal health. Our kind had a more refined pallet. So everything needs something these days.”
“Like your ham for instance? I noticed you have a pool of mustard next to it.” Tillie pointed out playfully.
The other girl nodded. “I have taken a liking to having my meat slathered in spicy or tangy condiments. Siracha mayo or spicy brown mustard.” She said, cutting a piece of ham off her plate. Then she dipped it into the pool.
“But this will do in a pinch. I have nothing against yellow mustard. One of the better contributions made to all kind.”
Tillie watched her with a small amount of envy because she never thought about adding any condiments to her tray.
Shay paused for a moment with her speared piece of ham dripping with honey glaze and mustard.
“What?”
“Can I try that?” She propositioned hopefully.
Shay looked at her for a moment before nodding. “Sure. Go ahead.”
Tillie cut off another chunk of her ham from the remaining two slices and aimed her fork in the general direction of the pool of mustard sitting placidly next to her friend’s decimated ham slices.
Then she dunked it, pulled out with a bit of flourish and ate what was on the fork.
“Good?” Shay inquired—watching her face change in the process. Hard to believe with all the shit going in the world today, two unlikely people could be brought together through a piece of ham covered in mustard.
Tillie nodded with her eyes closed. “God I miss this so much during the holidays.” Then she opened her eyes and grinned.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” The other girl said, before her mother showed up at last with a half-empty tray and a half-emptied carton of milk.
“There you are, sweetie.” She said in the ways of a pleasant, motherly greeting.
“Making new friends?”
Shay glanced back at Tillie, then nodded.
“Yes.”
Her mom studied Tillie for a moment and then nodded.
“That’s good. We need all the friends we can get right now. Finish up and meet me in the library. There‘s something I would like to show you.”
Shay’s face fell.
“More studying?”
“No, something else which I think you would find interesting. It concerns your recent ‘discovery’ of the Sha’arn Stone. The one your grandmother left to you for safekeeping.”
Tillie raised her hand for a second.
“Isn’t that the name of the legendary elemental stone of power that has control over the four known elements?”
Shay’s mom nodded—a bit surprised by the girl’s answer.
“How do you know about that?” She asked.
“Heard rumors of it through various backwater channels. Someone apparently thought they found another copy lying around in the ruins of an old smelting plant outside of Gainsville.”
“Yes, well, there have been many copies created over time—since the original six were lost. And you must know that they only carry a shadow of their former glory—being nonsah stones.”
Tillie nodded. “I know. But if Shay here has the real McCoy…?”
“That’s what we’re here to find out.” Her mother said, still towering over her daughter like a protective mother hen.
“I’d like to volunteer my services as an adept of the Academy of Magic and Arts. And as a witch.”
“And what would that accomplish—if you don’t mind me saying?”
“Tillamook here has an affinity for things when it comes to her magic, mom. Maybe she can be useful in sensing the true facet of the stone itself.”
“Well, you have it with you.” Her mom indicated. “Why don’t you show it to her?”
“I don’t think the lunchroom would be a good venue. I’m worried about the effects the stone may have on non-magical folk.”
“How about the others?”
“This stone is supposedly—theoretically—a cushwa to the old gods. A connection I mean. It could very well manifest into something so horrifying and dangerous that it could put Level Two in mortal peril.”
“Just by touching it?”
“No. You have to invoke a special phrase to unlock it. It is harmless otherwise.”
“What about holding it?” Tillie pressed then.
Shay looked at her mom—who was now curious as well as concerned.
“I don’t see that being a problem. But I must say, I have never encountered anyone who wasn’t the least bit fearful of the old gods.”
“Oh, we have our own religious deities to call forth in a time of conflict or battle. But usually magical incantations, spells, or weapons have a much better result.”
“Mother Blessed you are a confident one.” Shay’s mom chuckled, before nodding to her daughter.
“Go ahead, honey. Show her the stone.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Home at Last
That end of the table grew quiet as all three witches beheld a sight that was only once foretold in legend.
The thing was about the size of an old American silver dollar—about ten ounces in weight—but cut into the likes of a faceted opal shaped piece of jewelry on all sides.
The only difference is that the jewel was set in its own holding clasp—with pewter silver dragon claws at the bottom and a sterling red ruby set that the very top.
But the back of the clasp wore a clip attachment for a heavy chain gold necklace which spooled out from the girl’s pouch pocket and onto the table itself.
Tillie stared at it in amazement.
“You didn’t tell me that you were in possession of the legendary Dragon’s Tear!” She bit out in awe. “Holy Moses!”
Shay looked at her new friend and then back at her mother.
“Is that what this is? The legendary Dragon’s Tear?”
Her mother hesitated for a moment. Then nodded. “Yes. The sixth elemental stone of power: Fire and brimstone incarnate.”
Shay glanced at her friend for confirmation. But her face still read of shock and awe. So she solved that problem by pushing the stone over to her.
“Is it real as my mom said? My grandmother too?” She wanted to know. “Because at night, I can sometimes hear the dragons cry and it’s left me with such profound sadness.”
“Maybe because this was taken from a dragon at the time of its death. When it was mortally wounded by an enemy.” Alicia said, leaning over to touch the jewel itself.
“It’s warm. Alive with power. So primal.”
“You can tell just by touching it?”
“Yes.” The woman said, before her daughter nodded just the same after holding the thing in her hands.
“I feel…indescribable power. A truly refined essence of a legendary dragon. A name…Suga…?”
“Susha.” Shay’s mom corrected.
“One of the First Beings. A powerful god-like deity that used to rule this world in ancient times.” Shay filled in with pride. “They have been a guidepost for our kind for untold millennia.”
Tillie nodded, still spellbound by her experience. “This is no copy, Shay. It’s the real thing. Where was thi
s found?”
“It belonged to my grandmother. From ages ago. She kept it locked away in one of her keepsake boxes. It was only given to me upon news of her death—which happened only recently—through a courier of the Resistance.”
The other girl nodded—before handing it back to her friend.
“You’re lucky to have the real thing. There had been so many copies over the years that nobody was sure if any of the original stones actually existed. It looks like your belated grandmother came into possession of one of those six stones.”
Shay glanced up at her mom. “Do you know where she got this?” She asked.
“I don’t know sweetie. Your grandmother wasn’t in the best of minds when she passed on. A great many of her secrets went with her to the other side when she did.” She said, before touching the artifact.
“But this was perhaps one of her greatest mysteries of them all. The six stones—now five—have been lost to the gulf of time and space. How she got this, I truly don’t know.”
“I didn’t know either until I found that secret compartment within the keepsake box—locked by a simple transitional seal; easily broken.”
Tillie nodded. “Then it must mean your late grandmother entrusted you with a big responsibility, Shay. She didn’t give it to your mother—she passed it to you. That must have had some significant meaning.” She analyzed quietly.
Shay’s mom nodded in turn. “She was—in human terms—the apple of her eye. My mother loved her dearly as one of her own. Would always spend nights talking to her while being bottle fed as a baby. In time, they developed a special bond between them that could not be broken. Not even during the times when we were…forced to separate after the old federal government fell and the Regency Council was born out of its ashes in the years following the Great War.”
Tillie turned the crystal over—from front to back and noticed that there was an almost small—if not noticeable—inscription directly on the back of it.
On the plate itself.
And in Elva no less.
But the dialect was so old that the girl had some difficulty translating it.
“The…Keeper…of…Lost…Souls.” She read slowly and deliberately. “Huh. At least, that’s what I think this thing says.”
Generation Witch Year One Page 20
