Elves of Irradan

by RG Long

  But it was too much. She let out an exasperated breath and all of the rocks fell to the wall. With quick hands ready, Jurgon was able to save the smallest one from bouncing off the wall and down to the sea below.

  "Better," he said as he handed back the red pebble to Blume.

  She took it with a weak smile. It was true, she was getting better. It was still, however, not her usual magic.

  "I just still think it might be my necklace," Blume suggested again as she arranged the rocks back into their pattern.

  But while she tried to blame it for her new lack of skill, she flatly refused to use any other piece of Rimstone. Not since blowing up the countryside with Jurgon's old wand. She had managed to mangle his treasure quite extensively.

  Her necklace was special to her, anyways. How could she turn her back on it? It had been their family treasure and her father's most prized possession. It would be like giving up a member of her family.

  Jurgon, with a hand over his mouth, studied Blume.

  After a moment of inspection, he held out his hand.

  Just as she was unwilling to use another piece of Rimstone, she was also unwilling to let anyone else try to use her own, for fear that the problem might really be her own lack of ability. Blume was jealous of his increasing skill in Speaking, though she would never say that out loud. She had spent more time with Jurgon since coming to Lone Peak than anyone else. If there was anyone she had come to trust, it was him.

  She hesitated a moment but then carefully removed the necklace from around her and placed it in Jurgon's hand.

  "Nothing fancy," she instructed him.

  "Nope," he agreed.

  Jurgon held the necklace gingerly in his hand and passed his new wand to Blume with the other. She accepted it without taking her eyes off of the halfling and set the wand down carefully in her lap. Blume didn't want to tempt herself to use the magnificent artifact and maim another precious piece of stone.

  Jurgon closed his fist around the necklace and stared down hard at the circle of stones. His brow furrowed and he held out his other hand in front of him towards Blume and the small stones. The soft words of incantation escaped from his lips. Blume found herself wishing for the stones to remain in place, to refuse to rise for Jurgon as they had for her.

  But they didn't.

  Gracefully, the stones rose up into the air, calmly circling the red pebble in an intricate and beautiful dance. Just as Blume began to sigh with indignation, green energy like little lightning bolts burst from the pebbles, jumping from stone to stone. Then, without warning, the red pebble in the middle exploded in a flash of green light. Blume and Jurgon were both blown over by the force of the small explosion.

  Jurgon's face was slightly darkened with ash and Blume wiped off her face the dust that was all that remained of the rocks.

  "Didn't see that coming," Blume said as Jurgon gently handed back the necklace, a dazed expression on his face.

  It glowed with a soft green light, but otherwise looked unscathed.

  "Well," Blume said, her heart lifting a little. "I guess it's not all me."

  Jurgon swung his feet over the edge of the wall and hopped down to the stones that made up the elevated walkway.

  Turning around and offering Blume his hand, he simply said, "Nope."

  Blume looked down at the halfling and was glad for his company. If nothing much more could be said for him other than that he was an excellent cook and spoke very little, he was at least nonjudgmental.

  "Time for supper, isn't it?" she asked, taking his hand and hopping off the wall herself.

  His face lit up with a smile.

  “Yep."

  As they walked down the wall towards the first set of stairs that would take them to the upper district, Blume began to think about her renewed effort to Speak again.

  She had to admit that some of her wanted to be able to do magic in order to show Dilinor. A few days ago in the library, he seemed to not believe that any human could do magic. Blume knew that was wrong. And, even though there were some in the city of Lone Peak who could Speak, none of them could really hold a candle to Jurgon or to herself.

  Well, at least what she used to be able to do.

  Blume looked down at Jurgon with a smile. He really was advancing very quickly in his ability. From what she could tell, he was already at the level she and her fellow classmates were at when she spent a short time in a school of magic on Ruyn.

  Thinking about that school made her miss her friends, Abigail and Jeremy. She had sent letters to them on a ship that was supposed to be heading for Riverhead. She really hoped the letters would make it. There was another part of her that felt like she and Dilinor might be friends.

  If given more time.

  But another part of her knew that she was reinvigorated to perform and practice because of Ealrin's belief in her. Having him tell her just to practice more wasn't very inspiring. But to hear him say that he knew she had it within her to perform magic again lit a fire underneath her.

  She was going to do it.

  No matter what.

  They were just about to descend the last few stairs that would take them off of the wall and onto the upper district when Blume came out of her thoughts and noticed her surroundings.

  "Is it just me, or are there a lot of people out today?" she asked Jurgon.

  "Yup."

  A lot may have been an understatement. It seemed like the entire population of Lone Peak had gathered here in the upper district. The city’s population had swelled with the arrival of the elves for sure, but they had mostly all been confined to the tents outside the walls or spread out over the city.

  Blume retraced her steps up a few stairs in order to get a better view of what was going on.

  "Kinda looks like they're all heading towards the amphitheater," she said, noticing a bottleneck of people attempting to enter the stadium.

  Then she hit her forehead with her hand.

  "It's the first of the week! There's a speech today!" she remembered.

  She looked down at Jurgon and knew that it was going to be mad to try to get through the crowd to the amphitheater by weaving in and out of the population. From the looks of things, it would take hours to wait in line and shuffle in with everybody else. A familiar exhilaration came over her.

  Blume felt a little mischievous.

  "Hey, Jurgon," she said squeezing the halfling's hands. "I saw you reading up on that advanced piece of Speaking yesterday. In the red book?"

  She looked down and saw a wry smile across his face.

  Maybe Jurgon had his moments of mischievousness, too.

  "Want to try it out?” she asked him, looking back over the throng of elves and men heading through the stadium entrance. “I trust you."

  Jurgon seemed to think for a minute, but seeing the crowds gathered in front of them, nodded in his head and said, “Yep."

  Blume held onto his hand more tightly while he pulled from his pouch the Rimstone wand he had been becoming so skilled with. She could feel the energy trickling down her neck and causing her hairs to stand on end.

  There was a brilliant red flash and Blume felt like someone had jerked her forward, as if Jurgon had suddenly burst into a dead sprint, dragging her behind him. The sensation ended as quickly as it came with another burst of energy.

  The jerking sensation subsided and Blume found herself balancing precariously on the top of one of the ornamental statues that framed the stage of the amphitheater.

  Looking down, she saw that she was a good forty feet above the stage's wood and stone face.

  All of this took her a second to comprehend before realizing that, while she stood balancing precariously on the head of the statue, Jurgon was not standing at all.

  She felt the jerk of his hand as his weight began to pull her off balance and off of the statute.

  There were a few gasps from the crowd as people saw the girl and the halfling falling down over the statue.

  Blume shouted out ov
er them.

  "Try again, Jurgon!”

  The familiar jerking sensation, a flashing red light, and the pair of them were no longer in danger of falling off the statute. They had indeed managed to teleport again, but to where, Blume wasn't sure. The bright light had disoriented her, especially now that it was so dark.

  "Give us a light?" she asked Jurgon.

  Her voice echoed back at her, bouncing off of the hard surface that enclosed them. A soft red glow came from his wand and Blume saw him take his hand away from the stone. He was definitely panting and sweat ran down his forehead.

  "Well done," she told him, patting him on the back. "Now we just have to figure out where we are."

  34: Poorly Timed Return

  Blume and Jurgon were inside some type of long stone tunnel. Even though it was dark, she had the sensation that people were very close by. In fact, she could hear people talking, many of them.

  Like the sound of rushing water, hundreds if not thousands of voices sounded like they were happily chatting away. Blume walked for a moment down one end of the tunnel and the sound became lesser.

  "It's got to be coming from that direction," Blume said, pointing the other way on.

  From one of her pockets, she produced a small roll that she had intended to save for herself after practicing magic for so long. The look on Jurgon's face as he leaned against the wall, worn out from his advanced magic, prompted her to give it away.

  "Eat up," she told him.

  He didn't need telling twice. Leading the way with one hand holding out his wand and devouring the bread using his other, Jurgon led them in the direction of the noise.

  In just a few steps, they came to a dead end. It was strange to Blume because she could swear the voices were coming from just beyond the wall.

  "I think you got us into something behind the amphitheater," she told Jurgon. She pressed her ear up against the surface that blocked their path. She expected stone, but it was wood that her fingers grazed over.

  "Maybe there's a handle?" she asked she began to feel around under the guidance of Jurgon's red light.

  A loud noise ended her search abruptly.

  “Welcome, citizens of Lone Peak!" came the booming voice of one of the Nobles of the City. Though Blume knew the amphitheater was designed so that sound could travel, she had tested it once on one of her nighttime excursions, the voice booming now was far too loud.

  Someone had to be magically enhancing it. The buzz that had come with the spectators began to die away.

  “The Elves of Enoth have journeyed from their homeland to extend the hand of peace to the country of Darrion and bring with them a warning of a coming danger!”

  Blume held her ear up against the wood and listened hard. The crowd assembled was definitely murmuring at these words. This was not the speech she had expected. Most of the time she skipped these meetings as they weren't the most exciting thing going on in Lone Peak. Speeches would range from nobles trying to gain political power over a rival's house, to changes in the night guard, to visiting plays and minstrels.

  Blume thought that even the recent theatrical talent had been a bore.

  This was new.

  “I give you,” the voice continued. “His Excellency, Rophilborn the Eternal, Emperor of Enoth!”

  Emperor? thought Blume as applause filled her ears.

  “Thank you, kind houses Condor, Bear, and Leviathan,” came a voice that was unfamiliar, yet warm and kind. It was not the type of voice Blume had expected an emperor to sound like. She had pictured someone old with a gray beard and heavy crown on his head who talked with a trembling note.

  This person sounded young, no older than Ealrin and certainly less so than Holve. She found herself wanting to hear the voice more, hoping it would speak so that she could listen.

  “We are grateful for the men who have settled the north and brought civilization to the coast of Irradan.”

  Applause, presumably from the men he was talking about.

  “And we elves have kept safe the southern lands for our own empire.”

  Clapping and cheering. Blume guessed the elves in attendance were indulging in national pride.

  “But there is a threat that lives between us.”

  Silence followed this statement. If the emperor was going for dramatic effect, he had found it. Blume was trying to remember who lived in between the men of the north and the elves to the south.

  Wasn't it...

  “The elves of the woods are fierce and barbaric,” the emperor said, cutting across Blume's train of thought. “They worship the trees that the elves of the south so desperately need for the furthering of our great kingdom. And what of you men? When the cliffs no longer can supply your needs and your food stores run low, will you turn to the south as well and find elves who live like animals?”

  Sporadic shouts now filled the amphitheater.

  “You harvest and plant where you can, but are the cliffs the best place for your food to grow? How much more an abundance would you have if the whole of the forest was able to be used for fields for your crops and feed for your animals? How many ships could you build if you had at your disposal the great tress of the south?”

  More shouting came from the crowd at his words. Blume could hear people shouting out things like “More food!” and “Greater ships!”

  “Peace!” the emperor shouted.

  And with his word, the place fell again into a hushed silence.

  "We have received word that the city of Bestone has already been attacked and fallen to the wood walking elves. Like animals, they took nothing of value from the city, they only enjoyed the pleasure of burning it to the ground and killing its citizens."

  Angry noises filled the crowd. Blume wondered if people in the city had relatives who lived in Bestone. She herself knew full well what it was like to come from the city that was attacked for no reason. As best as she knew, she was the only survivor of her hometown.

  “Who of you have family outside of Lone Peak? Who of you would want to protect loved ones from death? Which of you would fight these barbarians in order to protect your family and your nation?”

  There were scattered cheers of affirmation. Blume could tell this leader was an expert at getting the masses on his side.

  "Friends," the emperor said. "We must join together to fight this menace!"

  Shouts of affirmation followed his statement. The general din became a roar as more and more people called for the blood of the wood elves.

  The emperor then began to detail a plan he and his fellow elves had constructed in order to neutralize the elves of the woods. Mostly it involved signing up and volunteering for an army that would march from Lone Peak and into the territory of the forest.

  The army would leave in two weeks and those who would volunteer should prepare themselves for a long journey and difficult circumstances, but would be greatly rewarded by the noble houses of Darrion and the elves of Enoch.

  From the sound of things, this was the end of the speech. Blume could imagine men in the colors of Darrion standing at the exit of the amphitheater holding large parchments and quills, taking down names of volunteers for the army.

  Something about it didn't sit well with her, but the emperor’s voice had been so welcoming and kind that she found it difficult to doubt his words.

  Then there were her immediate circumstances to consider.

  "How do we get out of here?" she asked as she continued to feel around for any knob or handle that would open the wooden panel in front of her.

  A terrible thought crossed her mind: that there was no door, only this wooden panel in front of them. She feared that the builder might have known this tunnel to be a dead-end and boarded it up so that no one could wander inside a tunnel that went nowhere.

  She looked at Jurgon who was nearly slumped over with exhaustion and knew that asking him to teleport them out would be a real hardship on him. He might be able to manage it in a few hours, but not at the moment.

&
nbsp; This thought of being sealed inside this dark tunnel was just beginning to overwhelm her when she heard the sound of a door opening and voices shouting at one another.

  There must be a small room on the other side of the wall. Blume could hear the heated conversation quite clearly.

  "You have no proof that the wood elves were the ones who burned down Bestone!" the first voice shouted. "It could've been pirates! Or Wrents for that matter! You're basing this campaign all off of false information!"

  "But did you not hear the voice of our emperor?" a second, calm, and much deeper voice replied. "He has said the attack was from the Wood Walkers, and I dare not refuse him."

  "And I wonder how he came to that conclusion," the first voice responded. Blume could tell these two were no friends. Both of their voices were dripping with hatred for one another.

  "Darrion scouts, of course," the deep voice answered.

  A groan of frustration came from the other person.

  "I will send my own scouts to verify this before I put any weight of my own behind this. This reeks of deception and falsehood and I feel you are in the center of it."

  The slamming of a door ended the conversation.

  Blume waited to hear if both of the elves, she was assuming they were, had left when the door slammed. She was surprised to hear a third voice.

  "Do you think he'll be convinced, Master Cedric?"

  "No," the deep voice replied. "I think he will be disposed of."

  "But he survived the first attempt, my Lord," the new voice said.

  The one name Cedric laughed. It was a deep and mirthless sound. Unlike the voice of the emperor, Blume wanted this to stop as soon as she heard it. The noise chilled her.

  "It's only a matter of time," he said. "I will ensure that he is dealt with."

  Blume heard a door close and assumed that the second pair of voices was now gone.

  "Seems like these elves don't have it all together either," she whispered to Jurgon, who was now sitting cross-legged on the ground, munching on the rest of his bread.