Angels and Elves- Act I

by William Collins

  Their giant archway was one of a dozen, also carved out of gold. Strangely, the tremendous room was empty, aside from the guards who stood by each pillar.

  The guards appeared human, but were covered with their golden greaves, breastplates and helms, complete with long white cloaks, so it was hard to tell. Each guard was silent and still as a statue, apart from the man nearest who merely nodded to Vanderain at their arrival.

  Evan didn’t fail to notice that every guard had a short sword imbued with shock magic at his belt and held a golden spear upright in their other hand.

  He thought back to Gettelung’s lectures and recalled that Del-O-Reth’s guards were named the Shining Legion. They weren’t Venators, but some of the most skilled warriors from all over the realms.

  “Wow,” Brooke mumbled, marvelling at the breath-takingly beautiful oil paintings that hung on the golden walls. Evan’s attention was drawn to the array of glass cases at the edges of the chamber, each glass case held shining weapons and pieces of armour.

  Then he noticed the single other person in the room, sitting off to the side.

  The bizarre man stood up, smiling warmly. “About time old man. I thought I’d be waiting here for hours.”

  Vanderain looked around, recognising the stranger and returning his smile.

  “Loren Nallador Yaheri. As I live and breathe, you finally made it here then?”

  “I could say the same to you,” Loren replied.

  Evan could tell Nallador wasn’t human, but he had no idea whether he was elf, alien, or even angel. The tall man had skin the colour of cinnamon, with a curious thatch of rusty red hair. His face was decorated by twin silver piercings on the left eyebrow and twin spikes on the right, whilst a golden stud pierced his left nostril and golden rings ran the length of both his ears. Flowing, oversized robes of silver adorned his wispy form, trimmed with purple fur and sparkling with jade sequins.

  As Nallador came forward and grasped Vanderain’s hand, his golden eyes changed to the clearest blue with a blink. Evan didn’t know whether a spell had gone wrong on Loren, or it was something else, but it was certainly unnerving.

  “Yaheri, meet Evan Umbra and Brooke Carn,” Vanderain gestured to them.

  Evan faltered, wondering why Vanderain wasn’t using their fake names. Had he forgotten already?

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Nallador bowed low. “I am Loren Equase Nallador Asuvia Yaheri, the finest bard and poet in all the realms.”

  “That’s, uh, quite the name. Very long,” Brooke replied, taken aback.

  “Indeed, it is,” said Nallador. “Feel free to refer to me by any of them.”

  Evan remained silent, Vanderain must’ve noticed as he said quietly.

  “Don’t worry, Evan. Loren is one of my close friends I told you about. We can trust him with your real names.”

  “Oh, of course,” said Loren, his eyes turning to clearest silver. “As much as I’d like to write a ballad about these drastic turn of events, I shall refrain from doing so.”

  “Turn of events?” Vanderain raised an eyebrow. “So Glommish has filled you in on my predicament then?”

  “Somewhat, then Glommish made an errand boy of me,” Nallador pouted. “He requires me to take you to him before you encounter any of the other councilmen. He of course knew you’d be bringing along some very special cargo with you.” Yaheri nodded pointedly at her and Evan.

  Vanderain looked surprised but then shrugged. “I suppose I should know better than to ask how Glommish knows everything before it happens.”

  “Yes, the council will be convening in about an hour, so we better hurry,” said Nallador, turning with a swish of his oversized robes and heading for the exit.

  “Ah, before I forget,” said Vanderain. “You two will also need aliases. There’s no point disguising your appearance if I’m going to introduce you to the council with your real names. Just a first name will do, let me know before the meeting.”

  They both nodded, and then Evan noticed the few windows dotted about the chamber showed only a night sky outside. It had still been daylight when they left Veneseron.

  “It’s dark outside,” he said. “Wouldn’t the council wait till morning?”

  “Del-O-Reth is one of many realms stuck in perpetual night.” Vanderain answered. “I’m sure Gettelung would’ve mentioned it during your training.”

  “That does ring a bell actually,” Evan said, embarrassed to be caught out by the creator of Veneseron for not focusing during his lessons.

  “I don’t want to come across as rude or anything,” Brooke said to Nallador, “but what exactly are you? Your eyes keep changing colour.”

  “Oho,” Nallador laughed merrily. “That’s a very good question. Well, my father was an Xulian, whilst my mother a god.”

  Evan assumed Nallador was joking about the god part, but the Xulian part made sense. In Creature Study, he’d learned that Xulian’s were a humanoid race whose eye colour changed to reflect their mood. He said this now, mainly to show Vanderain he did listen in class, sometimes.

  As they stepped through the golden doors and outside, it was like moving from a time of ancient past and into the far-off future.

  Sleek, navy tiles, splashed by neon lights, covered the terrific city plaza before them.

  The tiles across the plaza were as dark as the starless sky above, but many were bathed in bright pools of colour from the high streetlamps leering over the plaza.

  “Whoa, it’s bigger than Times Square,” Brooke murmured.

  The two biggest buildings were situated either side of the plaza. One was the largest museum in all the realms, whilst the other was a library so large it was almost double that of Veneseron’s Archives.

  Evan looked off to the sea in the west. Bizarrely, the sea was white, like liquid snow. Barely discernable at the end of the bridge that led far into the sea was a grey obelisk. It was the Republic hospital, where they housed Realmers with long term illnesses or that were affected by incurable magic. Cera would be in there somewhere. Was she still suffering, or had the Realmer doctors made her comfortable?

  To the east was a vast mountain range, hewn from a blue rock. From Gettelung’s lectures, Evan knew the Realmer prison sat somewhere amongst those mountains, housing many Rakarn and other magic-users who’d been caught doing monstrous things, like letting demons into Earth.

  They passed by what looked like an arcade, but the people inside were actually controlling giant robots in the battle against demons.

  “Realmers are always at work,” Vanderain grinned, “even made a game out of it.”

  “Good thing too, every demon killed is another victory,” said Nallador, “shame demons still outnumber us twenty to one.”

  “But that’s so many,” said Brooke.

  “Aye, but it used to be fifty demons for every one human, we’ve already thinned them down significantly. Now it’s about eradicating them entirely.”

  All around the city were giant screens, depicting holographic images of the all the Realmer strongholds. Evan was surprised to feel a pang of homesickness at the mere sight of Veneseron, even though he’d only just left.

  He caught a glimpse of the underwater stronghold, Blutoplis, and the Fortress that sat in the sky, Ellarunda.

  “When did this place get so fancy?” Loren sighed, gazing at the advanced technology all around. “Del-O-Reth used to be reminiscent of ancient Athens. You remember, Vander?”

  Vanderain chuckled. “I still vaguely remember when Del-O-Reth looked like an Aztec city.”

  “Oh yes, that’s right. I guess they just keep changing with the times. Well, at least in sync with Earth.”

  “Uh, I don’t think Earth is this advanced yet.” Evan pointed out, gazing at the machines.

  “The Republic always shows off.” Loren grinned. “It’s because they never saw the Del-O-Reth of past generations. The council members all think they know so much, yet they have the lifespan of hamta-pigs compared to us.”


  “Now, who’s showing off.” Vanderain laughed.

  “I think you mean hamsters, Mr Nallador,” said Brooke.

  “Oh yes, that sounds right. I haven’t been to Earth in a couple of centuries. I do forget things.”

  They walked past the last giant holoscreen, which showed a sweeping view of a massive army. Evan felt his chest tighten as he saw the rows upon rows of grotesque demons, who were followed by lines and lines of horned helms the Rakarn wore as they marched.

  “Is that…” he tailed off.

  “Akirandon’s army, yes.” Vanderain said solemnly. “One of them.”

  “She has more?”

  “Several more,” said Loren. “Don’t worry, our Republic has armies too. Just that we’ve forged alliances with other realms, not enslaved them or killed them all like Akirandon does. The elves, the dark elves, the sand elves, the ice elves…to cut it short I believe all types of elves are allied with us, and they all have impressive armies. We’re also allied with the-”

  “We’ll be here forever if you list every world who’s joined our Republic,” Vanderain smiled. “But we’re running short on time.”

  Evan voiced his thoughts. “So, Master Gettelung said in a lesson once that we’re allied with every world we offer protection too on our missions, right?”

  Vanderain nodded.

  “But many of these worlds have their own problems, even busy with their own wars, so it’s not like their armies could help us immediately if one of Akirandon’s armies invaded Earth, or something.”

  “Indeed,” Vanderain replied, “I …

  “Which leads me to our current problem,” said Loren. “Our dark elf friends are currently embroiled in a messy war on their world, but an artefact lies in the middle of this war that is vital for us to retrieve.”

  “Wait, not hamsters, I think I meant squirrels,” Loren thought out loud.

  *

  Vanderain led them to the Republic’s Palace, where the council meetings took place.

  The bottom half of the palace resembled a closed flower, with what looked like a trident of towers growing from the middle. The middle prong of the trident revolved slowly.

  “The Twisting tower they call it,” said Vanderain.

  “Why does it spin?” Brooke asked.

  “I can’t remember actually,” Loren replied. “You’ll have to ask Glommish, he created this place after all.”

  The guards stepped aside at Vanderain’s approach and Evan tried to give Brooke a reassuring look as they entered. The palace’s interior resembled one of the ludicrously expensive hotels he’d seen on television. The foyer was dauntingly vast, with complex figurines and pieces of art crowding the space, almost like an art exhibition. Running water trickled from the walls only to be absorbed by the tiles, which felt dry on his boots as he walked.

  They followed Vanderain and Loren out of the foyer and down a long and winding cloister, which led to a beautiful garden within a courtyard. Amongst the lush and beautiful flowers was a small pond and one giant tree.

  The garden had only two occupants, an intimidating warrior of a woman who lounged by the pond, and a frail gnome, less than three feet tall. Evan guessed the gnome could only be Glommish, Vanderain’s mentor.

  The woman was tall and lean, with skin darker than night but hair the colour of molten silver. She sat, sharpening a bejewelled dagger and humming softly to herself. Glommish was nowhere near as intimidating as his companion and resembled more of a gentle grandfather. He had a large round head, bald through the middle, but with two tufts of white hair on each side of his head, and even a few white hairs sprouting out of his ears.

  Evan knew Vanderain, and now Loren, were thousands of years old, yet they both appeared to only be in their mid-twenties, so he wondered why Glommish looked to be in his early-nineties.

  As they drew closer, he realised Glommish wasn’t speaking to the woman, but the tree itself. Then Evan saw that the tree had both a face and a voice to talk back.

  “Aye, Master Glommish,” the tree spoke in a great creaking of wood, “many blesses on you once again for saving me and my people.”

  “Oh, you’ve thanked me a few hundred times by now, it wasn’t necessary the very first time,” Glommish replied in a thin, wavery voice. “It was nice to see you again after all these years.”

  “He’s here, Glom,” the warrior woman said, without taking her eyes off her dagger.

  Glommish patted the tree’s bark before hobbling over to them, using his ornate staff as a walking stick.

  “My boy, my boy. Oh, welcome back,” he called to Vanderain joyously.

  “I was here not long ago, attending the previous council meetings.” Vanderain shook his head with a smile. “It’s you who’s only just arrived.”

  “I know, I know,” Glommish said, embracing Vanderain warmly. “I was delayed by a potential breach onto my realm.”

  “Seriously?” Loren cocked his head. “You never said.”

  Glommish perched upon a toadstool, sighing from exhaustion. “It was only a small matter…I hope. I found vestiges of demon magic not far from Aunchtyre’s protective barrier. I feared a Dread Lord or even a Disciple had learned the location of my stronghold, but my protective barrier showed no signs of an attack. A near-miss I suspect, merely a dread lord passing through realms nearby.”

  “I hope so,” said Vanderain.

  “But who are these,” Glommish said suddenly, turning to Evan and Brooke with a wide smile.

  “You know who they are,” Vanderain replied. “As you seem to know everything.”

  “I don’t,” the woman grunted, sheathing her dagger and heading over to them. “Nice illusions though, Vander. The other council members shouldn’t be able to see through it.”

  “Evan, Brooke, meet Krysla Vay.” Vanderain gestured.

  He and Brooke murmured their hello’s as Krysla nodded in approval. “So, these are the famous demon-spawn?”

  “Glommish told you both everything then?” Vanderain turned to Loren and Krysla.”

  “Only the little I know,” Glommish shrugged, his wrinkled face pulled into a lovable smile.

  “Glommish lived when the gods themselves were young.” Krysla addressed him and Brooke. “The rest of us were scarcely born when the gods perished.”

  “Let’s not dwell on the past,” said Glommish, his smile falling. “I fear the council may go against us today. From what Krysla tells me at least.”

  “Out of the four of us, I’m the only one who’s visited Del-O-Reth regularly this decade,” said Krysla. “I told you years ago that letting Belgun rise in the Republic’s ranks would backfire on you.”

  Glommish nodded. “I believe in diplomacy, that the high-council would always rule just and true. It would’ve been unethical of me to stop Belgun taking his place on the council just because his opinions don’t reflect my own. It’s important to have all sides of the argument, before going with the majority.”

  Krysla shook her head derisively. “Yes, and maybe Belgun’s poisonous ideals would’ve been drowned out by other, wiser minds if High-Master Urax and High-Mistress Regina didn’t use Belgun in turn to gain influence over the others. The three of them practically rule the Republic now. Plus, Belgun has other lords in his pocket also.”

  “Aye,” Loren agreed. “It may be a council of our twenty finest, but only the opinions of three members matter right now.”

  “Which is complete and utter ushk,” Krysla complained. “We four are the last of the god’s children. There’s no reason we must obey the vote of the council when we could rule the Republic ourselves.”

  “Calm yourself, dear,” Glommish spoke softly. “Do not worry on things that may not yet come to pass. I have confidence in the council to decide the right way.”

  “Hold on,” Evan said suddenly. “Did you just say, gods? What do you mean?”

  Krysla stared pointedly at Vanderain. “So, you still aren’t telling your trainees about your father?”


  “My Venators know I’m an Eternal,” Vanderain shrugged. “It would take a while to inform every new recruit of my life-story.”

  “Wait, so you guys are basically demi-gods?” Evan looked at the four adults in shock.

  Vanderain winced. “In a sense, I guess. We just go by the term, Eternals. As that’s what being descended by gods grants us.”

  “Living forever?” Evan surmised.

  “It would get boring after a while,” Loren said. “If I didn’t keep finding new worlds to explore.”

  “So, you’re kinda’ like the demon Disciples…but good,” Brooke added hurriedly.

  Krysla appeared offended, but Loren simply chuckled and Glommish agreed.

  “In a way, my dear. Before they perished, the old gods sired a scant number of children. We four are all who remain, however.”

  “Whoa,” was all Evan could say, his sentiment echoed by Brooke.

  “Don’t be so surprised.” Loren grinned. “You two could have immortality too, afterall.”

  He saw Brooke pale, as if the thought scared her, but he was surprised that it didn’t worry him.

  “Don’t scare them, Nallador,” Glommish chided. “We have no idea at the life expectancy of a demon spawn.”

  “How did you already know about us?” Evan asked. “Vanderain didn’t tell anyone.”

  “I guessed.” Glommish shrugged. “Though don’t worry, I believe I’m probably the only being that could guess. I’ve been telling the council for years that Akirandon’s children lived. She doesn’t strive to hide she has two at Velkarath, people think she’s lying or passing off Dread Lords as human children, but I’ve seen the destruction her children have wrought myself when I visited the city of Karcia, not long after Velkarath’s army passed through it. The traces of dark magic used were too strong for a Dread Lord and stronger even than some of the Disciples.”