“No,” I struggled to say within her grip.
“Shhh,” she hissed. “I’ll make this quick.”
Sensing what she was about to do, I quickly directed a telekinetic shield to my back just as she slammed me against the floor. Had I not, I would have been smashed into paste.
“Stay out of my head!” she yelled, throwing me into the wall.
“You had me fooled,” I coughed, shaking a finger at her. “I believed every lie you fed me. I was about to leave, allowing you to live.”
Her heels clacked as she walked slowly across the stone floor to me. “Oh, I still plan to destroy the dragons, but will you help me or no? Will you give me enough of your blood to duplicate it, or will I have to take it?”
“I can’t trust you to live forever.”
I raised my hand, but she lunged. Her black wings unfurled. She caught my hand and gripped my face in her dark talons.
“Your sacrifice for your people will be remembered for eternity,” she whispered.
Struggling to speak within her grasp, I asked, “Why can’t I live for eternity and tell them of your sacrifice instead?”
Yndra broke into laughter. “No, I think I’ll hang your decapitated corpse over the obsidian egg and drain every last drop of your immortal blood into it.”
“What happened to saving the elves?” I laughed to dispel my fear. “I’m an elf.”
“But you’re a vampire, now, Ambros,” she answered excitedly. “They will not trust you to live among them.”
Yndra’s sharp thumbnail pierced the skin of my palm. Blood oozed from the wound and trickled down my arm. Her forked, black tongue touched it and followed the stream to my hand.
“Mmmm, I just love the taste of blood, don’t you?”
I sent a silent command to my hand where an ethereal blade jutted from my palm, entered the dragon lady’s mouth, and protruded out the back of her head. The blood from my hand added an unexpected vampiric effect to the blade which quickly drew all of her blood into the ethereal plane. Her supple, black skin shriveled and cracked.
“Oooo! It does wonders for the skin. I’ll take it!” I yelled, thinking the effect was similar enough to Devour.
I retracted the blade, and the body immediately began growing to its original size.
“Oh, not this again!”
I ran for the stairs, but the quickly expanding body pushed me toward the center of the room against the edge of the obsidian egg where I tipped over into it. I slid down to the bottom of the hollowed out crystal sphere, and the top fell, slamming into place. I could only see a growing darkness through the smooth walls until the weight of the dragon forced it through the hole in the floor that it rested in. The egg fell to the stone floor of the level beneath it and broke apart. Looking up, I could see the ceiling and the walls of the tower cracking under the pressure of Yndra’s enormity. I ran outside and a safe distance away as the obsidian tower collapsed in on itself, causing tremors throughout the entire city.
Elves and fairies hurried from their homes to see what had happened.
Magma oozed up to the surface, encircling the remains of the tower as it slowly sank into the earth.
Looking to one of the elves standing next to me, I said to him, “That dragon lady could sure fill out a dress. Wooo!” I blew. “But damn, she turned out to be one fat bitch.”
“Is she dead?” I heard someone ask.
“Oh, I’m sure of it,” I answered with a chuckle.
“What should we do?” someone else asked.
One of the older elves spoke up, “We live.”
“We must contact the council and tell them what has transpired,” another elf suggested.
“Baw! Shit on ‘em!” the elder spat. “We don’t need those serpents ruling over us.”
“We have always been free. Yndra was only here to aid us.”
“Not this again,” I sighed, shaking my head before navigating the crowd to leave while they continued to argue.
“The council will send a representative to look for her when she fails to attend their meetings. They will want to know why we didn’t report the accident. It will not look good on us.”
“That’s exactly why they don’t belong in Ashwood; they bring fear with them. We shouldn’t be afraid of those who claim to help us.”
“Going back to my question: What should we do?”
A strong elf sounded, “Now is the time to take a stand and not permit the scale heads entrance. Ashwood is home to the Dark Elves and no other!”
I heard Desynger’s voice within the crowd suggest, “Saleth is right. We report the incident and request that a dragon guardian not be appointed to Ashwood.”
“And if they refuse?”
“We defend our home.”
As I walked up the steps to enter the cave out of Ashwood, I stopped a moment to look back at the city where I was born. I had been gone for so long, most people had forgotten about me, or perhaps they never cared. It’s not like the Dark Elves are known for their hospitality.
Everyone was still gathered around the sunken obsidian tower, discussing their city’s future, when I left Ashwood for the last time. I’m glad Pop sent me to live with the Light Elves. Although, I have fond memories of growing up in the darkness of Ashwood, my heart was in Lylandria with Jinxie. It took some time, but I grew accustomed to and quite fond of the sun. Perhaps in Magestice, I could find a cure to this vampirism I had been cursed with, so I may look upon the sun once again and feel its warmth upon my pale, cold skin.
CHAPTER XV
THE TEMPLE OF HIGH MAGIC
I reached the marble dragon archway leading into the elven city of Magestice. Two dragons were carved and placed on a moss-covered hill that bordered the road. They faced each other, their noses nearly touching. Directly ahead, there was a beautiful gazebo, and in the distance, over the cities many buildings, a tower reached into the sky.
Shaking my head that dragon statues had been erected and not elves, I said, “Well, come on, Horsem,” and I led my undead centaur under the archway into the city. Within the city, elflings played. They pointed wands that launched bolts of energy, but instead of causing harm, they left splats of color. Older elves planted and tended to flowers. The deeper into the city I walked, the more elves I saw sitting together discussing the intricacies of the arcane. They carried ancient grimoires and staves used to focus magical energy.
Houses and buildings were built two stories tall from wood on a base level of stone in a radial pattern around the central tower. Flowering vines grew up the walls and through sun-shaped balcony railings.
Horsem followed me through the magnificent city to the tower. We climbed the steps to the entrance where three bald elves with solid white eyes, wearing white robes, greeted us.
“Welcome to the Temple of High Magic,” one of the elves greeted in a monotone voice.
“Thank you,” I said to him, looking around for anyone else who may be watching.
One of the elves stepped forward and held his hands out to me, palms up. I looked down at them, curious what he wanted.
“This is known as the peaceful greeting, cousin,” he explained. “Place your hands on mine to show you come without weapon or hostility.”
“Of course.”
I placed my open hands on his and instantly felt him probing my thoughts. I slapped his hands down, and the other two elves stepped forward to stand with him.
“I have come peacefully, but you are not welcome to probe my mind.”
“Then you are not welcome to enter!” the elf told me with a stern voice. “Now, take your decrepit ass and get out of here.”
“I know you’re in there!” I yelled up at the tower. “I know you’re watching through the eyes of your guards!”
The three elves flashed their hands at me. I felt a telekinetic force push against me, but instead of being moved by it, I pushed it back to them. Their bodies went hurling against the huge doors. The lead elf looked up at me, surprised he was outm
atched.
“If that’s what you want, I’ll show you right here why I’ve come.” I stripped the cover away that hid the obsidian chest on Horsem’s back. “Within this chest is a dimensional prison containing the phoenix Arethil and the Dragon King Shadowrath. I recovered it from the dwarven kingdom. You must let me pass to place it under your care, High Elves of the temple,” I urged, looking up at the marble tower, finding it odd that there were no windows.
The elves blocking my path stepped aside. “ADMITANCE GRANTED, ELF OF ASHWOOD,” they said in unison with a thunderous voice just as the doors opened to a wall of white light.
“Come on, Horsem.”
Through the brightly lit entrance, we stepped out from a stone archway to a small, moss-covered island encircled by a gently flowing stream. There were no temple walls, only a forest surrounded by mountains and waterfalls under a golden sky streaked with silver clouds. Trees and flowers soaked up the evening sun while elves studied and practiced various schools of magic.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting this,” I said in amazement of the Temple of High Magic’s interior.
Horsem followed me across a stone bridge to explore this alternate world. I thought it strange to see elves sitting at tables reading among shelves of books, but perhaps, it never rained there.
We met two Wood Elves walking by us, heading for the magical doorway to leave. I was about to speak when their eyes turned to me, and my dark vision returned. The skin of everyone around me turned green and then to black before falling away, leaving their muscles and bones exposed. I closed my eyes and stood still, knowing the vision would pass soon.
“Welcome, cousin,” I heard someone say to me. I cracked open one eye to make sure it was safe before opening both to see another Woodland Elf greeting me with a big smile. His long brown hair was braided and hung down his chest, reaching his leather belt. “Are you all right?”
Looking around, I saw that everyone appeared healthy, as they should. “Yes, for now.”
“Which school of magic do you study?”
Noticing a green dragon brooch pinned to his collar, veiled by his long hair, my demeanor toward him changed. I gestured to the skeletal centaur standing behind me and answered, “Your powers of observation serve you well.”
His smile quickly faded as he recognized his mistake.
“It was a good try,” I nodded to ease the blow before walking by. “I’ll show myself around, thank you.”
Assuming the High Elves were teachers, I searched for a group learning advanced spellcasting.
An older elf approached. “Greetings.” He looked over me and Horsem. “Are you here to join a class?”
“I’m here to speak with the High Elves,” I answered as I watched an elf place her hands on the trunk of a willow tree and change the color of its leaves from green to white, making it appear as though the limbs were heavy with icicles.
Pointing up to the golden sky, the elf shook his head. “No one sees the High Elves. They created this dimension within the walls of the temple and now reside above us. When they are ready, they will choose those of us who they deem worthy to take their place,” he explained, gesturing to all those around us.
Many students whispered to one another and laughed that I thought just anyone could see the High Elves. Their laughter came to an abrupt end when a beam of sunlight pierced the clouds to envelop me and my skeletal companion.
“Well, it looks like they’re expecting me,” I said to the astounded elves.
The light lifted us, and Horsem futilely tried to run. I broke into laughter at the sight of him running in air, but the elves below us cried that they deserved to be chosen.
Horsem and I were lifted just above the trees where I felt us pass through a magical barrier. The light that surrounded us went out, and I could feel a solid surface once again beneath my feet, but, it wasn’t stone, it was transparent. Through the floor, I could see the elves below us wiping away their tears and watching the sky as the sun vanished in the west and immediately begin to rise in the east.
The room was too dark for me to see if there were walls, and it appeared empty except for three glass columns that emitted a soft glow. I looked up and saw a nude elf sitting atop each of the three columns. There was a Light Elf, Dark Elf, and a Woodland Elf. I couldn’t tell whether they were male or female. Their eyes were closed in meditation. Their faces were etched with age, and their hair was extremely long, reaching to the floor. The Light Elf’s hair was pale blue, the Dark Elf’s was a soft black, and the Woodland Elf’s was the color of fall leaves.
“My name is Ambros, son of Ambrosius of Ashwood. I have come to place this chest under your care. We must keep it hidden from the world. It was no longer safe where it was, so I brought it here.”
The three elves said nothing. They were as still as the pillars they sat upon.
I unstrapped the obsidian chest from Horsem’s back and placed it on the floor near the pillars. The three elves remained in silent meditation.
“I’ll just show myself out, then,” I announced before turning to look for an exit.
“You are powerful, Ambros, son of Ambrosius of Ashwood,” the Woodland Elf said.
“You could one day take my place,” the Dark Elf told me.
“And stay cooped up in the attic of this temple? I don’t think so.”
The Light Elf spoke up, saying, “The mind can create worlds limited only by its imagination.”
Shaking my head, “You can’t stay in here; we need your help ridding the world of dragons.”
“The world is lost, Ambros,” the Dark Elf spoke. “And we are too few to take it back. They may deny it, but deep down, all elves know the dragons will never relinquish control.”
“So you’d rather dream of a better world ‘til dragon or old age steals you from it?”
I saw them as skeletons sitting upon their glass columns, which wasn’t a stretch from the way they already looked. I turned away, gritting my teeth.
“What do you see?” the Light Elf questioned.
“I see death,” I answered, breathing deeply.
“Everyone dies, Ambros. We, too, will soon go to the Sun.”
I looked back at them, seeing their skeletons fade into their sunken flesh.
The Light Elf then said, “You’re welcome to study here at the temple.”
“And we will watch over the chest,” the Wood Elf announced, “but we cannot keep it safe forever.”
“I understand. I just need time to figure things out.”
“The Age of Elves is over. Except it.”
“I won’t. I can’t,” I argued. “I’ve seen too much to believe our race will be driven to extinction.”
“Then we wish you luck on your quest, brother,” the Dark Elf spoke before sending us back on a beam of light.
CHAPTER XVI
MEETING SYLVIA
For the next several years, I lived a quiet life in Magestice while studying at the Temple of High Magic. A bit large to keep indoors, I buried Horsem’s remains outside my house and chose a smaller creature to assist me with my experiments. I resurrected a fairy that I named Stink. I let her drink my immortal blood from a small dish to see how it affected her. Her body healed to its former beauty, and her wings returned, allowing her to fly again, but her mind was still dull. She could only grunt and growl like the previous dead I had raised. After a week, her body began to decompose again until she lost her ability to fly. I tried submerging her in my blood for days like Byron had done to me only to get the same result.
While taking a break from trying to bring Stink back to life, I began studying what I called my necrovision. Instead of hiding my eyes to the dead visions, I opened my eyes to them. I discovered that my imagination triggered the visions and soon learned how to turn it on and off at will.
While looking out from my porch early one morning with my necrovision, I saw elves heading to the temple as animated cadavers. There was one, however, whose skin remained intact. Unlike ever
yone else who appeared dead, her skin was radiant.
“It cannot be!” I said to myself, making my way down the stairs with Stink flying closely behind me. I hurried to the temple and through the portal. Looking around, I didn’t see her. “Curses!”
I reached for the arm of a nearby elf but withdrew it, not wanting to touch a stranger. “Did you see where she went?”
“Of whom do you speak?” I was asked politely.
The clarity of the question from one who appeared dead took me briefly by surprise. “The one with skin!” I described hastily.
The elf, still raw and bloody, tilted his head to the side. “Pardon?”
“She was just here, a Woodland Elf with brown hair,” I described, but the elf shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “Uh, books!” I remembered. “She carried an armful of books.”
Pointing a raw finger through the trees to a group of book shelves, he answered, “Perhaps she returned her books to the library.”
I thanked him and ran into the forest to an area with many tall book shelves filled with tomes and scrolls. There were a few elves studying that I saw with my necrovision, and, like a flower growing in a cemetery, I saw the beautiful elf maiden reading at a table. Her brown, luxurious tresses fell over her shoulders, and like most Woodland Elves, she had olive skin to help her blend into the forest.
Not wishing to interrupt, I walked over and sat quietly across from her. Stink hovered nearby. Taking another look around the library, I saw that everyone still appeared as rotting corpses, but the young woman across from me remained flawless. Closing my eyes for a moment, my vision returned to normal.
“You have nice skin,” I finally spoke.
Without looking away from her book, she responded dryly, “Thanks. I was born with it.”
I leaned forward to get a better view of the book she was reading. “Are you aware that you’re reading that upside down?”
Again, she answered in the same neutral tone without turning her attention to me. “You’re the one who’s upside down. The book is right-side up to me.”
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