Together they ascended a set of stairs that led to another cave. It was dark inside the rocky crevice, and icicles hung from the ceiling like lethal knives, but Aurora’s hand was firm as she escorted him. Suddenly, a wave of icy air stung his face and then…stars. Millions and millions of twinkling stars as far as the eye could see. She had brought him above ground to a spot nestled within the mountain slopes.
“Where are we?” Patrick asked in amazement.
“This,” Aurora began with arms widespread, “is the top of the glacier Frostisen. For thousands of years we’ve made our home inside the mountains, underneath the frozen ice. No one in the outside world knows of our existence.” She smiled warmly at him. “I come to the surface often, even though I’m not supposed to.”
“Why come here?” Patrick asked. “It’s freezing.”
“Because of this,” she explained, tilting her chin up to gaze at the heavens. “I must be allowed to gaze upon the stars, for their light forever sustains me.” She brought her wonder-filled gaze back earth level. “Will you look at them with me?”
Patrick was so enthralled that he could only nod mutely again. He watched as the woman lay back on the ice sheet and gazed upon the sky, her face aglow with some inner joy.
Patrick lay down next to her. He knew her from somewhere, but where? Then it hit him. Her bone structure mimicked the fossils back at the university. Patrick couldn’t help himself. He reached out and ran his fingers through her silver hair, gently tucking a stand behind her ear, exposing the pointy tips underneath.
“What are you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Aurora’s violet eyes met his and softened.
“I’m an elf,” she responded.
Patrick gave a sharp inhale. How could he believe such a statement? He was an anthropologist, a scientist who analyzed the evolution of humans for as long as they’d been in existence. Never had he come across evidence leading to the idea that the human race may not be the only one to occupy this planet.
“This has to be a hoax?” he blurted out. “Elves aren’t for real!
“Even the Vikings recognized the existence of elves,” Aurora replied.
“But, where did you come from?” Patrick asked with a deep frown.
“The race of elves can be traced back to the origins of this very universe, the same as humans,” Aurora answered “For everything that exists in this universe originated from the same seed of life. Some of them became stars while others became planets and moons.”
She looked at him with eyes as gentle as a summer breeze. “Elves are born of the stars,” she whispered in excitement. “Their very essence sustains our souls, just like after our creation, their burning light bore us away to distant worlds.” She grabbed his hand unexpectedly, and the heat of her skin immediately warmed his.
“Your race, humans, was formed from the planetary elements, and the evidence of that surrounds you every day.”
A moment of silence passed between the man and the she-elf. He would have discredited everything Aurora was saying if not for the evidence of fossilized elf bones sitting in a box back at the University of Narvik.
“How old are you?” he asked.
“I’m not immortal, if that’s what you mean,” she answered. “Each elf’s soul is bound to a living star.” Patrick wrinkled his brow in confusion, and Aurora laughed softly. “We live a few thousand years. For elves, once the starlight burns out, our lives are extinguished.” She shifted her gaze back to the ink black sky and sighed.
“Can I admit something to you.” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “I am never as happy as I am right here, in this spot, closest to the stars.”
Patrick put his hands behind his head and watched Aurora as she gazed happily at the heavens.
“Are all those who dwell in Frostisen elves?” he asked. Portia and Asmund were both beautiful and graceful, like her, but to his surprise Aurora answered, “No, not exactly.”
“Are there any others of your kind in Frostisen?” he asked. The elf looked away with downcast eyes.
“I can show you what remains of my kin, but it may not be what you expect.” As lithely as a swan, the elf stood up and gestured for Patrick to follow her back into the cave.
***
Before long, the pair came across an underground mausoleum. Its roof was dome-shaped, and a sweeping staircase led to the top. Once upon landing, Patrick saw how deep the crypt went, for dozens of stone coffins we housed underneath it. And at the head of each tomb, guarding the memory of Frostisen’s dead, was a life-size statue carved out of glacier ice. He was surprised that such a gothic and dreary underground world could hold such enchantment.
Aurora had meandered over to one of the ice sculptures and was peering up into its insipid face. The statue glowed with the same blue luminosity like the rest of Frostisen’s ice, although it appeared more turbid in the dim light.
“This is all that is left of my kind,” Aurora disclosed to him. “The early inhabitants of Solheim carved these sculptures as homage to fallen elves.”
“What happened to them?” he probed.
“You must understand, not all elves are good,” Aurora began. “And my kin were not the first to come down from the cosmos and settle on the earth. Other elves came before us and lived for many generations. At first, they indulged in the earthly pleasures of your world by copulating with humans. Eventually, they abandoned the starlight and fled underground, dwelling in the dark corners of the earth, in order to stay hidden from its beam. Eventually, the darkness hardened their hearts, and they turned their idle hands towards inflicting strife on humans.”
“Many wars have been waged between elves that serve the light and those who bow to the dark. My kin fought great battles on the very slopes of these mountains against the dark elves so that we might rid the world of their wickedness. All of my family died in those battles, and I am all who remain.”
Patrick was speechless, and his heart ached at the thought of the beautiful she-elf living out each day shrouded in grief for her lost family. Unable to say anything to comfort her, Patrick turned around and began walking along the rows of tombs, examining the shrine of elves. He froze mid-step when he got the eerie feeling that someone was stalking him in the gloomy shadows of the mausoleum. Nothing moved under the dome roof, and nothing could be heard except for his own pounding heart. The ice sculptures at the head of each coffin cast human-shaped shadows across the granite floor, and they appeared to sway back and forth like hovering ghosts in his sight.
“We should call it a night,” Aurora called out to him. With another uneasy glance at the ice statues, Patrick nodded in agreement. Aurora silently escorted the doctor back to his chambers, and as soon as his head hit the fur pillow, he was asleep.
***
Sometime during the night, Patrick was shaken from his slumber by the vibration of drums rumbling deep within the glacial kingdom. Curious, he got out of bed and followed the melodic beats through the maze of corridors, intent on finding its origin. As the sound grew closer, Patrick also heard voices chanting in unison. The hallway finally opened up into an enormous chamber bathed in candlelight. The room was crowded with people, and they were standing with their backs toward him, arms interlocked. They were swaying back and forth to the cadence of the drums, reciting some sort of mantra in a hypnotic-like state.
As Patrick’s eye’s scanned the room the, he could see the Ruler, Asmund, and Portia at the front of the hall, but the oscillation of people before him kept interrupting his view. Patrick found a foothold in the ice where a piece of cave rock protruded, and he hoisted himself up so he could see above the mass of people. In front of the Ruler was an altar shaped like an eight point star, and sprawled out on the surface lie a figure. She rested on her back and her arm dangled lifelessly next to the slab.
A large copper goblet sat underneath the woman’s hand, and a steady dribble of crimson blood flowed from her wrist into the cup underneath. The thick red fluid was filling the goble
t and draining the life of its bearer in the process. Patrick watched as the Ruler bent down to retrieve the brimming goblet, replaced it with a new one, then passed it Asmund who drank from it. The goblet was then passed through the crowd, each person singing their incantation before consuming the blood of the dying woman. Patrick had to fight through his revulsion to understand what the people of Frostisen where chanting.
“Sangue. Sangue. Sangue.”
And when the sacrificial person turned her face towards him, her skin as white as snow and her lips as blue as the ice she laid upon, Patrick cried out in horror.
“Aurora!” he screamed. The doctor jumped down to the ground and bulldozed through the crowd until he reached the altar. Asmund lunged to intercept him, but Patrick swung his fist at the man’s perfect face. With the crack of his jawbone, Asmund crumpled to the ground.
Patrick kicked the goblet with his foot, spilling its contents across the floor. He could hear the Ruler and the guards rushing forth to arrest him, but all Patrick could think about was saving Aurora. He scooped the elf into his arms, draping her bleeding arm over his shoulder to slow the rush of blood from her slashed vein. Without thinking, Patrick grabbed the bloody knife from the altar. He held it to Aurora’s throat.
“If you touch me, I’ll kill her,” he threatened. This stopped the Ruler from advancing, and his eyes were illuminated with rage.
“You’re a fool to interfere with the ancient magic of Frostisen!” the Ruler growled.
“I don’t care!” Patrick yelled back. “I won’t let you hurt her!”
Any other time, the doctor wouldn’t have dared stand up to someone of the Ruler’s size, but knowing Aurora was hurt made his desire to protect her even stronger. Before the Ruler’s sentinels had a chance to charge at him, Patrick turned around and fled back the way he came.
The Ruler yelled in rage. “Find him and kill him! Bring the elf back unspoiled!”
Patrick didn’t know if it was adrenaline that drove him forward or his surfacing affections for the elf of Frostisen; all he knew was that he had to save her from the Ruler’s torment.
“There’s a hidden alcove to the right,” Aurora whispered in his ear. “Turn there.”
Patrick complied, made a sharp cut to the right and dipped underneath a heavy tapestry. A trail of sentinels hauled passed the room without giving it a second glance. Patrick ran until his legs gave way and he stumbled to the ground. Aurora was still held securely in his arms, and he laid her on the frozen ground. Her arm was gushing fluid, and her dress was soaked in her own blood.
“I need to stop the bleeding,” Patrick insisted. He looked around frantically for something to use as a tourniquet.
At that moment, Patrick’s resolve hardened, and he realized that maybe his accidental discovery of Frostisen wasn’t an accident at all. Suddenly the doctor didn’t care what it took, he would seek justice for the wrongdoings done towards the elf and her fallen people. Patrick began ripping free the folds of Aurora’s dress and bandaging them over slashed wrists. After several minutes of medical attention, the wound was finally beginning to clot.
She gave a deep, shaky breath. “They will come back for us, Patrick.”
With his hands braced on the floor of the cave and his inner thoughts on the verge of pandemonium, Patrick glared at Aurora and said, “Explain to me what’s going on! I deserve to know why my life is in danger! What aren’t you telling me?” Aurora’s faraway eyes focused on him, and there was a hint of guilt behind them.
“I’m sorry,” Aurora began softly. “I should have warned you earlier…I just didn’t know how to.”
“What were they doing to you in there?” he demanded. His insides were boiling as he thought about Aurora lying nearly dead upon the altar.
“Remember how you asked me if all those who dwelled within Frostisen were elves?” she asked.
Patrick nodded.
“All the inhabitants of this underground world are half-breeds, offspring of the early Nordic settlers and the dark elves. Unfortunately, the half-breeds lack the beauty, longevity, and strength of the elven race. But they do possess a very evil magic, inherited from the elves they are descendant from.”
“In the tenth century, my kin nearly defeated the dark elves dwelling in in these mountains and cast them out of Solheim, but they underestimated the host of half-breeds the elves had created to serve their growing armies. They brutally attacked us, and when the last battles between the half-breeds and fair elves were waged upon the mountains, my kin were outnumbered, overtaken, and killed.”
“The half-breeds are a bitter and vengeful lot, for they hate the dark elves who made them and the covet the gifts the fair elves possess. The Ruler, the one who killed my family, was envious of my gifts– my beauty, my near immortality, and my endurance. The Ruler allowed his radical views to poison his mind, and he experimented on me for many years. He believed that ingesting the blood of a fair elf would change him back into what the dark elves use to be, which was like us. As it turns out, the vitality and pureness of elven blood did sustain him, for he grew taller, sturdier, and as handsome as a morning sunrise.”
“The Ruler had everything his heart desired: his enemies defeated, control of his own dominion, and the luxury to indulge in the black magic of the dark elves. Unfortunately, the Ruler discovered the effects of our blood, the sangue, did not last. He would have to keep drinking it, every month as the new moon rises, to keep from dying a mortal death. And so it has become; I am the Queen of Frostisen, a giver of life… and a captive to it.”
Patrick didn’t respond to her, for his mind was deep in thought, and for several minutes, silence hung in the air like a heavy fog.
“Patrick?” Aurora eventually croaked out. The man shifted his preoccupied gaze back to her. “I think they took too much this time. I’m beginning to loose feeling…”
Patrick felt his chest constrict in fear, and he rushed back over to her. “What do you need? How can I help you?” he asked frantically.
“Starlight,” she whispered then her head went limp.
With an earnestness he’d never felt before, Patrick grabbed the unconscious elf, threw her over his shoulder and began backtracking to the cave and outside to the glacier Frostisen.
As he exited the cave mouth, an icy gale whipped about him, chilling him to the bone. Such a thick layer of clouds covered the night sky that no stars were visible. Patrick looked down wildly at the elf, and her chest was barely moving as she tried to draw in shaky breaths.
“There’s no starlight!” he exclaimed. “Tell me what to do! How else can I save you?”
But Aurora had already slipped into unconsciousness, and the last elf of Frostisen lay dying in his arms. The doctor’s eyes suddenly focused on the mountainside where the cave was located. The cliffs rose high up into the air, and its pinnacle disappeared beyond the grey clouds. A realization immediately hit him.
“Aurora,” he whispered to himself. “Aurora! The Northern Lights!”
With a determination Patrick didn’t know he had, the doctor threw the elf over his shoulder with the intent to climb the flat side of the mountain until he was beyond the hovering mists. Patrick didn’t understand why he was so confident that he could scale the threatening rock formation. He had no athletic ability to speak of, and he was deathly afraid of heights.
With one arm, he wiggled out of his jacket and used it to tightly secure Aurora to his upper body. Patrick bolted over to the cliff before him, leapt into the air, and landed on the rocky face with a grunt. His fingers instantly found their grip and his shoes dug their way into the rocky crevices. He looked above him and saw nothing but mountain reaching high into the heavens.
He ascended the mountain like a pro, as if every nook and cranny was designed as a foothold especially for him. He muscles didn’t tire and his heart pumped blood and oxygen steadily through his lungs. Even the added weight of the elf didn’t slow him down. The doctor was hundreds of feet into the air now, and hazy cl
ouds surrounded him in every direction. He refused to stop until he saw the Northern Lights. They were Aurora’s only saving grace.
Suddenly, through the wall of heavy mist, Patrick could make out ribbons of vibrant color reaching across the heavens. He laughed out loud as he watched them waver, like light being projected through a prism onto the black sky. To his right, Patrick saw a small cliff that looked wide enough to fit both man and elf. He forced himself to claw up the rock like a spider, and once he was within distance, was able to balance himself and deposit Aurora onto the rocky ledge before crawling up and over himself. Aurora still lay still and lifeless, but Patrick knew there was no more he could do.
The brilliance of the Northern Lights wafted over them, silent but beautiful. Patrick watched awestruck as the colors of jade and indigo unfolded across the only universe he knew. The colors seemed to be moving in closer and closer to Aurora, who lay immobile on the edge of the cliff. Then, like some supernatural phenomena, the aurora borealis moved in around the elf with colors so brilliant that Patrick had to look away. It surrounded her like a cocoon, and the powerful light lifted her up into the air until she was levitating thousands of feet above the earth.
Aurora’s ageless skin began to glow as her unearthly being absorbed the sustenance of the starlight. Her veins were illuminated by the magic of her origin, and her body blazed like ropes of rainbow had been woven into her very essence. When it was done healing her, the Lights gently laid her back on the cliff and retracted back into the sky where its beauty continued to shine. The elf’s eyes fluttered open and they instantly centered on Patrick.
“How did you know what to do?” she whispered.
“I’m a scientist, remember?” Patrick repressed his smile as he leaned in closer to her. “The Northern Lights are caused by solar flares hitting the earth’s atmosphere, and the sun is nothing other than earth’s star. It only makes sense.”
The Elf of Frostisen Page 2
