by JD Cole
“This shi’un is meant to calm you by keeping thoughts of him from your mind. How are you..?”
Kelli shrugged. “The Birthright, I guess. So can we?”
Sorvir shook his head. “The Goblin King prevents it. Somehow, he has been able to shield himself, even in shi’un. The Earth’s memories of his life flow like oil through your mind if you try to see him or anything around him. The memories are still there, we simply cannot focus on them. Likewise, he has used powerful magic to prevent scrying across all the Shadowlands.”
“What do you mean, the memories are hidden?”
“It cannot be an easy task to control how others see Earth’s memories of you. We could probably use shi’un to see him outside the Shadowlands any time after the Ythsimerin was created. Those moments would be few, indeed. But almost nothing of his life after his exile is available to us except in our own history books, and nothing of his life in the Shadowlands, either. Any shi’un spell trying to see Ercianodhon is like trying to follow a specific drop of water in a river. No one knows how he accomplished this.”
“Well,” Kelli said, standing up, “if that spell isn’t an option, it’s time we got started on something else. Teach me, Sorvir. I know you’re not Dufangen, but you still know tons more about magic than I do. Give me my foundation, so I’ll be ready to take the next step after I wake up. And... I want to focus on healing. I wanna make it my mindset.” She thought back to her anger at the mosquitos. “I have an anger problem. I always have. And I can’t afford to lose my temper ever again.”
Sorvir stood, bowing and smiling. “Yes, my Queen. And if I may, I believe this would also be a good opportunity to get you familiar with casting shi’un on your own.”
“But, I thought before, you said that I wasn’t ready?”
“I do not believe that to be the case any longer. Once you have recovered, accessing shi’un could aid you greatly in your studies, and increase your familiarity with faery cultures. You are wise enough now to understand the responsibility on your shoulders.”
“Thanks. That means a lot.”
Sorvir stood straight and closed his eyes, willing their surroundings to change. The trio found themselves in what appeared to be a large classroom, surrounded by young sprites seated at desks. A gray-robed sprite with violet eyes stood at the front of the class, readying a lecture, and Sorvir gestured Kelli to an empty desk beside a young sprite boy. “If you would please take a seat next to my younger self, Highness?” He grinned as Kelli stepped in close to inspect boy-Sorvir.
Kelli looked up at him after confirming she recognized the boy, smiling and climbing up to seat herself in the empty desk beside him. “Shall we begin?” The teacher from Sorvir’s shi’un memory asked.
~ ~ ~ ~
“Are you able to contact your fellow Paladins?” Derek asked Lumina.
“Yes. I will make a show of my ‘spell’ when I have need to report back.”
Derek nodded. “I’m thinking we’ll need more representation from your city, and a quick way to transport your gear and troops to a joint staging area. We’ll have to convince the sprites to either bring them here, or figure out some neutral ground for the meeting.”
“Agreed.”
“And you guys,” Derek pointed to Marc as he walked over, close enough to whisper to him. “I know your metahuman friend can hear us and is probably reporting it all to your leadership.” Marc flinched at the abrupt revelation that the Hood somehow knew about Samantha’s power. The vigilante continued, “We’re gonna’ have to get more representation from your people, as well, not to mention we need you to get your weapons and gear. Whoever is listening, you make sure they get how serious this is. The faeries do not trust humans, for very good reasons that I don’t have time to get into. We need your guys to be My Little Pony levels of friendly during this first contact. Please tell me you understand that the next day or two is going to determine whether humanity lays the foundation for peaceful coexistence, or pointless animosity, regardless of whether you participate in the rescue or not.”
“I get it Hood,” Marc said seriously. “Believe me, even though I’m having a hard time processing all of this, I have zero interest in making enemies.”
“Okay,” the Hood nodded. “When we figure out what we’re doing for this epic meeting, you need to be able to signal your people if we want to open a wormhole back to Earth for you so there’s no surprises.”
“Yeah, that shouldn’t be a problem.” Samantha had last touched him several hours ago, and her pheromones lingered for at least two days before dying or dissolving or whatever they did at the end of their expiration. Just to be sure, he could also use the vial she’d given him when the time came.
Derek waved at the rest of Marc’s troops to gather around so that he could speak without raising his voice. Lumina also hovered close to listen. “Here’s the deal, guys. Our technology is as alien to faeries as their magic is to us. Even though Lumina here knows how to cast legit magic spells, he also puts on a show for the faeries to make them think his tech is just a human discipline of magic. I suggest you guys do the same when it comes to using any of your gear... including radios, drones, whatever. All of us are happier the less questions we get asked, yes?”
Heads nodded in agreement with his logic.
“Alright, good talk.”
~
“Back” on Earth, Samantha Vox sat at a workstation with her eyes closed, her fingers furiously typing everything she was hearing and seeing. Around the room, several analysts and Samantha’s brother, Sean, sat or stood with datapads all running the same chat application that displayed Samantha’s transcription in real time. As the Hood concluded his huddle with their troops, Samantha opened her eyes and began rubbing her neck and shoulders. She hadn’t realized how tense she was, keeping focus on everything she was experiencing through the pheromones she’d left on Marc and a couple of the others.
“This is hard to believe, sir,” one of the analysts said.
“I’m still not quite buying it. That they’re on Mars,” said another.
General Sean Vox grunted in agreement, sounding much like a lion as he did so. No one was surprised at the sound, as Sean also looked like a lion. Unlike his twin sister Samantha, Sean had been born with the full metahuman curse of looking like a science experiment, melding a man with the king of cats. He stood almost ten feet tall and weighed over six hundred pounds, most of it muscle. Like his sister, he had claws and fangs, but unlike Samantha, he could not hide them, and while he had no tail, he did have a literal mane around his face.
After the battle of Boston and its subsequent investigations had decimated Strategic Sciences, Sean had also become the de facto leader of what remained of that organization. Despite his rank being unofficial –there had been nobody left to actually promote him— virtually everyone agreed that the role suited him well; Sean Vox was a born leader, with a sharp mind for both diplomatic and military matters.
“I have to agree, Peter,” General Vox said, scrolling back through the transcription to make sure he hadn’t missed devouring a single word or its context.
Samantha stood, clenching and stretching her long fingers to work out the keyboard-induced cramping. “Getting them home and figuring out what these creatures are, whether they are a threat, is what we need to focus on.”
“The Hood said they’re your ancestors,” an analyst offered.
“Bollocks,” Samantha spat. “We’re humans, no matter what we look like.”
“Can’t just dismiss the possibility,” the analyst replied.
“Enough!” the General growled. “Davison,” he looked at the analyst who’d been antagonizing his sister. “I want you guys to pick apart all the background stuff in here,” he waved the datapad for emphasis. Samantha hadn’t just been transcribing what everyone was saying, she also had created another file that contained detailed information of the environment, to include area-size estimates, temperature and humidity estimates, and architecture descr
iptions, among other things. She also described the faeries and the Hoods in as detailed a fashion as she could.
“Yes, General,” Davison nodded, waving his team members to follow him to their offices where they’d begin poking at the intel to try and make sense of it all.
Sean took a deep breath, uneasy at the whole situation. “Right, then. Sam, are you sure Dr. Valentine is still all right?”
Samantha nodded. “She was left out of that little confab on purpose. The Hood was presenting military matters to our guys. It seems he doesn’t consider her opinions very valuable on that topic.”
“As long as she’s in no danger. Alright, people, we have a lot to process, but it sounds like official First Contact is ours to claim. I am going to move forward on the assumption these beings are at least neutral, if not friendly. One, they were passive and cooperative with Marc’s team in Nanortalik. Two, we share a common enemy in that Argus alien. Three, if Gemlorry is representative of their character, we can work with them to find common interests. And finally, it appears Kelli took our men captive only because they got themselves in a Mexican stand-off and took a shot at her friend, the Hood. To date, hey have not mistreated their prisoners.
“So, I want two teams to do set up right now. First team –Colonel Richards, pick seven of your men for this, and you lead them. I want six ValianT platforms with squad autos and support packages, and two with the heavy stuff. I only want you ready as a show of force... but be prepared to act if things go sideways.
“Colonel Whitman, your platoon is the diplomatic party with me. Full MIRK armor for everybody, armed as you like. We are going to treat this like a joint good-will exercise with a foreign power. If it becomes something else,” he looked at Colonel Richards, “your team makes sure it’s a fair fight.”
Colonel Richards raised an eyebrow for clarification, and Samantha smiled. “In our dictionary, Colonel, ‘fair fight’ means our people come home safe and sound. Screw everybody else.”
Another analyst raised a finger to catch the General’s attention. “What about Gemlorry, sir? Do we wanna bring that elf with us?”
General Vox shook his head. Gemlorry had been left behind during the elves’ hasty retreat following the battles in Nanortalik. The elf-girl had been badly wounded and unable to rendezvous with her fellow elves, but she was discovered by the S2 soldiers and given medical attention. She’d made a full recovery in a stunningly short time, and was continually proving herself a grateful, cooperative guest.
“Gemlorry is helping Mr. Nichols and his team up north, we’ll leave her be for now until we know exactly what we’re dealing with. They’ve got our team members in their world, it’s only fair we keep one of theirs to exchange if we need to.”
~ ~ ~ ~
“I cannot believe what we are about to do,” Nonder said to Dufangen. The two mystics stood with their fourteen fellow council members – half of the entire mystic population – on a stage in the largest of Windham’s theaters. The theater could seat nearly five thousand, its stage large enough to park a passenger jet on.
With the mystic were the heads of the sprite families, including Brevha Moniscii. Joining them all was the war council led by the vampyre Pembruh, Meshra, along with Lumina and his elf companions, and finally, Derek and the human pseudo-captives. A large table was placed in the middle of the stage, tilted upward at an angle so that it could be viewed by anyone facing it.
Dufangen nodded her agreement to Nonder, then looked to Brevha and motioned for her to begin.
Brevha glanced to one of the sprites, mindspeaking privately with him. “Are you sure you are ready for this, Monwyn?”
Monwyn kept his gaze roaming across the stage’s occupants, silently replying. “I would be lying if I said I was ‘ready’, Brevha. But I am willing to do this for the Crown.”
“The mystics will be keeping an eye on you, but even so you have our gratitude for volunteering, Monwyn.” Kelli’s aunt then stepped out and audibly called attention. “Everyone, please, time is short, and we have much to coordinate in this... this unprecedented gathering. I would like to request two members from each of the groups present, individuals of authority, to join me here near the table. The rest of you, please take seats in the front rows.”
With the exception of the mystics, who all remained on stage, everyone else did as asked. Marc and Valentine spoke for the humans; Meshra and a sprite named Serann on behalf of the war council; Lumina represented Tirapan.
The Hood remained on stage representing himself.
With everyone seated, Brevha nodded. “My friends. Before the ascendance of Queen Kelli, no human had ever set foot in this castle. Now we practically have the makings of a human village within our walls... but perhaps that is not such a frightening thing. Many of you,” she looked directly at the section where Marc’s troops were seated, “had a hand in aiding our new Queen when she was most vulnerable. And Lumina,” she looked at the Paladin, “saved her not once, but twice. The old wars are past, and at least for this moment in time, we are willing, even eager, to accept assistance from humans to save the queen once more. You are not your ancestors, and we cannot hold you responsible for their actions any more than you could hold us responsible for the actions of ours.
“I know my words are mysteries to you. I apologize. Faeries are strangers to you, but humans are not strangers to us. Perhaps in time, our libraries may open to you so that you can learn of our shared history. Much of it is... unpleasant. But not all. Queen Kelli, for example, is a bridge between our peoples. Part human, part sprite. Raised by you in your world, but given power and authority by us in ours.
“After much deliberation, we have decided that, should your leaders agree,” she kept her focus on Colonel Tritt and Dr. Valentine, “we invite your people to travel here, joining us for this historic gathering. Further, with the queen indisposed, we have also decided that in the interest of good will, whether you choose to aid us or not, you will be free to return home once the deliberations have concluded.”
The humans all murmured in surprise at this revelation. The Hood’s posture straightened, and though his eyes were not glowing, the mask mimicked his brow furrowing.
“You were counting on their help,” Undine observed from within him.
“Yes. The scenarios I have in mind require their firepower. Let’s hope their curiosity wins out and keeps them here.”
Brevha continued. “We have reasons why the gathering must be here. First, nowhere in the realm is shielded from the Goblin King more effectively right now than this auditorium. We can guarantee he will not be able to spy on us here.
“Secondly, trust must be built between humans and faeries. We realize that asking humans to trust in us first, while we ask for your aid, is ridiculous. So, in addition to letting you judge us by your treatment in our custody, we also are offering to send one of our own, prince Monwyn,” she gestured to the sprite as he stepped forward, “as a jjenysin, a collatoral exchange, if you will. As your fellow humans engage in talks with us here, he will wait on Earth, to return to us only when you have returned home, whether or not you decide to aid us.”
The sprye looked at Marc. “Colonel Marc Tritt. The Hood has informed me that you should be able to communicate with your home world, but that it is difficult and taxing for you. Is this true?”
Marc looked at the Hood, then nodded. “Theoretically, yes.”
“Do we need to lower our protective shields to make it easier?”
Marc thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. I can try to make contact before you do anything.”
“Very well. Do you believe your leadership will find our proposal agreeable?”
“I… I will try to reach out, but I don’t know for sure they can hear me,” Marc replied, trading looks with Valentine. “Give me a few minutes to see what I can do.” He pressed fingers to his temple and began whispering to Samantha, hoping she could hear.
Brevha nodded, and turned Lumina. “Master Paladin, are your planner
s ready to join us?”
“Give me a moment, Deschin,” he replied. Lumina stood straight and began creating symbols in the air with his hands, his arms moving like a martial artist’s kata. His fingertips glowed, leaving trails of red and gold light as he moved. It was a very intricate and graceful display, with enough purpose behind each movement that Derek believed Lumina wasn’t improvising. He wondered if Paladins all learned how to cast “radio spells” like this.
Lumina kept his eyes closed as his transceiver opened. “Doma. Lumina Ja’Gracin calls to you now. The sprites seek permission to open the gate, to bring you to the great gathering.” He nodded slowly and opened his eyes. “They are ready, Deschin.”
Brevha looked to the mystics, who all bowed their heads. An ethergate ripped open before them, revealing a grassy field where two Doma and four Paladins stood waiting. Three Paladins were dressed similarly in Tirapan’s famous, shiny white armor, but slightly bulkier than the armor Lumina had worn on the quest to save Queen Kelli. The fourth wore plainly colored, high-quality robes. The quartet stepped through after bowing to their Doma, and the ethergate immediately closed behind them. All four then bowed their heads respectfully to Brevha.
“Deschin,” said the eldest of the armored Paladins, who looked to be in his late thirties. “I am Second-Mark Ennis of the Ekisharen Arsenal, part of Tirapan’s military forces.”
“Well met,” Brevha bowed in return.
“Allow me to introduce Fourth-Marks Julian and Bacten,” he motioned to the other two armored Paladins. They were both young, possibly in their mid-twenties. “And this,” he waved to the robed Paladin, also much younger than the Second-Mark, “is Proctern Bartley, one of our top scholars. We have come representing the forces who will aid you in any way we can to rescue the queen’s father.”
“Your aid is most welcome, Second-Mark, I assure you. If your men wouldn’t mind taking seats with the others, while you join Lumina? We have one more visit to arrange.”
