by Alex Sapegin
The old elf woke up. His arms didn’t want to bend; they were creaking from the pressure. He managed to sit up. He was dizzy; his back was like wood. He had been around too long already in this world, but one hope kept him clinging to his existence. The true bloods and the dragons should return to Ilanta! He wanted to see their return. Without them, the world wouldn’t perish, but it would be irrevocably changed, even from what it was now. The old elf felt for his crutch and wanted to ring the gong with it, to send a message upstairs that he had awoken, but something stopped him. A smell. It smelled like the children of the true bloods and the dragons. Impossible! He couldn’t be mistaken, and he wasn’t. The scent was strong and told him that the owner was somewhere nearby. The gods had stripped him of his sight a long time ago, but had compensated him with an improved sense of smell. It smelled like wind, wings and wood lilies… yes, lilies!
Getting the better of the pain in his joints, the old elf opened the secret door and went into the hall. The smell was stronger. A slight draft told him that the source of the scent was in the archives.
After a few minutes of carefully and stealthily approaching, true vision isolated a single figure behind a wide table in the corner.
The old elf got closer. He couldn’t walk silently anymore; he had to hide under a “curtain of silence.” Other shields fully masked his presence. A rare, now forgotten spell caused the boy to not sense his presence at all.
“Your scent… I haven’t smelled that in so long, nor have I sensed anything that could be compared with it. We’d lost hope. Who are you, boy?” The creaky old voice made Andy jump and turn around, knocking the book he’d been reading to the ground with his elbow. It hit the floor in a cloud of dust.
A Rauu! But by the gods he’s old! The years had bent his back and drawn deep wrinkles on his forehead. The skin on his neck hung in layers and was covered in patches of pigment. The elf’s eyes had long since lost their bluish color, turned white and been covered over by the fog of old age. They were increasingly surrounded by a labyrinth of fine lines. His hands trembled slightly. His once thick, now sparse silver locks hung about his shoulders in an unkempt fashion. No one lives THAT long! Is it even possible? I’ve never even heard of elves getting wrinkles. Yes, this must be the walking history of Alatar, nothing else! And how did he manage to get so close? Where did he come from? The archives are locked from the inside. Questions swirled in head like a swarm of angry bees.
“Who are you?” Andy finally got over his initial amazement.
“Miduel.” Okay. So that’s what the creak of old chairs or doors sounds like… “Don’t be afraid. I won’t tell anyone your secret.”
Miduel? Andy remembered—Miduel!
“No one can systematize this material while our legend, master Miduel, has gone into hibernation again.” I think rector Etran said that two weeks ago. So this is who she was talking about!
“What do you mean? You’re master Miduel?” Apparently, master Miduel had woken up!
“Who are your ancestors? Where does your blood come from?” the old elf ignored Andy’s question. He was lifting his chin and crunching his fleshy nose in a funny manner. A Rauu with a fleshy nose. Andy smiled involuntarily. Age hadn’t been kind. He once again raised his head on his thin neck and moved it forward. The light of the magical lantern lit his face. His pupils did not react at all to the light. Andy guessed it, and his revelation made him shiver again. A blind elf!
“I’ve been blind for a long time, but I can see even better than those with vision,” the Rauu confirmed Andy’s guess. He directed his lifeless eyes towards Andy again. Hm, I know snakes can sometimes hypnotize their victims by looking at them with their dead eyes; death hides behind their gaze; but what’s behind this Rauu’s eyes focused in one direction? … Is it recognition? Hope? He said they had lost hope. Hope for what? How can that be? The Rauu can see, too. Using true vision.
“What’s the name of the dragon who gave you a second life? I see your aura. It doesn’t look like a human’s. And your smell. That’s what a dragon’s wings smell like after a long flight. Like wind, clouds, and a sweet musk. And you’re very young. You smell like lily.”
Andy grabbed the back of the chair he was in, cutting the covering with his sharp claws. I didn’t expect these questions, not this kind of questions! Not at all! Where did you come from all of a sudden? Questions ran through his mind. You crazy old elf! The Rauu took two shaky steps dragging his unbending legs and grabbed on to the top of the table behind which Andy carried out his work in the archives.
“I beg you, answer! Tell me, please!” the old one’s voice cracked, then went to a scratchy whisper. Tears appeared in the deep recesses of his wrinkles. Hey, gramps! What, did someone steal your candy? Crocodile tears? I thought you were a man, but what are those wet spots on your cheeks? The old elf teetered and started to fall backwards. Getting up quickly, Andy caught the Rauu’s surprisingly light body and carried him to a leather sofa in another corner of the room. I ought to be glad the spies the rector sent to watch over me aren’t here today. There had been a delegation from the Light Forest. The sniffers had found something else to do, and a good thing, too, otherwise those guys would have found this scene very strange indeed. Andy laid the elf on the couch.
“Karegar. My father’s name is Karegar,” he said quietly. Andy didn’t want the old elf to die right then and there. His intuition told him he wasn’t dangerous. The old Rauu had recognized him as a dragon right away, so there was no point in denying it. This meant he had seen them and been around them before; it was worth having a talk.
“Father? That old black spot of pepper’s still smoking the sky? Black Karegar’s become a daddy again?” the Rauu asked in amazement, coughing strenuously and lifting himself up on his elbow. A questioning look came into his lifeless eyes. He doesn’t believe me. What a shame. “Forgive me for asking such a question, boy—how old are you? Karegar Gurd couldn’t be your father. He’s not a true blood. There are no true bloods in Ilanta.”
How about that!! What, they know each other? This old guy knows daddy’s nest. Quite a sharp old grandpa. And Karegar may be a spot of pepper, but he’s not old! At least, he looks a lot better than this ancient Rauu. He’ll find his dragon lady yet and hammer out a couple of little dragonlings. How old can he be? In the meantime, the old elf was waiting for an answer. Andy couldn’t see any point in lying and decided to speak plainly.
“I used to be human. When Karegar suggested I undergo Incarnation to save my life, I was sixteen. Now I’m seventeen. I’m not an embodied human. I’m an embodied dragon.”
He’d hit the nail on the head alright, with the picture that followed: just like a still life “Old Elf in Shock.” How was it possible?
“Impossible! Humans and elves older than five years old can’t undergo Incarnation! They die in torment. In torment! And only one in ten thousand of those younger than five can do it. Tell me about yourself.”
‘Tell me’ already. He’s quick and to the point. Tell him. No matter how Andy scoffed at himself, he knew. He felt it. He would tell him. And he would ask Miduel a thousand questions. Why wasn’t Karegar a true blood? What were true bloods? Neither Jaga or his adopted father had spoken a word about this. And there were many more questions he would ask as well. Miduel, Miduel—sleeping away in your little cubby, or wherever you’ve been sleeping and hiding away for the last hundred years…
… Andy stuck his hand into his camisole pocket. That kran would come in very handy about now, with all his memories, but it was back at the dorm.
“How about I give you my kran instead; I’ll bring it tomorrow. It’s late now. I have to get to the gym for a lesson.”
“Kran? Yes, yes, that’ll be even better. Tomorrow, give it to me tomorrow. I need to calm down. Tell me about Karegar, how is he? Does he still keep the tip of his tail in his mouth when he sleeps?”
Andy smiled. Bad habits catch on fast. He did the same thing.
Part 5.
; Harbinger of the storm.
The Marble Mountains. Castle of Crystal Lights. Middle Kingdom of the Rauu…
Steady steps echoed in the high vaults of the castle, resonating in the ceilings into a multitude of quiet calls and answers and fading into endless transitions. Prince Neritel stopped for an instant and listened to the resounding echo in the hallway. A slight draft made the flames of the many torches flicker as they hung in figure-like holders resembling flower stems. The movement of the flames gave rise to a glare and the play of light on the walls and ceiling panels of mountain crystal. The light broke down into a million little prisms and the space around him took on an indescribable charm. The heavy vaults overhead disappeared from view and became instead a starry sky with a myriad of twinkling stars. The iridescent walls, lit up with all colors of the rainbow, visibly widened the hall transforming it into a fairy-tale corridor to the far door. Whoever suggested switching the ancient torches for magical lanterns was mistaken. Only the live fire could create this fairy-tale festival of lights. The prince rubbed the stone of the ancient walls with his palm. He loved this castle. His entire childhood and long youth had been spent within its walls and in its near vicinity. He knew every little brick, corner and secret passage. There wasn’t a single peak of the mountains he hadn’t been on. Only happy memories now remained from those times, and a slight sadness at not being able to turn back time and return to his carefree childhood. Hundreds of years went by and the trees stopped seeming so large, the world became smaller and stricter, and he suddenly had no time to run around the mountains. Riding on griffons’ backs no longer gave him that puppy-dog euphoria. The world had changed irrevocably; humans and orcs from his story books became real headaches. Dwarfs were no longer great masters in his eyes, mere hucksters, and hard-bargaining peddlers. The Forest Elves who used to be relatives became mortal enemies. The seemingly endless mountains shrank to a limited patch of territory, squeezed in on all sides by the lands of the humans and orcs. The world had forever changed and now threatened to alter the leisurely life of the tribe of Snow Elves, the Rauu. The mountains’ snow-capped peaks could no longer hide the problems. The fetid breath of the gathering war defiled the pure air of the mountain heights. The Rauu were at a crossroads. Neither of the future paths promised bright prospects. Their only options were fighting a war for survival, or slowly meeting their demise.
The world required decisions and accomplishments. Water would not flow past a stone lying in the way. The world required action, piling its portion of responsibility on the shoulders of the Rauu prince. His council would be making a strategic action plan today aimed at not letting the Snow Elf people perish entirely.
The long hall ended. Neritel pushed the door, made of a single piece of glass and covered with patterns, and went into the summer garden. The bright sunlight assailed his eyes. The scent of the garden in bloom made him dizzy. The air was full of morning freshness and a slight mist from the elf-made waterfalls. The guests had already arrived. Tolivel, the prince of the High Principality and of the domain of the Rauu located on the high mountain plateau, sat in a comfy wicker chair munching on fresh mountain strawberries from a birch bark basket. Elima, the princess of the Foothill principality, was resting her elbows on the railing of a little footbridge that went over a pond and feeding the goldfish with bread crumbs. Tolivel waved to him casually and tossed a couple of flavorful berries into his mouth.
“Where does your youngest find ripe berries? It’s early yet for strawberries.”
“Same place the basket comes from. Yuli went to the mountains.” Where his daughter had found a field of berries remained a closely-guarded secret. Neritel didn’t know and Yuli didn’t say.
“Hello, Eli. May you be be blessed by a bright sky and the goddesses’ good will!” Neritel greeted Princess Elima.
“You too, Ner,” she nodded in reply.
“What about me?” Tolivel feigned offense and tossed another portion of berries down the hatch.
“You eat those berries until someone takes them away from you. Yuli doesn’t spoil me with strawberries, unlike some. I would like to know why you’re so fortunate?”
“Give her a golden griffon and daughterly bounty will come your way!” Tolivel, like a kid, grinned from ear to ear and pointed at the sky. “Look, there she flies!”
Neritel had long-since noticed the griffons circling overhead. Clearly, until her dad forbid her to play with her new toy, his daughter Yuli would saddle up on the griffon and climb skywards. She couldn’t sit still. She did remember to take guardsmen with her at least, and good for her. Two pairs of winged beasts with riders circled below the golden griffon just in case. What if it suddenly reared and threw off its rider? The girl couldn’t yet levitate and that way there would be someone to catch her.
Elima sat down in another chair and took the basket from Tolivel.
“Mmm, smells good! Ner, sit down, or else this greedy goose will devour the whole thing,” the princess jokingly slapped Tolivel’s outstretched hand as it reached for more.
“Well isn’t that fine now, it’s as if we’ve gathered for a picnic, not to decide the fate of the world!” Neritel sat down in a third chair and stretched out his long legs. Elima moved the half-full basket towards him. The prince took some berries. “They smell like childhood. My great-grandfather and I, in the mountain winter quarters on Ice peak. There was a snowstorm, you couldn’t see five feet away, but in the winter quarters, it was warm. My great grandad made tea and took a jar of strawberry jam from his backpack. I’ve never eaten such delicious jam in my life. Those berries smelled like these ones.”
The Rauu were silent for a moment. Each was remembering something. Their long life made many memories possible. Good ones and bad. Neritel waved his hand. Obeying the prince’s easy-going gesture, a hurried servant appeared, an elderly deaf-mute, and covered the table with wine and fruit.
“How old is he?” Tolivel asked, pouring the wine in different glasses. “Almost a hundred?”
“One hundred and ten. He’s a tough old bird. It’s surprising, really, for a non-mage to live that long,” Neritel answered and with a second gesture sent the man away. Derek, the man’s name, disappeared behind a glass door. “Shall we?” Neritel sniffed the wine and took a small sip.
“What’s on the agenda for today and what news have we from the ‘shadow dwellers?’ Do the analysts have anything to say?” Elima asked.
Three main questions that everyone had long-since tired of were on the agenda. Tantre, the Forest, and the North. Neritel decided to discuss the analysts’ reports and a fourth, no less important question at the end of the meeting. It wasn’t right to spoil his friends’ good mood straight away with a dark presentation.
Tantre. The “shadow dwellers,” the Rauu intelligence service, had informed them of the strange political quirks of King Gil and Tantre’s political elite. Anti-elf hysteria had been seen in the newspapers and civil salons. All representatives of the Forest had come under the tight cover of the Secret Chancellery. The “shadow dwellers” couldn’t work as effectively either. The guards had been throwing themselves at anything suspicious in a frenzy. Along the land border with the Patskoi Empire, they were strengthening and constructing defensive structures. Long-term abatises were being built at all the southern passages; old fortresses were being restored. In the north-western plains, the royal mages were building an enormous arc, a stationary portal, not clear for what purpose. They weren’t able to get close to the structure. Vikings had been invited to settlements in the coastal zone. They had also observed a switch from guards to Vikings in the large cities. Unrest was growing in the country as a whole. Landowners of large territories and lords were unhappy with the redistribution of funds and the unplanned selection of new royal army recruits from their villages. Many were protesting the allocation of lands to the northerners, as the crown had simply confiscated these lands on the coast from their estates. Gnomish elders were grumbling against the withdrawal of a portion of the
bank proceeds and the crown’s requirement to freeze any increases in interest rates on royal loans. Due to the negative media, active harassment had begun against elvish half-bloods in the central and northern parts of the country. The Free Mages’ Guild had received a supreme rescript to organize a sweeping military training course for all its members; the guild bosses were successfully sabotaging the royal order for now. All elf sympathizer military commanders had been removed from their posts in the army. The army itself had been withdrawn from the cities and distributed to summer base camps. Royal agents were actively buying up weapons, griffons, and hasses in the Patskoi Empire. The official offer from Tantre’s Secret Chancellery to work together with the Rauu in gathering intelligence was an interesting moment.
The Light Forest. The Forest Lordships, in response to Tantre’s hostile actions, had reduced the supply of Forest products and increased the number of patrols in the southern groves several times over. The Rauu’s intelligence service had discovered active contact between the diplomatic embassies of the Woodies and the middle son of the king of Meriya, Prince Nemrom. The goals and results of this contact and the negotiations that took place had unfortunately remained elusive. They were still working on uncovering this information. The southern lands of the kingdom of Meriya were full of Forest agents. Duke Nag was actively arming his supporters. The princes were chomping at the bit for power. The old king of Meriya might give up the ghost today or tomorrow and the flames of civil discord would be ignited in Meriya.
In Mesaniya, in an armed assault, they’d managed to kidnap Baron teg Fraglo, who had been doing business with the Forest, and take him outside the borders of the Great principality. The very first interrogations yielded staggering results. Without working with the Woodies directly, the baron had his men in many powerful and elf-affiliated structures, and had a vast amount of information. It turned out that the Forest was recruiting spies from among the Mesaniyan merchants and artisans. The new hires headed to Tantre. The baron also produced a plan for organizing uprisings and revolts among the Mesaniyan army. The Woodies could plan far ahead.
