Elves- the Book of Daniel

by R Brent Powell

  "Other than the silver coin that Barton claims you made, what proof have you that you are the elf long hoped for?"

  Daniel started to do his standard disclaimer, but after looking at Lissette and considering the situation, he stood slowly and walked to the fire ring. He poked around in the ashes for a few minutes, picked up some of the larger pieces left after the fire and returned to his seat. He looked at each of them again, and then closed his eyes and began to hum. As the music played in his head, he began to rearrange the molecules and push out the parts he didn't want. Then getting deeper into the music, he began to rearrange the atoms. Aligning all of the atoms of one kind, when they were mostly the element he needed, was a lot simpler than making the silver coin from whatever crap he had scooped off the dungeon floor, and it took him much less time. The atoms almost seemed to snap into place as the covalent bonds grabbed hold. When everything felt right to him, he stopped the song, looked at Lissette and opened his hands.

  Her gasp told him what he needed to know without looking down. He handed what must've been a four to five carat emerald cut diamond to her. While she examined the jewel he looked at Alan, who seemed pleased with almost a sense of relief. Barton was slowly shaking his head from side to side.

  "I'm guessing that this is as unusual to do as a silver coin," he said flatly.

  "It is indeed," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I saw the hole in the castle wall as I escaped, and even with that proof it was difficult for me to accept the wild tale Barton told. Even seeing this with my own eyes, and holding it in my hands, I fight to trust my own senses. How can you possibly do this?" She asked with tone of disbelief and an edge of fear.

  Daniel looked at her and took a deep breath letting most of it out before he replied in a voice barely above a whisper, "I'm really good in a coma."

  Alan's laugh turned her attention to him and away from Daniel. "What of this is funny, halfling?" she said with her surprise turning to irritation.

  "No offense was intended, Lissette, but our friend Daniel believes he is in a deep sleep somewhere else and we are all part of his dream."

  Lissette’s brow tightened causing tiny vertical lines in her forehead. “Please, Daniel, tell me some of this world you believe you are in.”

  Daniel had no idea where to start.

  “Tell her about the jetcars,” Barton prompted with a grin.

  “Not jetcars, jets and cars. They are two different things.” As the words came out of his mouth Daniel wished for them back. Barton had set him up in front of Lissette and he was stuck.

  “Let’s start with cars. That will be easier.” Easier but not easy, he thought. “Think of a carriage drawn by four horses.” Both Alan and Lissette had leaned slightly forward with interest, he noticed, and Barton, who was moving down on his list of friends, was leaning back with a smile enjoying the show.

  “So imagine the carriage made of thin sheets of steel shaped more like a boat so it will cut through the air like a boat cuts through water. This boat has four wheels made of rubber,” their faces told him rubber was an unknown. “Imagine a wagon wheel wrapped with layers and layers of very strong cloth maybe this thick,” he held his hands about ten inches apart, “it is very strong and flexible. It helps the car grip the road at high speeds and absorbs the bumps from an uneven street like one made from cobble stones.”

  Daniel looked at their faces as they each tried to get the picture in their minds and were struggling. His own satisfaction came from noticing that Barton was now leaning forward and the smug smile was absent.

  “Small cars will hold two people and big cars could hold nine. They are very comfortable and provide cold air in the hot summer and warm air in the winter.” That really pulled them in, he thought, it’s the comforts they can relate to.

  “In my world we have a measure called a horse power. It is the load one horse can pull. Your carriages might be two or four horse power or more depending on how many horses are pulling it. The more horses, the faster it can go and the easier they can pull. In some of our cars we have a machine we call an engine or motor and they can have the power of four hundred horses. A carriage with four horses might travel twenty miles in an hour on a good road with the horses spent. A car can go one hundred miles in an hour and run all day because motors don’t get tired.”

  All three were sitting silent and stunned trying to comprehend such a thing when Alan asked, “Does the motor run by magic?”

  It was Daniel’s turn to be stunned. Of course he would think that, here magic explains everything, Daniel thought.

  “No,” Daniel said slowly, “it runs on gasoline, something like the oil in a lamp but thinner like water.”

  They were all silent for a moment, each trying to understand the words and ideas in a context they could grasp.

  “And what are jets?” Lissette asked appearing truly interested. He saw the need to know in her eyes and could not have stopped himself from trying to explain.

  Daniel spent the next half hour trying to translate his world to Lissette, Alan, and Barton. He explained his work at the college, he explained how he had grown up, and he explained again that he had no idea what was going on. When he was done, they were all quiet for perhaps a full minute before Lissette broke the silence.

  "Barton, if you intend to take him to the elves then my decision is made. I would very much like to hear the elders’ view on this. From my hearing of the tale, the return should not have occurred for at least another year and all expected him to have full knowledge of who he was."

  At her comments, it was Barton's turn to look surprised. "Lissette, you seem to have heard more of the details of this event then I have, but I agree our best path is to find the elders. I also believe we are far enough into the afternoon to begin that trip."

  Lissette nodded but allowed her eyes to linger on Daniel. There was no doubt the creation of the gem had been stunning, but more than that it was something about Daniel himself. She had difficulty looking away and felt something like a warm bead of sweat along her spine. She quickly gave herself a mental shake and the feeling passed.

  THIRTEEN

  The late afternoon sun threw angled rays of light onto the forest floor as they followed Barton out of the thicket and toward the woods. Barton had taken the halfling Alan onto his horse behind him and took the lead. Daniel was next, followed by Lissette.

  Daniel felt her eyes on him but she is behind him so where else would she look, he told himself.

  Knowing she was there made him even more uncomfortable. He was trying desperately to find a position that didn’t hurt after the earlier ride. His whole butt felt like it wanted to be a blister and he was sure the long shirt tail needed to have high spots smoothed. Each wrinkle felt like a dull knife stropping itself against his skin. He wanted desperately to adjust and resettle things but also wanted to avoid having Lissette watch him try and reconfigure a saddle wedgie.

  After about an hour of travel Lissette pulled her horse alongside Daniel. Her face was composed but he could see a twinkle in her eye.

  "You haven't spent much time on horse have you?" She asked. Where her face was composed, he was sure from her tone she was trying not to laugh at what had obviously been his discomfort, viewed from her front row seat.

  "It's been a couple of years since I last rode a horse and that was at a church camp and I wasn't very good then either," he said with a sigh of surrender.

  “It takes a while to toughen… things... up,” she said, “and to learn to get into the rhythm of the horse. Try not to fight it. Or if you need a break, stand in the stirrups for a spell and give the ….saddle…a rest,” she suggested with clear merriment.

  Daniel looked at her for a minute and separated the saddle from his softer spots by standing part way up. His butt was immediately better. He knew his thighs would be paying a price later but right now it was a price he was happy to pay.

  “How long does it take to get used to this?” he
asked.

  “For most of us we have either never owned a horse or been riding as far back as we can remember. We don’t have curs, after all.” She was looking straight ahead as she spoke and was obviously trying to sound nonchalant about his earlier fantastical tales.

  “Cars,” he said slowly drawing out the ‘aaahh’ sound a bit. “We call them cars, and they wouldn’t be much good in the woods. The car is as wide as two horses or a little more. Now a motorcycle would be perfect,” he said wistfully.

  She turned her face toward him as he spoke and watched him closely. He is either the best at making up words I have ever heard or was truly speaking of things that he knew well, and took for granted. While she didn’t understand a great deal of what he said (and to be honest with herself didn’t want to appear overly impressed or astonished by his tales), she was beginning to think the stories must be true. Mad men spouted gibberish and often it took only minutes for their rants to contradict themselves, she thought, I could see him stop and look into the distance or at the ground as if trying to describe what he could see in his head; this just seemed too familiar to him. His struggle was like a foreigner looking for words as he spoke an uncomfortable language.

  He was almost wistful, she thought, it is the lost sense he has about him, as if he has actually been pulled from a different world. It was that “lostness” she found herself empathizing with. But if he is the one spoken of quietly in small family groups, what has gone wrong? She was getting more eager to reach the elders and ask a few questions herself.

  She studied him for a few more minutes before she asked, "Tell me about this church camp. What did you do there?"

  "Mom and dad couldn’t have kids of their own so late in their forties they adopted me. It was like they had been planning for years for this perfect childhood and they made sure I experienced a lot of different things. My mother was the more religious of my parents, which is odd when you think dad spent all his time collecting ritual music. Anyway, I spent some time each summer at a camp sponsored by our church. I think mom hoped I would get religion at camp but it never really stuck. So at camp, we would swim and ride horses and learn archery and how to shoot a rifle and how to build a campfire and the other stuff that people who lived in the country or were in the Boy Scouts might know. It was fun but I was always ready to go home." He didn't really look at her as he talked, he sort of stared unfocused at the riders in front of him and watched the pictures of camp play in his memories.

  "Did this church camp teach you the use of the sword as well at as the bow and scouting?" Lissette was becoming fascinated by Daniel’s story and coupled with what she had witnessed of his magic, had no idea what to think anymore. Although she hadn’t realized it yet, the first meeting with the naked Daniel near the tourney and the confused and lost Daniel she was beginning to know here, were starting to make a kind of sense. He had seemed embarrassed, she thought, and I remember him speaking of wanting to awaken. Liars are never so consistent, she thought, nor are their lies so full of unbelievable bits. Though she knew it was said that the larger the lie the more believable it became, a lie also needed a hook and she could see no advantage in this for Daniel, especially with the abilities he had shown.

  "Look, Lissette," Daniel said with exasperation, "I'm not a scout like you think of a scout. Scouts were an organization that taught kids very, very basic survival skills. I grew up in the city. I can't put my ear to the ground and know how far away horses are, the bow they taught us to shoot was about half the size of this thing I'm carrying, which I don't even know if I can draw. I did study a kind of fighting when I was growing up that taught me the use of the sword and some other techniques but we only used them in competition, and games, not combat. All I know about this story is what you all have told me. The closest I've ever come to actually seeing an elf is you and Alan. Magic is an illusion done for entertainment. In my world none of these things exist outside of legend or myth."

  When he finally looked over at her she was staring at him quizzically. She seemed to be looking more through him than at him. When she finally spoke, she simply said “Thank you,” and spurred her horse ahead.

  Daniel wasn't sure how much time had passed when he realized they were coming to a stop. Since the horse was happy to follow along he had been lost in his thoughts going over everything he knew and actually starting to feel a little bit homesick. Like camp, he thought whimsically. Maybe that's a good sign; maybe you have to feel homesick before you can wake up. The two horses ahead of him had stopped at a small stream and were drinking so Daniel allowed his horse to do the same. When he pulled his horse up alongside Barton and Alan, Barton was staring straight ahead at some of the largest trees Daniel had ever seen.

  "We've come to the edge of the woods, Daniel,” Barton said without looking at him, “here marks the beginning of the territory controlled by the elves. You should assume that they already know we are here and will be watching us. Some may recognize Alan or Lissette, some may even recognize me, but none will know anything of you other than what tales of your magics have preceded us. I tell you this so that when the elves make themselves known to us, you will not be startled and do anything to upset them. Also, assume that anything you say will be heard by the elves whether you whisper or not."

  As Barton and Alan led off, Lissette hung back with him for a moment and stayed alongside as his horse started forward. "I have thought long and hard about what you've said and what I've seen," she began, "and I believe you are telling the truth as you know it. There is one thing," and she laughed at herself, "Well, there is one thing among many I would like to ask. When you made the diamond the song you used was similar to one I have heard before but at a faster pace and with greater intricacy. It's as if you put extra notes between the notes with which I am familiar. I have never heard music like yours, or at least, not when used with magic. What I heard sounded like parts of the chant I know mixed with something a troubadour might play on a mandolin."

  Daniel thought about what she said and had no idea what the answer was. "Lissette, whatever it is I'm doing, I'm not doing on purpose I just take the basic tune and add to it what seems right to me. I've heard the chants and ballads typical of a place like this and by the musical standards of my world, the music here is very slow and simple. From what Barton told me about how magic works it seems to be a combination of the energy built by the music and what I see in my head mixed together. Maybe my version of the music has more energy in it, maybe the knowledge from my world allows me to see pictures in my head more clearly. Honestly, Lissette, I don't have any idea what I'm doing; I'm just making it up as I go. I'm beginning to hope this guy Beylvar will somehow make this make sense."

  When Daniel looked at her, their eyes met, and for the first time, lingered. Neither pulled their gaze away, as if each was trying to look into the other person. Lissette broke eye contact first and turned her gaze down and then up to the pair riding in front of her for a moment before she looked back. When she spoke, it was both soft and earnest. "I believe what you tell me is true. I also believe that many people want to use you for what you can do and you must be very wary of who you trust." With that she extended her left hand to him and when he reached out she placed the diamond in his palm. "If you are the one we all hope for, you are in for dangerous times. We all are, and you should hide this and let no one know what you can do until you are sure you can trust them. I hope against hope that you can make a difference for our peoples and I will do all I can to aid you in this, but play me false and I will neither forgive nor forget." She paused for a moment and then smiled as she continued. "I will be beside you but I will be watching you, and if you will remember how we met, you have no secrets from me." With that she urged her horse forward laughing pleasantly at her own wit.

  As Daniel thought back to his arrival in this world he was glad it was dark in the woods because he was sure he was blushing. The color drained quickly when he focused his attention to the woods beginning to ga
ther around him and wondered if the strong sense of being watched was real or planted by Barton’s suggestion.

  The attack came from three sides: left, right and behind. Daniel felt the rush of the arrow by his left ear and heard it thunk into a tree in front of them. His call of warning was unnecessary, as his companions cried out at the same time and spurred their horses to greater speed.

  "Stay low and keep close," Barton called out as he rode ahead.

  Fortunately, Daniel's horse knew better what to do than he did and it accelerated to stay up with the others. He kept himself low in the saddle and swung his head from side to side, his eyes darting from tree to tree along their path and then behind him, trying to catch a glimpse of their pursuit. He could hear the horses now, which told him that whoever was chasing them was getting closer. There hadn't been any more arrows and he hoped that was because riding the horses in the thick woods made getting off a shot too difficult. He couldn’t do anything about the next arrow so he focused his attention on staying in the saddle and trying to gauge if the pursuit was closing in.

  Daniel found himself doing the rough landing prayer: the one where the plane is bouncing like crazy in bad weather and everyone on the plane gets religion. Daniel tried to hang onto the saddle horn with his right hand and the reins with his left, but in all truth, the reins were held loosely in his hand and both were on the saddle horn. He found that if he gripped the horse with his legs and got into a forward-back rocking motion he felt fairly secure in the saddle and in rhythm with the horse. It was getting too dark for this kind of a mad flight through the trees and Daniel felt like they had been running for hours, although he was sure it had only been a few terrifying minutes.