The Tears of Elios

by Crista McHugh

  He almost regretted his words when he saw Galen's eyes flash with anger, yet the elf stayed calm. “If you give me your word to allow me to have the scrolls, I'll tell you of their contents.”

  For a moment, Gregor considered taking them by force, but something about the elf made him hesitate. There were too many years of experience behind those eyes. “Fine, take them.”

  Three more scrolls flew from the stacks, and Galen enclosed them in a ball of green magic. “Thank you, Gregor.” The ball shrank and disappeared, taking them with it. “The Scrolls of Corang are now safe.”

  “The Scrolls of Corang?” That was something he’d never come across in his readings.

  “Yes. They contain the history of the drae and how they were sent to another realm of existence by the elves. If they fell into the wrong hands, the drae could be summoned and returned here. As it is, Anilayus has already found a way to enslave some of them and turn them into the Azekborn.”

  Gregor exhaled. He hadn’t expected the scrolls to contain that information. Drae. Other realms of existence. His mind swam with the thought of it. “You're telling the truth?”

  “Elves can't lie.”

  “Amazing.” He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, trying to clear any images from his mind. What had he just let go of? Then he felt that uncomfortable presence probing his mind once again.

  “You shouldn’t delve into things you don’t fully understand, Gregor. The scrolls are far more dangerous than they appear.” The presence retreated from his mind. “I'll tell you more about them when you return with the Tears of Elios.”

  Gregor replaced his glasses and studied the elf. “A bribe?”

  A smile played upon his lips. “A reward, to be more precise. The sooner you complete the task I ask of you, the sooner you can acquire the knowledge you seek.”

  “I'm sure you have a great deal of knowledge I would like to acquire, such as how you came to appear in this room.”

  “Teleportation is simple enough, once you learn to spell.” His eyes fell on Ranealya, and he moved closer to her. He stroked her hair, careful not to disturb her sleep. “There are many things she could teach you as well, if you have the patience.”

  The sinking feeling returned once again. Yes, there was more to their relationship than just being casual acquaintances. He knew now that Galen loved her. And, of course, she would naturally choose Galen over him. The elf was everything he was not—confident, powerful, graceful. What chance do I have against that?

  He was in the process of berating himself for even hoping she would be interested in him when he felt the presence creeping into his mind yet again. “Stop trying to read my thoughts!”

  Galen's eyes widened, and his hand remained suspended over her head. “I'm surprised you were even aware of me. Most humans are completely oblivious when I read their thoughts. That is, when I can read them.” He tucked the covers around her before he returned to Gregor.

  “Should I tell you a story that will put your mind at ease?” He gestured for Gregor to take a seat, but he remained aloof near the shelves. “I once had a sister named Nyelle. It is unusual among elves to have more than one child, but my parents were exceptions. I was fully grown when she was born, but like any older brother, I was very protective of her.

  “Our father was an Elder, and she grew up in a privileged household. She was very beautiful but also very vain. She became accustomed to getting whatever she wanted because of her beauty or because of who our father was. In time, she became willful and spoiled.

  “Our parents were killed when she was approaching her adult years—the equivalent of her being thirteen or fourteen years old if she was a human. I assumed her care, but she became more and more rebellious. Despite my warnings, she chose to pursue things she should have never gone near. For years, I blamed myself for her fate—that I hadn’t been strict enough with her—but I know now she would have done what she wanted to do.” His body sagged as the mournful note of regret filled his voice.

  “And what happened to your sister?”

  Galen stared into the fire, his face tense. “One day, she decided to go against my orders and investigated a human named Travodus. The Elders knew he had been trying to acquire an elf for a ritual he had been planning to cast. Six elves had already either been killed or committed suicide when they were captured. Then she fell into his trap.”

  Gregor had heard the stories of Travodus the Mad, a sorcerer who dared to become a deity and create a master race, only to be harshly punished by the gods. But until now, he thought they were mere stories. “And did he kill her, too?”

  “In a way.” His eyes flickered to Ranealya, and he sighed. “She would not be pleased with me, for this is her story to tell, not mine, but I feel you deserve to hear part of it.

  “Travodus succeeded that night in creating a master race. He combined the unique qualities of humans and elves with the strength and agility of animals. The race he created had the power to assume any shape they desired.”

  “So shape-shifters were created! I knew it. But—” Then it all became clear to him. Galen's sister had been transformed into one of the first shape-shifters. “Ranealya is Nyelle?” he asked.

  Galen nodded. “When she returned home, she was what you see before you now. She bore no resemblance to her former self and seemed to be driven to madness. She had no control over her new powers. Her shape changed with each new emotion. The Elders were appalled by what she had become. To them, she was little different than the drae, and they exiled her from all elvan lands. They declared she would be known as ‘Ranealya’, which in our language means ‘cursed one’. Nyelle was dead to them.

  “At first, I tried to follow her wanderings. She slowly accepted her fate and gained control of her powers. Then she began to push me away, becoming more and more elusive over the years. She chose when she appeared to me—usually every few years to let me know she was still alive—before disappearing again. Once the Clearances began, I saw her more frequently. I sometimes wonder if she was trying to assure herself that I was still alive, even as she fled from the Azekborn.”

  Gregor was so engrossed by the story, trying to imagine what it must have felt like for Ranealya, that he was startled when Galen touched his shoulder. “I am entrusting my sister to you. Please try and keep her from harm, if you can. There is a reason why you're the only other person who has gained her trust.”

  “She trusts me?”

  “Yes, and that is no easy accomplishment.” He released Gregor's shoulder and draped his cloak over his arm. “I need to return to the camp, but I’ll leave you with Ranealya. She will show you where to find the Tears of Elios and where to bring them afterwards. Safe journeys to you, Gregor Meritis, until we meet again.”

  With a flash of blue, the elf vanished, leaving Gregor alone to ponder his new knowledge of Ranealya.

  CHAPTER 12

  Galen moved through the camp with noiseless steps. The evening had been fruitful. Ranealya was right—Gregor would make a powerful ally. More importantly, however, he might keep her out of trouble.

  The dissonant rumble of heavy snoring greeted him as he approached his tent. He frowned as he snapped open the flap, startling Tyrrus. “What are you doing here?”

  The portly mage blinked in the low light and stumbled to his feet. As usual, it appeared he’d been drinking again, judging by his bloodshot eyes. “Galen, you’re back.”

  Galen toyed with the idea of banning all beer and wine from the camp. “Yes, and you still haven't answered my question.”

  “I wanted to speak to you about something.”

  Galen mentally cringed and hoped it wouldn’t have anything to do with Kira. “Be brief about it,” he replied as he busied himself with removing his cloak and straightening up his tent. “It's late.”

  “Now that I have been relieved of my apprentice, I was hoping there might be something a little more interesting I could be doing for the Resistance.”

  “Unfortunately, I ca
n't risk sending you back to Dromore now that the Azekborn have seen you, especially since you know the location of the camp.”

  Tyrrus paled under the beer-induced flush. “Oh, so Kira told you about that?”

  Galen turned to face him. “I was wondering why you neglected to tell me about that when you arrived.”

  He patted his round belly and looked away. “I figured you already knew. You don't steal something like that without attracting their attention.”

  “Get to the point, Tyrrus.”

  “I have already. I want to do something a bit more daring and dangerous.”

  Galen resisted the urge to laugh. “Are you sure you're up to it, old man?”

  “Who are you calling old? You have at least a few centuries on me.” He smoothed his dark blue robe. It seemed to be the only piece of clothing that wasn’t covered with food stains. “I am a Master. Surely, you must have something I can do. Can I help you retrieve any more of the Tears of Elios?”

  “Quiet, Tyrrus!” He glared at the human. “The fewer people who know about this, the better.”

  “I know there are more to be found.”

  “They’re being taken care of.”

  “Please, Galen, I beg you! Let me tag along. You have no idea how it feels to be useless.”

  Something in his pleading softened Galen's resolution. There were times he wished he could be useless rather than having the lives of thousands of people depending on him. He studied Tyrrus for a moment. The human’s bottom lip trembled, and moisture gathered in the corners of his eyes. “Do you know Paleah?”

  “Not personally, but I know who she is. One of the common elves, right?”

  “She and Orin are leaving in the morning to go to the Dragonlands to find one of them. I'll ask her if you can accompany them.”

  His eyes lit up. “The Dragonlands?” His whole body jiggled with more energy than Galen had seen since he arrived in the camp. “How exciting!”

  “Meet me here at first light, and I'll take you to them.” Galen wished he could share his enthusiasm, but he knew what waited for them in the Dragonlands. If the arid wasteland didn’t cause them difficulties, the occupants would.

  “I won't let you down,” Tyrrus said as he left the tent.

  ***

  Galen knew he’d overslept when Jaius shook him awake. Sunlight filtered through the canvas of the tent, and he winced, not quite ready to face the brightness. “You're going to miss the meeting,” his friend reminded him.

  “Did I sleep that late?”

  Jaius shrugged. “You probably needed it. By the way, I directed Tyrrus to Paleah and Orin. They were agreeable with your decision to send him along.”

  “How did you know about it?” he asked as he pulled his boots on.

  “He told me.” Jaius handed him his cloak and held the tent flap open. “I intercepted him as he was about to enter your tent.”

  Galen wrapped the cloak around his shoulders before stepping outside. Despite the bright sunlight, the wind was still sharply cold. “Meritis agreed to help us find the orbs in Elgeus.”

  “And play nanny to Ranealya at the same time? He's braver than I thought.”

  Galen’s lips twitched upward in a grin. “Actually, I think he enjoys her company.”

  “Ah, so he's more foolish than brave?”

  “Something like that.” He entered the large tent and surveyed the scene. The usual faces were there, with the exception of the faerie representative. He took a seat in the circle. “Good morning, everyone. Thank you for coming today to discuss what we will do with the Tears of Elios once we acquire them.”

  The tent instantly filled with voices suggesting how the magical artifacts should be used. Galen looked at Jaius for a way to control the crowd, but it was Elisus who shouted, “Silence!” over the ruckus. His voice reverberated with such force that everyone stopped mid-sentence and stared at him. “Now, let's discuss this matter like civilized beings, speaking in turn.” He waited a few seconds to see if anyone would contradict him. “I, for one, am curious to see the Tears of Elios you've acquired so far. How many do you have?”

  “Two. I’ve sent teams to find four more, and I will be leaving in the morning to acquire a fifth one.”

  “That only accounts for seven of them, Galen. Where are the other three?” His eyes turned into glittering blue slits. “Or are you withholding that information from us?”

  “They aren’t easily found, Elisus,” Thoranus replied. “Both Galen and I have searched for them. We see them, but their location is clouded to us.”

  Elisus scowled, first at Thoranus, then at Galen. “So he has seen them and knows of their location, but not any of us?”

  Galen closed his eyes and took a deep breath before answering. Elisus was trying to start an argument, as usual, but he refused to fall into that trap. “Those I sent to find them know only of the locations of the orbs they are searching for.”

  “And who are they?”

  “Please, Elisus, let's not argue about the current location of the orbs but rather what we will do with them once they are here. Anilayus is preparing to attack us as we speak.”

  “I think we should create a barrier between Elgeus and this land so we never have to worry about the humans again,” one of the dwarves suggested. Murmurs of agreement followed.

  “But what kind of barrier? Magical, like what we have hiding the camp? Or physical?”

  “Physical?” Arlisle asked. “You mean like a mountain range?”

  “But how can we create a mountain range using only magic?” Lohman, another human, leaned forward in his chair and rested his chin in his palm, appearing to ponder the mechanics of the idea.

  “You’ve seen the Green Mountains in Arcana,” Elisus said. “There are some of us here who remember when they were created. Of course, they only kept you humans at bay for a few decades.”

  “Why not create both?” Fergan asked. “A physical barrier with magical obstacles to overcome?”

  “That's impossible!”

  “Not necessarily, Elisus.” Galen considered the suggestion and the possibilities it held. “After all, if one man created a new race using only five of the orbs, imagine what we could do with seven orbs and seven skilled mages.”

  “What you are suggesting would require every drop of our essence. It would kill the casters,” Elisus argued.

  “If Travodus could create the shape-shifters and survive, I don’t think it would be as fatal as you suggest.”

  “But there is still the risk, Galen.”

  “And that's a risk I'm willing to take.” Fergan sat up straighter in his chair. “I would rather sacrifice myself to save others than wait for the King and his dogs to slaughter us all.”

  One of the dwarves nodded. “I agree with the human.”

  “And I,” Lohman echoed.

  Elisus leaned back in his chair, his nostrils flaring. “Well, it seems we have reached some sort of concordance. Of course, we will first need all seven of the Tears of Elios that you claim you can find.”

  “I have no doubt we will have them in time,” Jaius said. “We have sent the best people we could to find them.”

  The tent remained silent as Galen looked at the faces of everyone present. They all seem satisfied with the decision. All except Elisus. But he knew that there would never be any pleasing him unless he was in control. “The next topic I would like to discuss is how we should govern ourselves once we are free of Anilayus.”

  “What's wrong with what we have now?” Thoranus asked. “We have all been elected as representatives from our groups within our own races. I think we should continue to work together in this form of a council.”

  “Don't be ridiculous, Thoranus.” Elisus crossed his arms. “You know as well as I do that as soon as we defeat Anilayus, we will revert back to what we have done for centuries. Each race will go its separate way. The dwarves will bury themselves in the dirt under the mountains. The fairies will play their games within the realms of Syl
vania. We High Elves will confine ourselves within our domain, and you common elves will mingle with the humans. Of course, you may want to carve out your own space, as the humans multiply at an astounding rate.”

  “Yes,” Lohman interrupted. “What was it that you once said? That we ‘breed like vermin’?”

  “Ach, well then, perhaps I haven’t been performing up to snuff, seeing as how I only have one son to count among my vermin.” Fergan slapped Arlisle’s shoulder as he laughed. “Perhaps you and I need to go out and find some lasses to breed with.”

  “Aye, Dah, there’s a few lasses I wouldn't mind rolling in the hay with. All in the name of continuing species, of course.” The humans in the tent, all male, snickered at Arlisle's reply, and even the dwarves grinned from under their beards.

  The frown on Elisus’ face, on the other hand, hardened. “I think I have endured enough of these humans and their vulgarity.”

  “But we were just agreeing with you about our ability to multiply,” Lohman said through his laughter.

  “It's a pity that these are the best the humans could offer.” He stormed out, followed by his ever-present entourage.

  “It's a pity that he's the best the High Elves could offer,” Jaius muttered.

  Galen looked at his friend with curiosity. He hadn’t expected such sarcasm from him. But then, the High Elf elitist was beginning to wear on everyone. “Unfortunately, he's an Elder.”

  Jaius turned to him. “That doesn't mean I have to respect him. Age doesn't necessarily equate to wisdom.”

  Fergan interrupted them before he could reply. “Well, now that the air is clear again, let's explore this idea of an elected council of all the races.”

  “And can we ban Elisus from being part of it?” Lohman added. Snickers rippled through the tent.

  “I don’t think Elisus would want to be part of the council.” Thoranus looked to Galen. “In my eyes, his elitist attitude isn’t very different than that of Anilayus. But I am willing to explore the idea of an elected council. I've seen that we can accomplish more by working together than by working against each other.”