by Rex Jameson
***
As he walked through the lobby and saw all the people crying, Lucifer apologized profusely and offered his condolences.
“Chaos will do everything in its power to see Uldram rebuilt,” he said. “Our deepest sympathies go out to each of you and your families.”
“Do they?” a balding elf said. His ear lobes drooped low and his face showed signs of recovery from melting. Lucifer recognized him from the Certamen monitors as the runner-up in the election for king. Routan, the former forgewright, glared into Lucifer’s face.
“I told that young fool that you would kill us, and here you are—standing in our capital as millions of us die. Quite the coincidence …”
His speech was attracting a following. Dozens of elves congregated around them, and the looks were a mixture of confusion, curiosity, and anger. The beginnings of a mob.
“Archimedes …” Lucifer said.
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll hear plenty of lies and cover-ups later,” Routan said.
“You need to back off,” Sariel said. “All of you.”
“Or what? You’ll kill me? Like everyone in Uldram?”
Routan reached for the stuffed bear, and Lucifer let him grab it. He had enabled the safety mode after Archimedes told him about the blue button, so it was perfectly harmless until he shifted the bear into the pen again.
“It’s a gift for my son,” Lucifer said. “The child Anne and I made together.”
Routan squeezed the bear’s midsection and stared into it. “I once knew what it was like to shower my sons with presents.” He handed the bear back to him. “But I lost two of them in the Great War against your armies, and I lost the other seven today in Uldram. Seven boys and eleven little girls.”
Lucifer teared up, and his bottom lip quivered as he looked around at the angry elves. “Mr. Routan, I am so sorry.”
“No you’re not,” Routan said as he put his hands on Lucifer’s shoulders. “Not yet.”
Sariel stepped between his brother and Routan and appealed to the gathered elves. “We’re going to do everything we can to rebuild Uldram and stop Jehovah from sending a similar jet into the Elven Realm.”
“Has Jehovah ever led an invading army into the Elven Realm?” Routan asked with his deceptively calm voice. “I seem to have missed a major war.”
“No,” Sariel said. “But he’s looking for a feeder universe for his primal, and when we stop his assault on Chaos, the oracles have told us that he’s going to switch targets.”
“The demon oracles? How convenient!”
“The King’s own sister.”
“We’ll soon see where our King and his sister’s loyalties truly lie.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Sariel said as he grabbed his brother by the arm of his pinstriped suit jacket and pulled him toward the main doors. “The Council is destroyed and our universe is changed forever. Chaos will come through. You’ll see. Please have faith in us.”
The crowd dispersed and went back to their families. Grown men bawled openly into their hands, and others threw chairs across the lobby, causing guards to carry several of them past Routan and toward the main doors. Lucifer turned toward Routan as his own brother yanked on his jacket. The old man glared back.
