The Least of Elves

by Robin Glassey

  He gently eased the window open a bit to peek in and as he did so, several faeries flew past his head and into the hut.

  Toran stood stock-still, staring in confusion and horror at his wife as he took in the sight of faeries flying around her and chanting, “The zhralli are coming, the zhralli are coming!”

  Siphra said to Sosha. “A few more pushes, Sosha. You can do it, dear. This baby is coming whether you will it or not.”

  Toran turned away. He could not watch. He could hear — and he felt at risk for passing out at any moment. He managed to stay on his feet (thanks to the wall of the hut) and he whispered encouragingly to her (although she probably could not hear him, with all the sounds she was making).

  The faeries continued swirling around the room, knocking over bottles and blowing the curtains. “The zhralli are coming, you must run!”

  “I can’t run!” Sosha shouted.

  “Don’t worry, Sosha.” Siphra said. “Women in labor say the strangest things sometimes.”

  The faeries swirled around the room, “The zhralli are coming!”

  “Shut up!” Sosha yelled.

  Siphra patted her on the hand. “I know you don’t mean it, dear. And it seems we have a draft in here.” Siphra could not see the faeries; however, she had noticed the commotion they were making and assumed it was a breeze from outside. “Toran! Close that window!” she shouted at him.

  It seemed like an age later when the hut became significantly quieter — Sosha no longer cried out and Siphra no longer encouraged her to push. The faeries, on the other hand, still chanted.

  Siphra ordered brusquely, “Toran, bring me a clean blanket to wrap the baby in.” Apparently he did not come in fast enough, for she barked again, “A blanket, Toran! Now!”

  He entered the hut as Siphra was washing the baby in a basin. The little girl — his little girl, did not make a sound. She was small in size, having been born too early, yet the healer reassured the new parents that despite her diminutive size she had all her parts and was breathing well. Siphra wrapped up the tiny girl in the blanket and laid her gently in Sosha’s arms.

  “You have a beautiful daughter, Sosha, with ten toes, ten fingers, blue eyes and a little bit of brown hair on the top of her head. It looks like it might stay your color. Congratulations, my dear.”

  “Will she be all right? It’s too soon, too early,” Sosha fretted as she began worriedly, yet carefully exploring her baby’s features with one of her fingers.

  “She’s breathing well, and looks a little pale, although I think that’s because she has her father’s Elven coloring, not because she’s unhealthy. Of course we still need to watch her carefully and make sure she gets plenty of milk — but so far so good,” Siphra reassured the new mother.

  “Thank you for your help, Siphra. Would it be alright if I had a moment alone with Toran?”

  “Of course, dear. The baby came so quickly I didn’t have a chance to bring some herbs with me that you’ll need. I’ll be back shortly.”

  The healer quietly exited the small home, still oblivious to the flying faeries. Toran turned his attention back to his wife and took in the beautiful sight of mother and daughter on the straw mattress together. His heart swelled with tenderness, and he could not believe he could feel such instant love for this new little life which had so quickly appeared on the scene. It seemed so strange to think he was a father now with greater responsibilities.

  Sosha gently stroked the tiny fingers that flexed at her soft touch. Toran looked down at Sosha and frowned as he noticed the tears in his wife’s sightless eyes — tears of joy mingled with tears of sorrow.

  She no longer wore scarves in his presence. Turning her face towards him Sosha started to speak; however, emotion choked her words. Clearing her throat, she tried again.

  “Remember when I told you how my mother sacrificed her life to save mine many years ago?” After they had married, Sosha told him the truth about her scars; a zhralli, not a sand tiger had left her blind.

  “I remember. That was how your sight you lost.” Toran said, gently combing his fingers through Sosha’s hair, trying to sooth what distressed his wife now.

  “Listen to the faeries, Toran.”

  “I hear them.” He wanted to dismiss it as another faery prank, and yet the scars on his wife’s face testified of the truth. She bore the physical reminder of their attack and the everyday fear the zhralli would one day find her again. It appeared they had finally done so.

  “How have they found you?” Toran asked, his fear mounting as the implications of an imminent attack began to sink in. It was not just the zhralli, but the more powerful zhobani who controlled them — they were the greater problem. What could he do to protect his wife and child against such powerful evil creatures ... and what of the villagers? They would be completely defenseless.

  “The how is not important. The faeries have warned us they are coming and we must prepare. We discussed in the winter should this day come, you would take our child to Xanti where she will be protected.”

  Although they had frequently discussed the possibility, Toran had never really considered the reality. So he protested, “I cannot leave you now! You are in no condition to escape.”

  “Toran, listen to me! Listen to the faeries! You must leave with our daughter now! I can’t run as fast as you and will only slow you down. I must stay and fight to give you the head start you need. We must keep her safe at all costs — like my mother kept me safe. Do you understand?” She grasped his arm with her free hand, tears now running freely down her cheeks. “The bag is ready — you need but put the baby in it.” She rocked their daughter, pressing her cheek to the downy hair of the baby’s head.

  “I’ll ask some of the faeries to accompany you and have the remainder stay with me to help me against the dark ones. They can help protect you and find milk for the baby as I won’t be there to — ” she choked on a sob.

  “Please, Sosha, I stay with you and fight,” pleaded Toran dropping the bag, coming to her and squeezing her hand.

  Sosha stiffened. “No! You must take her to safety quickly. Already we’re wasting time arguing. Promise me you’ll do this,” she demanded.

  “Sosha, please, there another way has to be!” However Toran knew she would not be moved.

  “There is no other way. We can’t put her in danger. She can’t protect herself so you must get her to safety. You have to do this for her. Promise me, Toran,” she pleaded as she brought his hand to her cheek which was still wet with her tears.

  “Promise, I do” he conceded. He could deny her nothing and he hoped she and the faeries would succeed. She had, as a child, beaten the dark ones with her ability to manipulate the wind. The day they had married, Toran discovered Sosha was part Human, and part Wind Elemental. Her ability to control the wind was strong, which explained why she had survived the zhralli attack. Perhaps she could best them again as a grown woman.

  Perhaps.

  He had a nagging fear though, and an urgency which took hold of him. It could have been the frantic flying of the wind faeries in the room, creating an atmosphere of frenzy and foreboding, or the whispers of fate.

  Toran remembered his history lessons about Mortan — the Unbound One — he who broke the greatest promise, broke the Elves, broke the vows. The prophecies surrounding Mortan claimed a child of Elf, Human and Elemental would destroy him. It stood to reason Sosha would be sought out as a child even though she only had Human and Elemental heritage. For if she married an Elf, her offspring would have the ability to destroy Mortan. The sorcerer apparently had not wanted to take that chance.

  Toran looked on his daughter, his heart squeezing in fear. He felt the hand of Mortan reaching out to grasp the helpless infant.

  Sosha signaled to the faeries asking them in their language if they were willing to help her and her child. They trilled their response in the affirmative.

  She assigned the older and faster ones to assi
st Toran and the baby. The younger ones she kept back with her to fight.

  “Bring the baby carrier over here so we can secure her in it.” Sosha instructed. Toran brought the baby carrier over which Sosha had sewn during the winter months — no easy feat for a blind woman. He put his arms through and brought the ties around the front. Sosha handed the infant to him, and he carefully placed his newborn daughter in the carrier.

  “You’ll have to run fast and steady so as not to jolt her, Toran. I’m trusting her to you now.”

  “This I know, Sosha. Yet name her we must before I leave. What is your wish?”

  “There is no time. You must go now. You will have to name her, but I want our daughter’s name to reflect her heritage of Elf, Human and Elemental. Now go quickly.” She reached out with her hand and he placed it on his cheek and kissed it. Toran then bent down and kissed his wife for the last time on her trembling lips. He crossed the room to the door and opening it paused to look back.

  Sosha wiped the tears from her eyes and her chin tilted up. “Go, Toran! Remember I love you, and I trust you to keep her safe. You know Mortan will do everything possible to try to get her because she’s special.”

  “I love you too, Sosha. Please be careful,” he pleaded.

  “I will.”

  He heard the lie in her voice.

  Toran took in her features one last time and closed the door behind him. He began a quick, yet careful run down the street to Kelar’s home in order to warn his friend of the danger to the village.

  Toran was not the fastest of Elves, still, he was still faster than any Human. He now worried his clumsy nature would put his precious daughter in danger from protruding roots or rocks in his path. He need not have worried for the faeries made up for his occasional stumbles with gusts of wind to right him when he started to stumble, they bent the tall grasses out of the way making his path easier, and they brought him food to eat so he took fewer breaks.

  He could not get his mind, however, off what Sosha was doing and what she would shortly be facing. He picked up his pace for he knew his part was to get their little baby to Xanti as quickly and as safely as possible.

  Toran would not fail Sosha, if he could help it. He had failed at so many things in his lifetime, and he dared not fail at this.

  The grasses blurred past him and the tiny infant slept on as Toran’s protective arms held her steady while he raced for the safety of his ancestral home.

  Eight

  Back in Kipra Village Sosha cleaned herself up, changed her clothes and slipped on her boots — the very boots Toran had delivered to her only months ago. These boots had become a treasured possession because they reminded her of her father and had brought Toran to her.

  Sosha jumped at the knock on the door, and relaxed only slightly when she Kelar called, “Sosha! Are you in?”

  She shuffled to the door still trying to get her bearings from the quick delivery and said as she opened it, “I’m here, Kelar. I sent Toran to you to warn the village.”

  Kelar’s huge body filled her doorway, the disapproval emanating off him in waves. No doubt he stood there with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

  “Toran told me to put the village on alert, then ran off as though sand tigers nipped at his heels. He gave me no explanation as to what is going on.”

  “Toran simply did as I asked. Our village is about to come under attack, or rather, my family is. So I’ll leave the village. I’m hoping this will keep all of you safe. It would be best, though, if you have everyone armed — just in case.”

  “Sosha, who would want to attack your family?”

  “I don’t know how much time I have to prepare, so I’ll try and keep it simple. Mortan is real and has been looking for me all my life. He sent zhralli after me as a child and it was a zhralli who blinded me as a young girl — not sand tigers.”

  Sosha felt Kelar’s disbelief. Humans used Mortan’s name to scare little children to stay indoors at night. They didn’t really believe he existed. She continued anyway, “Somehow they’ve found me again, and if they discover my daughter they’ll kill her as they tried to kill me. Toran has left to take our daughter to safety, and I must stall the creatures to give him time to get away.” Sosha reflexively touched her stomach which was now visibly flatter.

  This brought a rush of questions. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

  “I’m fine and the baby’s fine. But Kelar, you have to take care of the villagers while I take care of these creatures.”

  “If zhralli are on really on their way, I don’t understand how you’re going to delay them. Let the men of the village handle this, Sosha. You’re barely able to stand after delivering a baby. And I hate to rub it in, knowing how capable you are, but how are you going to see these terrible creatures in order to fight them?”

  “I can’t stand here and debate with you any longer, Kelar. I must finish getting ready and leave the village. My friends will you please show yourselves to Kelar so he knows I have your help?”

  The faeries had been there all along, but to Kelar they seemed to suddenly pop into existence, fluttering around the room.

  “Will you pick him up for me please?” They giggled and quickly swooped over to him, lifting him off the ground and unceremoniously dumping him on the floor. Sosha heard him land with a loud thud and a grunt. She heard the faeries plan another lift and drop and Kelar must have realized the same thing for he cried out, “Okay, okay!” I get the point! You have help! Just do me a favor and promise me you’ll send one of these little guys into the village if you need more help, all right?”

  “All right, Kelar, I promise,” she lied for the second time that day. “Now hurry and prepare the village.” Sosha shoved him out the door, and the faeries gave him an extra push of wind.

  Kelar scrambled to stay on his feet.

  Sosha heard Siphra’s footsteps passing Kelar in the walkway up to her hut, and the healer commented at his odd stumble. When Siphra saw Sosha standing at the door she exclaimed, “Sosha! What are you doing up? You should be resting right now. That baby will be keeping you awake for many hours soon enough, so take the rest while you can get it.” She tried to get past Sosha into the little home, but Sosha blocked her way.

  “Thank you again for your help today. I’m grateful for my daughter’s safe delivery. Were you able to find some restorative herbs I could take? Something that works quickly?” Sosha asked.

  If Siphra seemed a little flustered by Sosha’s abruptness she nonetheless patiently replied, “I brought mora tea for pain, chamomile to help you sleep at night, and chora root to help restore energy. It tastes better in tea as it’s rather bitter, so you’ll want to add honey to take the edge off, but if you don’t have time to make the root shavings into tea you can always cut a small piece and suck on it. It’s not pleasant, but takes effect much faster that way.”

  Sosha reached out for the things Siphra brought, said a quick thank you and closed the door. She was familiar with chora root and although only a little was advised at a time, she cut off a large piece and put it in her mouth to begin sucking on it. Her mouth twisted at the bitter taste and she gagged a couple of times, forcing herself swallow. She needed the surge of energy the root would give her and waited for a tingly feeling to spread throughout her body.

  Every few minutes a faery flew in to give her an update. So far, according to the faeries, all was quiet outside the village although inside the village the bell rang, alerting the men in the fields to danger. As Sosha left her home for the last time the bell stopped ringing. She was so focused on what was ahead she failed to close the door behind her.

  Sosha headed down the road and out of the village to the field. As a final preparation she took her hair out of the braid and let it hang loose so Ushinu could hide in her hair and communicate with her without being seen by the zhobani as they approached. Other faeries hid themselves close by waiting for her signal.

  As a final precaut
ion, Sosha sent a few of the faeries out to erase any traces of Toran’s path for a few miles outside of the village to make it difficult for the zhralli to search for him. The faeries not only erased his path to a point, but also swirled his scent at the end of it into multiple directions to make it confusing for any tracking creatures.

  Sosha sat down at the edge of the field and waited. She rested her hands lightly on her knees, closed her eyes and slowed her breathing down. She needed to calm down and clear her mind — focus on her task. She tuned in to the sound of the breeze blowing gently in the field and tickling the strands of hair on her forehead. The wind was neither good nor evil — it just existed. It could be harnessed for benefit or destruction. She’d use the wind today to help her family get to safety.

  Sosha didn’t know how long she sat there clearing her mind and preparing herself. As the sun was heading toward the horizon, a faery sped towards her at breakneck speed with serious news. She’d spotted zhobani and zhralli approaching quickly and quietly from the north. Sosha had chosen her spot well, for if the dark ones kept on their path they’d come straight through the northern field to her before reaching the village.

  She sighed and stood. It was time. She put another piece of chora root in her mouth for a final burst of energy. She hoped the faeries had done their job in scattering Toran’s trail. She’d delay the hunt as long as she could and give the zhobani the fight of her life.

  Although Sosha couldn’t see the five hooded figures that emerged from the plains, she recognized the dark magic reaching out from them — the same dark magic she’d felt as a young girl when she had fought the zhoban. She relied on Ushinu to tell her how many there were and their locations as they approached. Her stomach clenched to think she faced not one, but five.

  To make matters worse, she began to hear the telltale clicking of zhralli claws as well. Sweat broke out on her forehead at the sound. How long could she hold out against so many?

  Minutes? Seconds?

  Sosha needed more help. Ushinu whispered that the zhralli were still hidden in the plains. As the ominous clicking grew louder an idea came to her. She whispered a request to one of the faeries who then discretely flew off into the prairie grass. Sosha hoped her idea would work.