Of Dark Elves And Dragons

by Greg Curtis

  They were also a very honest and decent group of farmers, unused to company for much of the year as the pass between them and the nearest village became all but impassable due to the snow. He’d happily shared a hot cup of dandelion tea and some rich mutton stew with them, and then traded a few silvers as well. He’d also made some repairs to their pass and carried out a small healing just as a favour for their hospitality. It was always good for the soul to remember that there were decent people out there, humans as well as elves, and by doing a few good deeds he felt renewed in spirit at least.

  Alan dropped the bag and it landed perfectly in the middle of the small terrace, and even as he was wheeling away from it, he could see the ancient wizards emerging from the cave mouth and heading straight for it. Despite the fire elementals and their own magic, they were quite possibly still cold in the mountains. They were still naked after all, something that still surprised him even though he’d expected it. What sort of all powerful wizard couldn’t find or create some clothes? It was another mystery to be solved.

  He let them continue their dressing in peace as he arched and wheeled through the sky above them, in part looking for any sign of trouble, but mostly just enjoying the sensation of flying. Few wizards were able to and those that could he suspected, did it far more often than they needed to if they had the strength.

  In time though he could see that all four of them were mostly dressed, and they’d retreated once more into the mouth of the cave, leaving the small terrace free for him to land on. Reluctantly he did just that, worried by just how small the terrace was. He would have to be careful or risk sliding right off the edge, which was why he aimed for the cave mouth.

  “By the gods!” To say the landing was rough would have been an understatement, and as he completely managed to miss setting his feet down on the stone and instead managed to land chest first before sliding across the ice cold stone from one side of the new terrace to the other, he was sure he could hear laughter. More so when he finally came to rest beak first against the side of the mountain, and then had to struggle to his feet, not an easy thing to do without arms or useful knees.

  Eventually he managed it though, and grateful that the feathers could hide his cheeks which would have surely been glowing bright red, he made his way over to the ancients. He even managed a quick shape shift of his throat so that he could speak.

  “You’re so small!” It wasn’t the best thing to say being neither tactful nor well thought out, but Alan was shocked as he made his way over the newly created terrace his earth elementals had built and so could finally stand beside the family, now all in the process of wrapping up in the last of the bundle of clothes and food he had managed to drop off on his first pass over the terrace, and he just blurted it out like a small child. Naturally he felt like a boorish fool the instant the words left his mouth, but it was too late to bring them back.

  As a roc he stood close to six feet tall, and as a man he was taller again, admittedly a good height for either elf or human, but Dava was at least a head shorter than him, the women closer to two. Although he had never seen an ancient before with his own eyes and had therefore never really known what to expect, somehow he had expected them to at least be tall and powerful even when he’d thought they looked small in the cavern. But then looking through elemental eyes, everyone always seemed small. Most stood ten or twelve feet high after all.

  “And you’re so rude!” It was the niece Ashiel who had spoken, clearly offended by his boorish comment, and with good reason, and if Alan had been in human form he would have turned red as a beet. As it was he stammered like an imbecile for a while knowing he had misspoken. She was the young woman he had first awoken and the one who he had apparently offended most deeply, first by gazing on her naked form, and in the subsequent few times they had spoken since he had just seemed to annoy her some more.

  Then again maybe it was the robes themselves that annoyed her. He’d bought typically sized clothes figuring they would be close enough, and seeing her in them he realized he’d made a mistake in that. The sleeves on her wool robe hung down beyond the end of her hands, and she was standing on the robe’s hem, which should have been at ankle height. Clearly he was no judge of size.

  “My deepest apologies Honoured Ancient. It is just that all my life I have been told tales of your people and their vast power and terrible wars, and somehow in my imaginings I had dreamed you to be a tall, physically powerful people, as would befit mountain killers.”

  “Mountain killers?” She stared at him coolly, upset by the term as well as everything else he’d said, and yet that at least was factual. Her people had destroyed mountains, along with much else of the world. But perhaps that was after her time.

  “Have you not looked at the seven sisters? Three of them as you can see when the mists lift, have lost their heads, while a fourth is shattered through and through. That was done by your people Honoured Ancients and yet it is barely the least of the damage done to the world in your wars.” With one wing he pointed towards the mountain range that surrounded them, and they could see the evidence for themselves. With the mists still hovering about, revealing only occasionally the terrible damage done to the sisters, it took a while for them to bear witness to the truth, long enough for them to finish dressing in the thick peasant clothes and blankets he had managed to purchase with his few silvers, for the farmers in these parts were poor at best. And yet the clothes were clean and warm which was surely what mattered in these freezing climes, and they had been woven by decent women and bought with honest coin. They might not be fancy, but they were decent as he had to remind himself.

  “The lad speaks true dear family. The Lagoria are all but destroyed, and I can only imagine that it is by the hand of the fallen.” Yet as Dava said it, Alan couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t look at the ranges. He didn’t need to; he had probably been studying them for some time while Alan had been flying back. His daughter and niece however, were not so well prepared and they studied them closely for many long minutes, pointing out with surprise the damage to the sisters as they were now called. Mountains they apparently knew well.

  Meanwhile they were busily engaged in trying to fit the robes around them more evenly, by using the rope belts to hoist up the bottom part so that they were only at ankle height, and then letting the rest of the material hang down over the belt. It was lucky that the roc form was not well designed for speaking or especially laughing, as they reminded him most of young children trying to wear their parents clothes. Apparently he wasn’t good at buying clothes for others.

  “Now good Alan, as our hungers have been fed and our bodies clothed, it falls to the question of what you wish to do with us. What are your plans?” Alan was briefly shocked by the question, practical as it was. The idea that he had plans for the ancients was simply unimaginable. And yet he had to answer.

  “Honoured Ancient -” Before he could get another syllable out the ancient held up his hand and Alan knew he was being told to stop. He obeyed. Even as physically close as he was to these people and as ordinary as they looked, they were still ancients and he would not dare disobey.

  “Please lad. Enough with the Honoured Ancients. Though we may have slept for thousands of years, I am only one hundred and two. My wife is considerably younger, and our daughter and niece are both barely in their forties. You make us feel like elders when we are not. It is uncomfortable.”

  “My apologies. Then what should I call you?” Alan caught himself only just in time as he almost added the very title they disliked.

  “By our names. I am Dava, and this is my wife Narinne, our daughter Esille and our niece Ashiel. You have saved us from our eternal rest or worse, death had we finally awoken and tried to leave the chamber, and you have surely earned that simple courtesy.”

  “Though you do me too much honour, I will surely respect your wishes.” He bowed low to the ancient as he considered only proper, not that the roc form was particularly well designed for such a
gesture. He was lucky not to fall flat on his face in front of them.

  “As to my plans, or rather yours now that you have awoken, I have sadly had little chance to reflect upon such matters. I had hoped to bring you first to my home, a small cottage only I’m afraid, and a day and a half’s flight south east of here. From there I hoped to send a message to the elders of the province of Soolleni Woods, who would by then I expected have a course laid out for you since it was they who asked me to seek you out. But if you cannot fly then that may be more difficult.”

  “I did not say that we could not fly, just that we could not transform as you have into a great bird to do so.” For the first time there was a new expression on the ancient’s face, a wry smile, and Alan suspected that their method of flight might be as impressive as he would have expected of ancients. Finally some evidence of their power was about to be his and he was eager to see it.

  “Yours is a most sensible plan, although perhaps a few days rest in your home before you summon your elders might be in order. A chance for us to learn something of your world. If that would be acceptable to you.”

  “I would be pleased to share my home with you and your family for as long as you wish Hon - Dava. Though I really must impress upon you that it is only a modest cottage. The elves will surely find you much grander quarters.”

  “We are only modest people and I’m sure it will be all that we could hope for. Sofi anon!” With a single click of his fingers for effect perhaps and the two ancient words, he summoned something, and Alan could feel the magic like a lightning bolt striking too close to home, ruffling all his feathers. Whatever else he was, the ancient was a powerful spellcaster, despite his denials.

  Perhaps a dozen heartbeats later, the spell was complete as the object summoned appeared, and yet Alan didn’t quite know what to make of it. It was a carpet, a big, thick rug, surely large enough to have covered the main room of his cottage, and it floated in front of them as if supported by the wind. But there was no wind, and this carpet had nothing of wool in it. Instead it had been crafted of feathers and twine, and was held together by magic.

  Before he could even ask the women gathered up the remains of the food he had brought them, and stepped on to the carpet as it lay there on the newly created terrace, or actually as it floated perhaps an inch or two above it, and took up places in its centre where they sat cross legged and leaned back into the thick pillows that seemed to be a part of its structure. Apparently they had done this before.

  “Ancient? Dava?” Alan wasn’t entirely sure what to say, except that he had no idea what the carpet was or how it might work. But he quickly realised it was their means of flying, whatever it was, and that despite its seemingly insubstantial nature, it hadn’t sagged under the women’s weight.

  “Be at ease Alan. The carpet will carry us happily and easily as fast as you can fly, and it has no traps in it. During the long centuries as we have slumbered it has been safely stored in the realm of magic, far from the possibility of mortal interference. And it can also carry your own luggage, rather than having you drag it around on a rope from your ankles.” And before he could even think to argue about it, not that he would have dared, Narinne picked up the rest of his bundle of clothes and armour, and placed it in the middle of the carpet with the rest of their gear, before taking her seat upon it once more. Of course he suddenly realised, if they could store a carpet in this realm of magic, whatever or wherever that might be, why couldn’t they have stored some clothes as well? Or food? But he wasn’t about to ask such an impertinent question.

  “Besides,” Esille piped up with her hands covering her mouth as she tried to keep from laughing and didn’t completely succeed, “A bag would just add to your problems landing.” Then she did burst out laughing, and Ashiel joined her, the two girls suddenly in hysterics, and he could do nothing but stand there and wait for the laughter to end. It took a while.

  “Then good elves it would be my pleasure to lead you back to my humble abode. But first we will have to gain a lot of height, and then steer a careful course between the mountains. There are said to be dragons still living in them, and while they ignored me as I flew here, with four wizards of such power as yours, it may pay to be even more cautious.”

  “The dragons still live here?” Dava seemed surprised but apparently pleased by the thought, which struck Alan as unexpected. Few would want to run into a dragon under any circumstance.

  “I had not thought. But they will not threaten us. Rest assured of that. They are our oldest and dearest of friends.”

  Chapter Four.

  Alan was napping in the sunshine, enjoying the warmth of the early spring morning, letting the awakening life fill his spirit, when he felt someone shaking him by the shoulder and calling his name as she tried to wake him.

  It was Ashiel, and despite the fact that he quite enjoyed her company, his first instinct was to tell her to go away. But he didn’t, not when he knew it would be important. Ashiel didn’t approach him unless it was important. She was still suspicious of him, even after a week or more of having lived under his roof, which bothered him more than he cared to admit. She was a fair young maiden of decent birth, and very attractive with it, and the thought of her considering him as either a criminal or evil was not pleasant. Still he kept his thoughts to himself as he always did.

  “Ashiel?”

  “Aunt Narinne says that someone’s coming.” It didn’t take him more than a few seconds to let his awareness flow out into the woods that were his home, and feel the riders and their horses coming with purpose and haste, but not in anger or fear. And among them were several who were elders with strong magic swirling around them. Magic though he hated to admit it, that was as strong as his.

  “Elves from Soolleni Woods, perhaps a dozen riders, three powerful spellcasters and three elders. I’d guess they’ve got the message I sent. They’ll be here in about an hour.” He resigned himself to the unfortunate intrusion into his home. After all he’d expected it.

  “You can see all that from here?” For once she seemed interested in his abilities rather than suspicious of them, which was a pleasant change.

  “I can sense it. These are my woods, my forest, my home. I know everything that happens in them, and I can see through the eyes of all the creatures in them for many leagues. I guess we’d better put some tea on, and set out some tables and chairs. And then I’d better dress.” He didn’t really want to, he was comfortable in his peasant garb as Narinne called it, but with elders visiting him, it would pay to be presentable. Especially when what he’d already demanded of them - and which now that he had fulfilled his side of the deal they would be honour bound to carry out - was so important. Rudeness would not be tolerated.

  He rose from the carefully shaped rock, swinging his legs over the side and sat up properly, feeling at least rested. After the nigh on five days of flying, transformations and the spellcasting he’d done just to find the ancients and bring them home, it had taken nearly a full week just to recover. In all his life he’d never used his magic so much or so continually, and yet he felt good for it. In time he knew, once he had recovered fully, he would be the stronger for his efforts.

  “If you’ll permit my saying so Ashiel, you’re looking especially festive this morning.” Which she was. As his eyes opened wide to greet the sunny day, he couldn’t help but notice her bright yellow dress, almost as cheerful as the great glowing orb of fire itself, and the garland of wildflowers she was wearing as a necklace. With her long silver hair reflecting the sunlight and the smile on her perfect face, she was a vision from the Earth Mother herself, as she was every day.

  For once she allowed a smile to grace her face, and Alan in turn felt pleased to have said something, anything to make her happy. It wasn’t easy. Ashiel unlike the others, was missing her family, by turn wondering if they had perhaps survived, could still be somewhere sleeping, or had awoken long since and passed on. She was by turns grieving and hopeful. It was a difficult road fo
r her to walk. The rest of the family had been comforting her as best they could and bringing the familiar comforts of their ancient home to her and his humble cottage.

  Thus Narinne and Esille had been busy sewing new garments for all of them, almost from the moment they’d arrived in his forest, the first of which they had given to their niece. The material for the clothes they’d bought from the nearby human village of Silver Falls, creating quite a stir as they’d flown in on their magic carpet, but not as much as when they’d spent all his remaining copper and silver on materials and food.

  It was something he might never get used to about these ancients, though he would always enjoy it. They looked like elves although somewhat smaller in stature than most others and silver of hue instead of gold, but their ways were anything but. They avoided the plain white garb favoured by most elves, choosing bright clothing which brought colour to even the dullest of days. They loved flowers too, choosing to wear them and even festoon their living quarters with them, which now included his cottage. To add to that they were far more relaxed and informal than the elves he knew, and the formal nods, bows and greetings were more likely to be replaced by smiles and hugs whenever they met.