Who Let the Dogma Out (The Elven Prophecy Book 1)

by Theophilus Monroe

When I was a kid, I thought I’d figured it out. I’d run and dive headlong into the couch. It was like flying. If I could keep doing it, but every time starting my jump just a little farther away, it stood to reason that eventually I’d be flying. Perfectly logical, right? Until I thought I’d mastered it and decided to test my theory by jumping off the hearth.

  My dreams had been shattered.

  Yes, they tell kids they can be anything they want to be if they set their minds to it. That piece of advice only applies to kids who don’t have much of an imagination. In addition to wanting to be Superman, my list of things I wanted to do included being the next Michael Jordan, although I lacked coordination and topped out at five feet nine inches. I’ll never be able to dunk a basketball, and that’s okay. It took a lot of time, several prayers, and years of counseling, but I’ve accepted that.

  I take that back. If I can visualize it, I can fly.

  Air Cruciger!

  Maybe Air Caspar is better.

  My last name wasn’t the easiest to pronounce.

  I’d have to work on a nickname. A good superhero name shouldn’t twist people’s tongues.

  But even in my middle thirties, the ability to fly, yes, there was so much I could do!

  I shook my head. Who was I fooling? I mean, there was a reason why God never gave me the powers of Superman no matter how often I’d prayed for them. He knew me well enough to realize I likely wouldn’t use those powers selflessly. I wouldn’t strive to be a hero.

  I’d probably use my powers to be the best NFL running back in history. I mean, why the hell was Clark Kent a newspaper reporter when he could have been a multi-million dollar NFL star?

  Layla was raising her voice now, and I didn’t need to ask Agnus to relay what she was saying. She was pissed.

  “I never would have taken this mission if I knew you were just going to use the Blade to do the same thing the orcs were going to do if they had the magic.”

  I heard her father’s voice reply. He wasn’t raising his voice as much. Agnus was about to fill me in, but I brushed him off.

  “No need, Agnus. Layla can tell us what she wants us to know when she comes out. It’s rude to listen in on people’s conversations.”

  Agnus huffed. “She told us she didn’t care if we listened.”

  I sighed. “What people say and what they mean are often two different things.”

  Agnus stared at me blankly. “Why are you humans so confusing? I mean, why can’t you just say what you mean?”

  “That’s a good question,” I said. “Probably because if humans said what we thought all the time, we’d be a lot crueler to each other.”

  “So what? Most people are assholes at their core. You think it makes it easier to live with each other if you act like you’re better than that?”

  “Well, yeah,” I said, scratching my head. “Fake it until you make it. Generally speaking, if you treat people better, I find that you actually end up having kinder thoughts about them, too.”

  “So you lie to yourself until it becomes true. How is that not delusional, Caspar?”

  I bit my lip. “It’s about not hurting people unnecessarily. Sometimes kindness is more important than honesty.”

  “How can deceit be kind?” Agnus asked.

  I cocked my head. “Well, deceit isn’t kind. But sometimes things should go unsaid if no good would come of it.”

  “Trust me, Casp. I’ve gone my whole life up to a few days ago with all my thoughts going unheard. I’m not about to go back to that.”

  “I’m not saying you should. I’m just saying, sometimes we need a little balance between speaking our minds and knowing when to bite the tongue.”

  Agnus cocked his head. “If you had teeth like mine, you’d avoid biting your tongue at all costs.”

  I chuckled. “I suppose so. Even with regular molars, it can be awfully painful.”

  “And while we’re on the topic of balance, maybe I speak too freely now that I can. But Casp, you have the opposite problem.”

  I shrugged. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve seen the way Layla looks at you. And I’ve known you my whole life. You look at her differently than anyone else.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Agnus, what’s your play here? I know you like her.”

  Agnus stared at me blankly. “Look, I might be a little forward, but I know what I am. I know I could never be involved with an elf or even a human. We’re just not in the same league.”

  “Agnus,” I said, trying to choose my words carefully, “your feelings are nothing to be ashamed of. And what you are? There’s nothing wrong with being a cat!”

  Agnus cackled, clutching his chest with his front right paw. “Silly human.”

  I scrunched my brow. “Did I say something humorous?”

  Removing his paw from his chest, he brushed it through the air as if to dismiss the thought. “I’m not ashamed of being a cat, Casp. Please! I’m ashamed that I demean myself by having affection for an elf! I mean, she’s so close to being human it’s practically perverse! I mean, I’m a cat for my sake, not God’s sake. For my sake!”

  I laughed. “Nothing to be ashamed of, Agnus.”

  “I’m not some kind of animal!”

  I had to bite my tongue, painful or not. After just telling Agnus how it’s sometimes best not to say what you’re thinking, I ascertained that rebutting his claim would lack the sensitivity his remark probably warranted.

  Click.

  The door to my bedroom swung open. Layla walked through, her head low and her fists clenched.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “My father,” Layla said, “insists we bring him the Blade.”

  “Isn’t that what you’d expect he’d want?” I asked.

  Layla walked past me and plopped down onto my couch. “Of course. I knew he wanted me to recover the Blade. But he isn’t using it to save our world.”

  I nodded. “He wants to end the war.”

  “I get it,” Layla said, folding her arms over her chest. “What’s to say that if we restored magic to New Albion and things went back to how they’ve been for centuries, the war wouldn’t just keep going? If only he could see what I see.”

  Layla looked at me, choking back her tears.

  “What do you see?” I asked.

  “I see you, Caspar. I see what you are. The prophecy…”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know what to say about that. You still won’t tell me what this prophecy says I’m supposed to do, presuming I’m the one it's talking about.”

  Layla took a deep breath. “The chosen one is meant to unite the peoples, unite us with magic. He’s supposed to restore peace and justice to our world. But what my father wants isn’t justice. I know the orcs are supposed to be our enemies, but if we want peace, subjugating them isn’t the answer. Conquerors never treat the conquered as equals. But he believes that peace and justice can only be achieved by subjecting the orcs to elven rule, by civilizing them.”

  “Well, what do you intend to do about it?”

  Layla shook her head. “I don’t know. I mean, if he could see that you are the chosen one.”

  I bit my lip. “Layla, I heard you say I fulfilled four of the seven signs already. I mean, Agnus heard you. He was listening at the door.”

  Layla looked at Agnus and shook her head.

  “What?” Agnus asked. “Sue me.”

  “My point is,” I said, “there are still three left. Which four have I fulfilled? I know I survived a wound from the Blade of Echoes. I have a familiar; you said that was one of the signs. I’m still a bit uncertain that Agnus qualifies.”

  “Have you seen my résumé?” Agnus asked. “Why wouldn’t I qualify?”

  “Your résumé?” I asked. “All that’s on it is a lot of television.”

  “And an ability to lick my butt.”

  “That’s not a qualification for much,” I said, shaking my head.

  Agnus said, “I’d like to see you try it!�
��

  I bit my lip. “No, you wouldn’t.”

  Layla backhanded me on my shoulder. “I don’t want to see that either.”

  “Don’t worry. I can barely bend over to touch my shoes, much less…never mind. Why are we talking about this, anyway?”

  “You started it,” Agnus piped up.

  “No, I didn’t. I was asking about the prophecy, and your qualifications came up. You’re the one who mentioned…whatever.” I turned back to Layla, who was grinning from one elf ear to the other. “That’s only two signs of the prophecy. What else have I fulfilled?”

  “When you flew through the woods at Meramec Springs. That was fifth-degree magic, the highest level. Caspar, I can’t do that. Hector can’t either. There have only been a handful of elves in all our history who ever reached the fifth degree.”

  “All right,” I said. “Can humans generally wield magic more powerfully than anticipated?”

  “They can’t,” Layla said. “Trust me. What you did was exceptional.”

  “Be that as it may. What else have I fulfilled?”

  “That’s it,” Layla said, turning away and curling the drawstring on her hoodie around her finger.

  “You told your father I’d fulfilled four of them. That’s only three.”

  Layla bit her lip. “I don’t know if I can tell you about the other one.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “I mean, if I already fulfilled it, I can’t manipulate how it might come to pass.”

  Layla took a deep breath, reached over, and took my hand. “For me, it’s the most convincing sign yet. I’m not saying you’ve fulfilled it, but you’re well on your way.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t understand. What is it you’re not telling me?”

  Layla leaned over and kissed me on the lips. I wrapped my arm around her and kissed her back before she pulled away and looked me in the eye.

  “Is it that I’m a good kisser?”

  Layla shook her head. “It’s one reason, if not the biggest reason, my father is so resistant to admit it. The prophet declared that the chosen one would win the heart of the king’s daughter and their love would…”

  I tilted my head a little. I couldn’t help but grin. I don’t know if I was in love with Layla. It was too soon for that. But there was something about her that I couldn’t deny had captured my attention. I could see myself falling for her eventually. “Their love would what?”

  Layla took a deep breath. “Their love, the prophet declared, would lead to more bloodshed in a single day than our kingdom has seen in all its years since arriving on New Albion.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Talk about emotional swings. The thrill of the kiss, then the grim revelation that if I was the chosen one, this love would lead to bloodshed and presumably the deaths of thousands. What was someone supposed to do with information like that? No wonder Layla had been so reluctant to reveal the remaining signs of the prophecy. It made sense that Hector was so put off by the suggestion that I’d fulfilled it, not just because it meant his ex might fall in love with me but because if it was true, an unavoidable tragedy was on the horizon.

  “Is there anything we can do to stop it?” I asked.

  “It’s a prophecy, Caspar. If you are fulfilling it, we can try to resist it, but in the end, doing that might only make things worse. The good news is that according to the prophecy, eventually the resolution is peace and justice.”

  “Are we talking about elf bloodshed, or is it the death of elven giants? That one, your father has planned already.”

  Layla shook her head. “The prophecy, at least the way I learned it, doesn’t indicate whose blood is going to be spilled.”

  I took a deep breath. “God, grant me the serenity…”

  Layla tilted her head to the side.

  “It’s a prayer. It continues by asking God to give us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

  Layla pressed her fingers to her parted lips. “Wow. I mean, I’m not sure about the God part.”

  I shook my head. “In AA, we say that prayer at the beginning of every meeting. People there have their ideas about God. Defining God isn’t the point. The significance of the prayer is in recognizing that we lose our peace if we focus on things outside our control.”

  “And have the wisdom to discern the difference,” Layla said. “I like that part.”

  “For me, it just means trying to do whatever the next right thing might be. I don’t know about prophecy. I suppose things will come to pass how they should. I can’t worry about that. But I can do whatever is right, right now.”

  Layla nodded. “I can’t let my father have the Blade of Echoes. The orcs might be brutish by elven standards, but if my father has his way, there won’t be a single orc alive who isn’t a slave. And that isn’t, as you’d say, the next right thing.”

  I squeezed Layla’s hand. “You said before that there were seven prophecies.”

  Layla nodded. “Four revealed, three that remain sealed.”

  “Sealed?” I asked, raising my eyebrow.

  “As I said, the high priests have the scrolls, but there are a total of seven. Originally, all of them were sealed by magic. The first four have opened at various times in our history since we arrived on New Albion. Those are the ones we are taught. But there are three more scrolls, each containing a component of the prophecy. They remain sealed. Not even the high priests can read them until the seals break.”

  “So, you’re saying I’ve fulfilled all the prophecies that are already known.”

  Layla nodded. “And more than that, the last one—the prophecy I just told you about.”

  “About the chosen one loving the king’s daughter?” I asked.

  “That seal opened on the day I was born. Many of our theologians, though not all of them, believe that was no coincidence. It meant I was the princess about whom the prophecy was given.”

  I bit my lip. “Which means when you were dating Hector, he had a different future.”

  Layla laughed. “He thought he was the chosen one. My father believes it still. One more reason he sent Hector after me.”

  “But Hector hasn’t fulfilled any of the other marks of the prophecy,” I said.

  Layla shook her head. “I’m half-surprised that when he had the Blade, he didn’t cut himself just to test it.”

  I shrugged. “Perhaps he has doubts of his own if a cut by the Blade would kill anyone other than the chosen one.”

  “I’m sure that’s it,” Layla said. “But now I fear that given the opportunity, he’ll do whatever he can to prove that you cannot be the chosen one.”

  “Makes sense,” I said. “I’ll watch my back.”

  “Hector is a warrior, but he isn’t dumb. If he realizes I have feelings for you and hopes to win my heart himself, thinks he might be the chosen one, he’ll know better than to do anything to hurt you. At least, not in any overt way.”

  “So I’m safe?” I asked.

  “Not necessarily,” Layla said. “If he has an opportunity to let something happen to you or to make it look like an accident, I have no doubt that he’ll allow it. It’s probably one reason why if he suspected anything, he sent you after B’iff.”

  I pressed my lips together. “He thought B’iff would kill me. And he thought if I believed you were in danger, I’d come after you.”

  Layla nodded. “But you ended up manifesting fifth-level magic. You fulfilled another mark of the prophecy when he’d hoped to prove once and for all that you weren’t the chosen one.”

  “I suppose that explains why he was so friendly when he first met me when I was in the car.”

  “And why he treated you so coldly after.” Layla pulled the Blade of Echoes out of her hoodie pocket. She’d wrapped it in a wad of toilet paper. Not the most reverent way to handle a sacred relic, but I supposed it made sense. She didn’t want to risk cutting herself with it. After all, while o
ne of the prophecies might have something to do with her, she was not the chosen one who could survive a cut by the Blade.

  Layla removed the toilet paper.

  It was the first time I’d had a chance to examine it.

  It wasn’t a large blade, only nine or ten inches and hewn from a single piece of what I assumed to be bronze. Though covered as it was in a dark-green patina, it was difficult to know for certain what it was made of. It was a single-edged curved blade and came to a sharp point at the tip. It was the tip, not the relatively dull edge, that I guessed had been responsible for my wound a few nights before. The handle had three holes in it, I assumed to lighten the knife and make it easier to wield. There was a small bronze ring at the end of the handle. I wasn’t a weapons expert, but the ring might have prevented the knife from flying out of someone’s hand in close combat.

  All in all, there was nothing remarkable about the Blade. I imagined it was probably a fairly common item at the time it was made.

  But if I went into my mind’s eye, if I focused, the relatively plain Blade became luminescent and magnificent. It was hard to believe this Blade contained enough magic to vivify a dead planet. This Blade had turned New Albion, a once-uninhabitable place, into a world that had sustained elves and giants for centuries.

  “We need to make sure Hector doesn’t get this,” Layla said. “We have about three weeks until the next full moon. That means he has that long to try to steal the Blade and bring it to my father. Sure, my father would prefer that I bring it to him myself, but if Hector hasn’t talked to him yet, which would surprise me, they’ll speak soon. It’s a fairly sure bet what my father will order him to do.”

  “To steal the Blade from you? To bring it back to New Albion on the full moon?”

  Layla nodded. “Of course. I suspect he’ll also want to see that you are dealt with.”

  I took a deep breath. Being dealt with could only mean one thing, and it wasn’t something I was particularly thrilled about. Not that I was afraid of death, but I didn’t want to die. And as much as I’d learned in all my years studying the Bible, it was fairly clear that anytime someone was associated with a fulfilled prophecy, there would be others who either doubted the prophecy or hoped to thwart its fulfillment. In either case, those who’d rather not see a prophecy fulfilled typically resorted to the same strategy: kill the supposed chosen one, whoever he might be.