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

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Who Let the Dogma Out (The Elven Prophecy Book 1) Page 20

by Theophilus Monroe


  Layla chuckled. “So much for that. Seems like your people were misguided.”

  B’iff clenched his fist. “Only because a faction of the elven council believed not only in returning to Earth but conquering it. They didn’t merely want to go home; they wanted to punish humanity. To defeat the persecutors, to grow in their mastery of magic and the ways of war until they knew they could overwhelm and rule the kingdoms of the Earth.”

  “But the ancient druids were peaceable people. It was you, your people, who forced us to war.”

  “Again,” B’iff said, “not entirely true. Yes, the druids were peaceful. But once we arrived in the new world, once they were separated from the Earth they revered and all they had left was an echo of Earth’s magic, a power divorced from the source, it changed them.”

  “Like a dogma without the deity,” I added.

  B’iff cocked his head. “What do you mean, human?”

  I furrowed my brow. Being referred to as “human” was a bit jarring. I mean, it isn’t often that one is addressed by the name of his species. “I’m just speaking from my experience. If you hold on to the peripheral beliefs of any religion, if you major in the minors and lose the heart of the message, you often find yourself becoming the opposite of what your religion was supposed to be from the start. I mean, I have a religion that is based on a radical concept, a man we believe was God in the flesh who was condemned because he was so bold as to love the unlovable, accept the outcasts, forgive the unforgivable. But when people take his teachings, isolate them into sound bites divorced from the heart of his message, a radical message of acceptance, they warp his teachings into something that suits their own beliefs. You can’t have the dogma without the deity. Otherwise, it turns into precisely the opposite of what it was meant to be.”

  “Was it not in the name of this deity you professed that our people, the people who became the elves and the elven giants, were forced to leave Earth to begin with?” B’iff asked.

  I nodded. “That’s my point. People quickly forgot the heart of our faith. They lost their connection to the source. They became exactly the opposite of everything the founder of our faith professed. I suppose, if the ones who were once druids, the elves, were peaceable because they had a connection to the Earth, then when all they had was an echo of the Earth’s power but no longer had a connection to the Earth itself, it is no surprise that they would become something else. It is the heart that gives the body life. It’s the same thing when it comes to a worldview or religion or philosophy. Whatever. A good worldview, divorced from its heart, becomes a dead principle. It ceases to be life-giving and becomes a life-stealing dogma.”

  B’iff placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. I winced. If he wanted to, he could crush my clavicle, but he didn’t. His touch was gentle. “It is no wonder you survived the Blade’s cut, human.”

  “Was that why you didn’t kill him before when you had the chance?” Layla asked.

  B’iff nodded. “That, and it was never my purpose to execute humans. Despite our appearance, our people are not brutes. We do not relish killing even our enemies. But this one is more than that. He must be protected at all costs.”

  I said, “So you think I’m the chosen one, too?”

  “It is incontrovertible,” B’iff said. “The prophecy dictated that the chosen one would be born of the Earth.”

  “It what?” Layla asked. “We have the same prophecies, right?”

  “Of course,” B’iff said. “But your people only know what your priests deem necessary to teach. Further, they’ve redacted the prophecies to agree with the elven dogma.”

  “How can they do that!” Layla said. “The scrolls…”

  “We have the same scrolls,” B’iff said. “They are identical. And I’ve received word that the next seal has been broken, and it just so happened that it was on the night I inadvertently stabbed what’s-his-face.”

  “Caspar,” I said.

  “What?” B’iff asked.

  “My name is Caspar.”

  B’iff nodded, and despite his oversized incisors, managed to flash something like a grin. He was screwing with me. At least the giant had a sense of humor.

  Meanwhile, Layla was visibly disturbed. I could see a mixture of emotions in her eyes. On the one hand, it was like she was seeing the truth for the first time. She had a look of wonder, but it was mixed with pain. The feeling of betrayal. Everything she’d been told, all her people had been taught, had been a lie at worst, and a truth filtered through elven dogma at best. I put my hand on her shoulder.

  “If the seal that the orcs, the elven giants, rather, if their next prophecy was revealed, then ours was also.”

  “The seal on the elven scroll should have broken at the same time.”

  “What does this new prophecy indicate?” Layla asked.

  B’iff looked into the distance. “I do not know if I should tell you.”

  “Come on,” Layla said. “My family, my people, have kept these secrets to themselves for centuries. I just want the truth.”

  “It foretells the destruction of the Blade of Echoes.”

  All fell silent. By the look on Layla’s face, I know she realized what I’d just figured out.

  I looked at B’iff and then at Layla. “But my soul is attuned to the Blade of Echoes.”

  “And my soul is attuned to you.”

  B’iff nodded. “Then it seems the prophecy also foretells the death of the chosen one. His death, and the death of his beloved.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  We stood there in silence for what felt like hours. In truth, it was just a matter of seconds. Now I knew why B’iff was reluctant to share the prophecy. To hear I was about to die, presuming these prophecies weren’t total shit, was a bit jarring. But it wasn’t my death that bothered me. It was Layla’s.

  I thought I had been coming to her rescue in the alley. Now, this monstrosity of a man—the giant B’iff—was standing before us as a friend, and everything that began that night was going to leave both me and Layla dead.

  “Why do we have to die?” I asked.

  “Because the Blade of Echoes cannot be allowed to fall into the hands of the elven king.”

  “So when you took what you thought was the Blade of Echoes from me—”

  “I was going to destroy it. The prophecy does not indicate how it will be destroyed, only that it must be.”

  “But wouldn’t that damn your people too?” I asked. “Since the magic on New Albion wanes?”

  B’iff sighed. “If we lost our magic. If all of it was lost, there would no longer be a reason to fight. We could nourish what remains, use it in a way that does not consume us in violence and bloodshed. It is only when magic is abused that it dissipates. It is only when Earth’s power is turned toward violence that it wanes and fades. The war in New Albion is the only reason our world is failing. But if we stop fighting now and the hope of magic returning comes to pass—”

  “Then your world might be spared.”

  “It makes sense,” Layla said. “New Albion would never be the paradise it once was, what our ancestors tell us our world was like when we first introduced Earth’s magic to New Albion’s ley lines, but it would be survivable.”

  B’iff nodded.

  “There has to be a better way,” I said. “There’s a difference between merely surviving and living.”

  B’iff did his best to smile. I’m not sure his face was capable of it. “When you live in the wake of centuries of war, the ability to survive is living.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “You know, for talking about the blessing of survival just after you told both of us that we’re about to die.”

  B’iff barked a deep laugh. “Pardon me! I wasn’t thinking about that, and sorry again for laughing.”

  I chuckled. “No, it’s okay. I understand.”

  “We shouldn’t let Hector know we’ve spoken,” Layla said. “If he thinks we are at odds, that we are still fighting B’iff and he’s try
ing to get the Blade from us, we might be able to use that to our advantage.”

  “I might be destined to die,” I said. “But if that’s bound to happen, I need to at least ensure that Agnus is safe.”

  “Who is Agnus?” B’iff asked.

  “His familiar,” Layla said.

  B’iff touched his face. He still had some scars from when Agnus went claws-deep on his face on the side of the highway. “Yeah, the cat.”

  “Here’s a question,” Layla said. “How does one even go about destroying something like the Blade of Echoes? Presuming we wanted to do it, if we agreed to go along with the prophecy at the cost of our own lives, I’m not even sure that it’s possible.”

  “It is possible,” B’iff stated.

  “I figured,” Layla said. “Since you just told us you were hoping to fulfill the prophecy yourself when you thought you’d taken the Blade from us.”

  “When I charged the Blade before, I sorted it out. If you overcharge it, overwhelm it with magic… We’re talking massive quantities of magic here, more than has ever filled New Albion, more than has fueled our way of life and wars for centuries. It’s how I knew I’d fully charged it. I had to take the Blade deep into Earth’s magical core. Its whole form nearly dissipated as the Earth’s magic filled the Blade. Even my body, it felt, was at risk of being overwhelmed. Before it was destroyed, before I was consumed, I had to use the magic in the Blade to propel me out of the core, back to the ley line, and from there into the spring. That’s how the Blade burned itself into my hand. I had to use its magic when I drew it into my body to escape the magical core.”

  B’iff turned his palm to me. It was burned in the pattern of the Blade’s handle, three distinct holes.

  “That’s intense,” I said. “Looks like it hurt.”

  “That’s the thing,” B’iff said. “It didn’t hurt at all. It just looks like it did, as if I pulled the Blade from a fiery kiln. But here’s the thing. Magic flows from one item to the next like water being pressed through a line. It goes from a place of greater pressure, greater power, to a place of lesser power. The Blade of Echoes was crafted by a master smith and enchanted by ancient druids who knew more than any of us about how to create such items. The one way to overcharge the Blade is to invest it with power from the source. Not just the ley lines, but from the depths of the ley lines, like what we have at the bottom of the spring. Pretty much any enchanted item can be destroyed if magic from a more powerful source is channeled into it. But when it comes to the Blade of Echoes, there’s only one way to do it. You have to overpower it from the Earth’s source, the source of all magic.”

  “If what you say is true,” Layla said, “why shouldn’t we just destroy the Blade here and now?”

  I coughed into my hand. “Wouldn’t that sort of be like what you worried about before? If I knew about the prophecy, trying to fulfill it of my own accord?”

  “Sort of,” Layla said. “But if it’s the only way to stop my father?”

  I bit my lip. “Prophecies, at least from my experience of interpreting the ones in the Bible, are rarely cut and dried. There might be more to it than just sacrificing our lives.”

  “I concur,” B’iff said.

  I chuckled. Hearing the creature I’d previously imagined as a brute use the word “concur” was humorous to me. He was more intelligent than he appeared.

  “After all, the prophecy only dictates that the chosen one will destroy the Blade. It doesn’t say that he will die as a result.”

  “Yeah,” Layla said. “But that’s assumed.”

  I winced. “That’s what usually gets people in trouble with prophecies. When they assume the meaning and it ends up being realized in a way that they didn’t anticipate, they aren’t able to see it for what it is in the moment. They’re too blinded by their interpretation.”

  “Besides,” B’iff said, “the prophecy indicates that you will unite the peoples.”

  “The elves and the orcs,” Layla said.

  “That’s not what it says. It says the peoples,” B’iff added.

  Layla frowned. “We were taught that it would be the end of the elven wars on New Albion. That it would mean the elves finally triumphed, and the orcs accepted civilization.”

  B’iff grunted. “The elven giants have plenty of civilization. It is your kind who, despite your people’s pretentiousness, are the true savages.”

  “Enough,” I said. “This isn’t going to solve anything. I take it, regardless of whatever differences there might be, that we agree. We shouldn’t destroy the Blade of Echoes here and now, not until we know more.”

  Layla rolled her eyes. “He was going to destroy it himself if he hadn’t gotten our replica!”

  B’iff stamped his foot. “That was before I knew the chosen one’s soul was attuned to its magic. I didn’t know it would mean his death. He must not die until all has been fulfilled.”

  “Well, when it comes to elven politics and whatnot, I’m admittedly the most ignorant of all of us,” I said. “But I’m reasonably certain that Hector isn’t going to give us Agnus back unless he thinks we’ve given him the Blade of Echoes.”

  “Then we give it to him,” B’iff said. “Not the real one. We stick to your plan.”

  “Are we sure he’ll buy it?” Layla asked. “I mean, it was kind of a long shot from the start.”

  “I think I can help with that,” B’iff said. “He’ doesn’t know I’m still here. If I show up at the moment you give him the Blade and try to take it from him, he’ll have no choice but to dive through the gate to take it back to New Albion.”

  “Before he has a chance to test it,” Layla said. “The key here is that Hector doesn’t know that we know what my father’s real plan is. All he knows is that I didn’t like the idea of them using the Blade to defeat the Night Legion. I wanted him to use it to recharge the ley lines. So I’ll have to play it coy. I’ll have to convince him that I’ve come around and that all this nonsense like kidnapping the cat was unnecessary. Then, once we have the cat and he has the fake Blade, you can come out and try to take it from him.”

  “Just make sure I have my cat back first,” I said before clearing my throat. “I mean, if he is my familiar, which is what, part of the second prophecy? I need him, right?”

  “Of course,” B’iff said. “I won’t go after Hector until you have the cat in your arms. I’ll just have to find a place to hide.”

  “How are you going to do that?” I asked, surveying B’iff. “I mean, no offense, but you’re kind of hard to miss.”

  “You’d be surprised how stealthy I can be if I want to,” he said.

  “And since Hector doesn’t even realize he’s still on Earth, or even alive, he probably won’t be expecting it,” Layla added.

  “One more thing,” I said. “You mentioned you traveled the ley line?”

  “I did,” B’iff said. “Between the gateway and the wellspring here.”

  “I’m not saying I’m going to do it, but let’s say everything goes south, and as a last resort, I need to destroy the real Blade.”

  “I can show you how to travel the ley lines. It’s level-four magic. Do you think you can handle it?”

  “Level four?” I asked. “Please. I’ve managed level-five shit!”

  Layla laughed. “But he hasn’t been able to pull off much of anything at levels one or two.”

  “It’s not hard,” B’iff said. “It’s the standard way elven giants travel on New Albion.”

  Layla cocked her head. “It is?”

  B’iff nodded.

  “No wonder you guys just seem to appear out of nowhere at times.”

  B’iff laughed. “There goes our secret.”

  “Your secret is safe with me,” Layla said. “I mean, the way I look at it, by the time all is said and done, my father will probably disown me and charge me with treason.”

  B’iff nodded. “Surely so. But you will have our protection if you desire it.”

  “The protection of
orcs?” Layla asked.

  B’iff grunted.

  “Elven giants, sorry. Old habits and such.”

  “No problem, pointy ears.”

  Layla smirked. “You guys call us pointy ears?”

  “No, I just made it up. I was trying to come up with something to counter your use of the term orc. I admit it was weak.”

  “Come on,” I interjected. “Are we competing to see who can come up with the most offensive term to call the other?”

  B’iff scratched his head. “Okay, the human has a point.”

  Layla hooked her hand in my arm. “He does. Sorry, B’iff. I’ll try to watch my tongue.”

  “Then it’s planned,” B’iff said. “On the night of the full moon, we’ll meet at the intersection of the ley lines.”

  “It’s agreed,” I said.

  “Good,” B’iff said. “Now, how about you put those fins back on, and I’ll teach you how to travel the ley lines.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “We need to figure out a way to untangle our souls. You said before that my soul became attuned to the Blade of Echoes when I was stabbed, right?”

  “Yes,” Layla said, kicking her feet up on my lap as we reclined together on the couch.

  “And your soul was attuned to mine when you healed me.”

  “That’s right,” Layla said. “Rub my feet.”

  I cocked my head. “All right, since you asked so politely.”

  Layla widened her eyes and dropped her chin. “Please rub my feet?”

  I laughed as I started to massage her arch. “This is what I don’t understand. Why did your soul become attuned to mine when you healed me? Mine didn’t become attuned to Doris when I healed her at the church, or Hector’s when I healed him after B’iff gave him a concussion.”

  Layla shrugged. “I don’t know how it works. Souls don’t become attuned to objects or other people the same way all the time. It’s a mystery. I suppose, like love. I mean, if you love someone, can you give a complete answer as to why?”

 

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