On one hand, he was favored by their deity, but on the other hand, he was closely associated with their boogeyman. He was also Annala’s master via the Subjugation Collar. On top of all that, he was a grendel, which was a related species to orcs and trolls. Both history books and folklore were full of tales where they were bitter enemies with elves. All he could do was pack a set of formal clothing, a couple of gifts, a few daggers, and hope for the best.
With all these items, Eric shifted his bag to his back and walked out of his bridge house. There was one more thing to do before he left on his leave.
The sound of explosions greeted him as he entered the guild’s lobby. He couldn’t hear the doorbell’s ring, they were so loud. On the back wall was a giant CV screen showing uniformed humans attacking uniformed ogres in an urban area. Sitting in cushy seats behind the front desk, Mia and Zettai shared a big carton of popcorn. He noted with amusement that their hair was braided. Mia paused the movie, spun around, and said, “Whaddaya want?”
Zettai giggled.
“I see you two are getting along. What are you watching?”
Mia passed him the CVD case. “Keladron’s Champions. What can I do for you?”
“I came to make sure Basilard didn’t back out on my leave of absence.”
“Nope,” Zettai chirped. “He’s taking me on a vacation.”
“Really?”
Zettai nodded. “No training or clan politics; he didn’t even tell them where we’re going. It’s somewhere far away, so we can ‘properly bond as father and daughter.’”
“That’s won—”
“The asshole that sired me forgot I existed unless it was convenient and I wished the other one would forget me every day. I’m glad I don’t have their rotten genes anymore.”
Mia nudged her. “Don’t hit me with them negative waves so early in the morning.”
Zettai giggled again. “You’re right. I’ll forget them and focus on the positive.”
“Did you put it in your computer?” Eric asked.
“Yes. It’s scheduled.”
“Did you tell The Dragoness?”
“Yes. She wishes you a fun holiday.”
“What about Old Man Aaloon?”
“I told him when I gave my cousin a tour of the building.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want him hunting me down and—”
“Go! You’re delaying the climax.”
Mia turned back around and unpaused the movie.
Outside the guild, Eric took her words to heart and cast one of his favorite spells: Winged Feet. Like a gust, he tore through the streets of Roalt to the public library in Scholar Town and only slowed down slightly when he arrived. He scooped his girlfriend into his arms mid-stride. She protested, but he pretended that the wind blowing past his ears deafened him and ran straight to Royal Town. When he arrived at the moat, he shifted his legs into that of a grendel, chanted Wind Jump, and soared clear over it. Landing on the balls of his feet on the far bank, he jumped straight up and over the curtain wall. His landing cratered the ground on the other side.
“You might want to fix that,” he said to the soldiers. “Security risk, ya know?”
“Abyss take you, Trickster’s Choice,” they said in reply.
Annala pulled her hood over her face and smacked him. When he didn’t put her down, she smacked him again.
“This is embarrassing…”
“There’s no need for my lady to walk when I can carry her.”
She looked at the ground and, in a soft voice, she said, “If you insist, master.”
Immediately, Eric put her on her feet and stepped away. “That’s not fair.”
She returned with her impish smile. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“It’s not funny.”
“Relax. The control matrix of the Subjugation Collar cannot begin its programing routines as long as my Seed of Chaos jams its frequency and the suppression matrix will take time to complete its process. Until my hair color turns dead white, my mind is safe.”
She thrust her head under his nose and pulled back her hood just enough for him to see her bangs. The roots were bleached, but the rest of it was the same dull golden-brown.
“I have plenty of time left. Now, come on. My dad’s expecting us at the Arch.”
She grabbed his hand and led him into the castle. Fairtheora and a human were waiting for them. This human was Henry Pupil, the Royal Archiver. Like Annala, he was immortal. Eric met him shortly after his return to Tariatla and he expressed an interest in strengthening the friendship between humans and elves. It was finally time to do just that.
Anyone who wished to travel from Roalt to Dnnac Ledo or vice versa had to pass through the Arch of Kresnik. It was a teleportation magi-tech device that was installed during a period of better relationships between Ataidar and Dnnac Ledo. It was located in a secluded area of the castle both for the security of the Arch itself and also as a demonstration of trust between the human country and the elven city-state: “We both have back doors into each other’s homes.” Naturally, this door was locked from both sides. After the Conversion War and other events soured their relationship, the Arch fell into disuse.
The security and maintenance costs for the Arch had long since felt the axe of budget cuts. It was too expensive for something that was never used. Thus, it was sealed up and forgotten generations ago. No mortal in the castle even knew where it was until yesterday.
The staff of the Department of International Relations searched high and low but couldn't find it. Some of the newer ones started panicking over disappointing the queen (and possibly incurring divine fury). Instead, she merely assigned the castle's archivist to aid their investigation, and Henry led them straight to it.
Being immortal, he not only remembered the last time it was used, he was present when it was first constructed. Its architect, Kresnik, was a friend of his. They still played mahjong over the internet. That was why he was assigned to help them.
“Annala, don’t you know where it is?” Eric asked. “You must have come through here a year ago to start the study abroad thing.”
“Actually, I didn’t. You see, the Arch had experienced such a prolonged period of inactivity, that, when I stepped through...there was no one to greet me.”
“Again, I must apologize for that incident,” Fairtheora said. “As Royal Sentinel, I should have been aware of such a device and kept it under surveillance.”
“Dad couldn’t convince the Knight of International Relations at the time that such a room existed, so I went back through the Arch and Mom sent me here the long way.”
“What about Quando?”
“He was walking the earth and ultimately settled here. My aunt received letters from him from as far away as Najica and Omnicidstrila.”
“‘Omnicidstrila’?” Eric repeated.
“It’s an island where everything is trying to kill you.”
“Ahh.”
“Anyway, this will be the first time the portal has been used from the human side since the Conversion War.”
“I will lead you to it,” Henry Pupil said, “and Sir Fairtheora will turn off the security features as we go.”
The path to the Arch of Kresnik began with a toilet in an out-of-the-way area of the castle. It hadn’t been cleaned in ages because servants weren’t likely to stumble across the passageway. Henry pushed aside a stone and inputted a runic code to reveal the entrance to the Path of Human-Elf Friendship.
It was musty, dark, and cobwebbed. Something further down the tunnel put Annala on edge and she grabbed Eric’s arm as they entered. Eric sensed it too; a feeling that something dangerous was up ahead. Henry was downright giddy as he led the way, chortling and talking to himself about the "interesting times" sure to come. Suddenly, he stopped. Then he gestured to Fairtheora. The orc nodded and set his hand against an invisible something. With a flash of thaumaturgy, a barrier appeared. It was the same non-light as Nulso’s Armor of Stability. Annala clutched tighter to Eric’s arm.
“This is a Lawful Security Shell,” Henry explained. “It surrounds the Arch of Kresnik on all sides and was put in place as the last line of defense against elven invaders. Not only would it be a bugger for elves to pass through, it also radiates Universal Dread that only they can feel. Thus, it can be used to ID them even if they shapeshift. Fascinating, no?”
“Blasphemous!” Annala declared.
“Reverent,” Fairtheora countered. Placing his second hand upon it, he intoned, “This crossing has been sanctioned by Her Majesty. In her name, I command you to disengage.”
At once, the Lawful Security Shell disappeared and the hairs on the back of Annala’s neck lay down. She didn’t let go of Eric’s arm.
As they progressed, layers upon layers of wards enshrouded the chamber designed to keep everything in as much as keep everything out. In addition to solid gates, the other barriers ranged from a wall of Sacred Fire (which Annala noted would be tremendously difficult for elves to cross) to lines of salt that she laughed at. Henry explained that numerous superstitions were prominent at the time of construction and so were incorporated into it. After passing through the last of the human security features, they arrived at the chamber.
It was solid orichalcum and reinforced with titanium and other materials Eric didn’t recognize. Runes blinked in and out of its surface, but their power could still be felt. He got the sense that the blinking had to do with preventing a human from discovering precisely what they were and what they did. The door was not guarded by a human or an elf, but a golem, and it wasn’t like any golem Eric had ever seen. It looked truly alive.
Annala had to provide several forms of identity to the golem and get her dad on the phone to release a number of locks to access the area. Until all these checkpoints were passed, no one was allowed near the Arch. Hence why it lay untouched for centuries.
That book was right; elves really are paranoid.
During his last library stay, Eric researched the history of his new species and a driving factor was their fear of his original species. Despite all their power, elves were few in number and reproduced rarely, so humans could overrun them by sheer force of numbers. Combine that with the humans’ reputation for ordercraft, the only means of suppressing their powers, and humans were the true elven boogeyman. They viewed Dengel with disgust, but he was long gone and there were billions of humans all around them. While this was not the only reason for their seclusion, it was the most driving and the one most often cited.
Scientists of other species went to horrifying lengths to find out how they lived so long. A slave who heals instantly and never grows old was highly prized; a golden-brown wig was a status symbol. There were points in Tariatla's history where entire economies were centered on the trade of humanoids with pointed ears. Then there were those who hunted out of fear.
Nigh unkillable, ageless, and always on the cutting edge of magical technology, elves struck fear into the hearts of mortals just as they themselves struck fear into the hearts of elves. Their resemblance to The Trickster and penchant for going insane (like Annala's grandfather) fanned the fear into hysteria. Countries of the past demanded that elves come out into the open, live in designated areas, and turn over whatever weapons they'd developed. If they agreed, they were often enslaved. If they refused, militaries tried to flush them out. One such incident was the first act of the first stage of the Conversion War.
Entire elven villages became war machines, and mortal countries became more determined than ever to place the elusive elves under their control. Hundreds of thousands of mortals died and whole cities were razed before one elf village was found and destroyed. That one village was a higher percentage of the total population than all the mortal deaths up to that point.
Centuries later, elf villages were more secluded and more secured than ever before in the planet's history. They still didn't share their technology freely, but there was a market for elf exports if you had connections and were willing to use currencies other than money. Even then, precautions were taken to ensure whatever they sold couldn't be reverse-engineered. In the case of the Arch, only an elf on the other side could activate it, and until one did, it was just a chunk of stone without as much as a rune to reveal its functions.
The security golem, satisfied with Annala’s credentials, stepped aside. Annala placed her hand on the door and spoke with her father. He opened the door remotely. Beyond it stood a gleaming archway on a raised pedestal. White and gold stone was inscribed with runes that baffled Eric. Not even Grey Dengel could understand them; in the last two thousand years, elven knowledge and science had advanced far beyond him. This was the Arch of Kresnik, the link between Roalt and Dnnac Ledo.
“This is where we part ways,” Henry said. “I wish you luck.”
“On behalf on Her Majesty,” Fairtheora said, “so do I.”
They did an about face and returned the way they came. Eric and Annala entered the chamber and the door shut behind them.
“Okay, Dad, we’ve arrived at the Arch and we’re alone. Password is ‘Meza pogos on the stick in his ass.’”
“Is that really the password?”
The Arch lit up as the machine activated. Runes came to life one by one and twisted the space-time between themselves and their counterparts on the other side. A screen of light fabricated in the space between the arms of the device until it was solid and opaque.
“Dad doesn’t like Meza.”
Annala grabbed Eric’s hand and together they walked into the light. The following sensations can be roughly described as squash, purple, musical harmony, pongee cord, outer space, and square dance. When they came out the other side, Eric threw up. Fortunately, Ponix was nearby with a bucket.
“Thanks for warning us,” Ponix said. “I’d hate to ask the guards to clean that up.”
“Eeeeh…I’m a grendel now,” Eric said. “I have a….Why does this still…bhleee!”
Annala held him steady, rubbed his back, and then wiped his mouth after the third heave.
“I’ve never felt this bad after a teleport….How far did we go?” Eric asked.
Annala winked and waggled her pointer finger. “Sora wa himitsu desu.”
“I’m The Trickster’s Choice! Surely you can tell me.”
“Especially not you,” Ponix said. “We call him ‘Overturner of Fortune’ too, you know.”
Eric looked around. It was a simple room with nothing in it except the Arch, but that didn’t mean it was unadorned. The walls, ceiling, and floor were covered in a vast array of complex and interconnected runes. Grey Dengel’s knowledge informed him that their general purpose was to contain anything that could enter or exit the room. As such, it was teleport proof, blast proof, dig proof, etc. There was only one door and two more elves guarded it.
“Okay, so where are we?”
“You’re in the Teleportation Room of the Universal Embassy of Dnnac Ledo. My office is down the hall.”
At a gesture from him, the guards at the door returned to a passive stance, but the door was still locked. Ponix had to perform many tasks to unlock it and most required proof of his elven nature, such as his hair color and ability to shapeshift, but some required obscure pieces of knowledge. The last one was a puzzle. Then the door hissed as the pressurized seal released and pulled away to reveal a magical membrane. Eric shivered when he passed through it.
The outside was plush with rugs, tapestries, sculptures, and amenities. It was only fitting to provide comfort for one's guests, but then he noticed a recurring artistic theme: the glory of the elven race. Their magical might and divine heritage was on full display; their technological brilliance celebrated, their defiance of Order and his authority proudly displayed. The elves Eric saw didn’t look glorious, brilliant, or proud.
They were napping on windowsills. They were playing games by themselves on scries or with each other on boards and with dice. They were engaged in pointless gossip. The presence of what he assumed to be their boss did nothing t
o change this. Ponix answered his question before he asked.
“You’re the first person to exit that room in a long time. Some of them have never seen anyone exit it. Even Kallen was flown by The Trickster himself. This place has become a community center because no one uses it but me.”
“What about the exports?”
“We have separate ‘non-living matter only’ teleports for that. It has far less security.”
“This is part of why Mom wanted me to study abroad.” Annala pointed to an elf throwing a ball against a wall while reciting synopses of her favorite series. “She didn’t want me to turn into one of these mushrooms. If she has her way, everyone in my generation will use this building for the purpose it was made for.”
At the door to Ponix’s office, two more elves stood on guard. Both of them were so engrossed in a storyteller-style game, they didn’t notice their boss and his two guests approaching. When they did, they simply moved away from the door.
The inside was clean. It was neat. It was not what Eric was expecting of the elf whose every sentence was disorganized. Even the machine Ponix used to create his visitor pass, which hadn’t been used in centuries, gleamed with fresh polish.
“I can’t have a pan-elf hologram conference in a pigsty. I take my diplomacy seriously.”
Around the Universal Embassy was a circle of trees. Their roots entangled with others above and below ground, making the terrain uneven. Branches twisted around each other and obstructed his view. Some held large seeds that resembled maces. Others were tipped like spears. Eric expected them to shout “none shall pass,” but instead, they waved or saluted Ponix.
“Are those there to keep visiting humans inside?”
“No,” Ponix said. “Their purpose is to keep hostile elves outside. No one living here can die, but our guests can.”
Eric turned around and walked backwards to look at the Embassy from the outside. It was a stone building three stories high. Each floor had a ring of four windows with the first possessing a fifth on the door. Gromece columns, shaped from the stone, framed the door and braced the roof. Runes were carved into them, but Eric could only guess what they meant. Overall, it looked like a fortress that was trying to look like a statehouse.
Mana Mutation Menace (Journey to Chaos Book 3) Page 39
