by Jack Bessie
“How much did you hate learning all this?”
“Probably more than you do...I got my butt paddled when I was slow or difficult!” she confessed. “Still, it is easier to learn as you grow up in the midst of it. The Eridians we’ve captured and kept...we trained all of them before turning them loose. It helps them feel comfortable living among us!”
“Do you keep an eye on those ones, to make sure they aren’t up to evil?”
“For a time. As they become enmeshed in their new life, marry and start families, we pay less attention to them. None have ever turned against us, and only a couple decided to leave, and return to the Eridians. They get spoiled here quickly!” she laughed.
“Perhaps that would be the key to converting to Eridians in mass...should they have trade with the Elvin...if they could attain things they like and need, they’d be less inclined to attack us! That’s certainly the way things were many times on Earth.”
“Of course...but they have to stop their war long enough to have any trade or commerce! Actually, there is trade of a limited nature going on. There are several merchants and traders that we allow to go back and forth to the Eridian lands, trading goods. They all spy, for both us and the Eridians!” she laughed.
“You know this, yet still permit it?!”
“Rasten! We are quite good at finding things out! We know more about the traders than they might know of themselves! Most are dubious and have flexible morals, willing to serve the one offering the most money. A couple have reason to hate us, and are watched more closely. We like them, as they are eager to carry word to the Eridians, that they think will help them against us. That makes them useful, should we wish to send false information to the enemy!”
Rasten had ventured out one evening alone, Amein being busy with other affairs, and he being eager to explore the city more. He had gone off to the nearest large market area, intending to find something sweet to nibble. The Elvin diet had proven quite rich seeming, but this was deceptive, as no one eating it would gain weight, their understanding of nutrition amazing. Rasten had been free to eat and snack at will, his intense workouts burning many calories each day. He was gaining muscle, and had lost all trace of fat, something that made the elf girls even more excited.
He stopped at a large stall, filled with fruits and candies, seeing several new ones he might sample. There were no Elvin present at the moment, it getting late, and a human woman was tending it. She was a bit stocky, and had jet black hair and eyes, and she smiled widely when she noted him looking at her.
“How might I help the Master?” she asked, stepping close.
“Tell me your story!” Rasten asked. This caused the woman to cringe and hang her head, shaking it slightly. Rasten reached out taking her chin in his hand and raised her face up to look at him. “You were born an Eridian, were you not?” he asked gently. She managed to nod, but still avoided speaking.
“I am Lord Rasten...I would know your tale! How came you to be here?” he insisted, smiling warmly, and wiping the tears from her eyes.
“My mate was captured by the Elvin many years ago...I was young and foolish...stubborn, and walked weeks to come here, determined to see if he had lived or died!”
“What did you find? The Elvin discovered you?”
“Of course they did! I could not speak other than my own words, and was easily spotted. They put me in a place where I could not escape, but treated me well. Eventually they put me with him, and offered to let us stay, and live as humans do here. We agreed, but my mate was never content. We fought much, and finally, he departed. I chose to stay, having no desire to return to our old way of life.”
“Did you find someone new?” Rasten asked. Here the woman beamed and slightly blushed.
“I found a man who was no Eridian, and am well pleased!”
“Have other Eridians stayed, becoming more pleased with life here?”
“I have several I’ve met, who seem well pleased. I wish all our people might be free of the war and the endless death. They have no idea how good life could be!”
When Rasten had a chance to speak with Amein, he recounted his discussion with the former Eridian.
“Of course...barbarians are always subverted by ease and nicer things. We have seen no peoples who would not like to have a better life, to possess things which are needful and make life easier. Most also like pretty things, especially females. Males like what pretty things do to make females more friendly!” Amein declared and laughed.
“So, if I gave you jewelry and other pretty things, you’d be even more willing?” Rasten wondered.
“I’m an elf...you can give me a rock or a priceless jewel, and I’ll be just as willing!” she admitted. “But most other races...that seems to matter more!” she laughed. “I’m spoiling you by being so easy, aren’t I?!” she demanded.
“Of course, and you have no idea how much I approve of that! By the time my day is over, there’s not much strength left, for having to struggle just to get some pussy!” he sighed.
Rasten had gone to his small study, to read, having found that the ability to read Elvin seemed to have come with his ability to speak the language. He was absorbed in his task, when the image in front of him seemed to vanish, being replaced by a view of a primitive looking village. He saw many people, whom he guessed to be Eridians, the men with huge beards and longish hair, and arrayed in leathers and furs. he noted a young woman, dressed much the same, and having a sword worn on a leather belt. She seemed quite rough and dire, but was, for all her dirt and markings stunningly beautiful, her long black hair full and hanging behind her back.
Rasten was holding his breath, spell bound, not wanting the strange image or vision to fade. He could see her speaking, but was unable to make out her words. She stopped, and scanned her surroundings, at one point seeming to be looking directly at him. He finally blinked, and the strange vision disappeared, to be replaced with the view in front of him.
He pushed himself up, and went quickly in search of Amein, eager to share this strange occurrence with her.
She sat quietly, as he explained in detail, and then asked several questions, before smiling slyly.
“It appears to be working!”
“What?” Rasten demanded, confused. Amein sighed, and looked amused.
“You have been given a...substance...in your food...it occurs in a plant which grows here. For those like father...for the seers, it unlocks their sight, allowing them to have visions. You must develop it more on your own, but once begun, you will never be free of such!”
“And you didn’t think to ask me if I would approve of this? Is it ever dangerous?”
“Not too much, but it will make a human sick or kill them if they ingest too much. But you are part Elvin, so it won’t do that!” she assured him, looking amazingly free of guilt. “There was no reason to ask, as you’d have said yes anyway!” she insisted. Rasten shook his head, knowing she was likely correct.
“So what was I seeing?”
“From what you describe, you saw Shocara, in her village. What I can not know is when you saw her, past present or future...” Amein sighed.
“This is what my father had?!” he asked, amazed.
“Precisely...inuarienium...the ability to see the spread of time and events! You will find it a remarkably useful gift, as he did. But beware its limitations; Sayarin never saw the time or manner of his death, and was thus unable to evade it!” Amein said softly, coming close to touch him. “If any doubted that you are your father’s son, this will put shut their doubts! It also reveals you as being a descendent of Amoroth...none other Elvin outside his line have ever possessed such gifts!” she sighed, clearly pleased.
“That makes me very special?” he wondered, bemused.
“Very...and even more special, you’re mine!” she insisted, and giggled.
28
After his first ride on a terranak with Amein, Rasten had been well lectured and instructed in how to guide and control one of the lar
ge creatures. He had been nervous, but was mostly resigned, knowing he was not willing to say no or to refuse to continue. His fist flight had been rather hard on his stomach, as he managed to accidentally turn his mount upside down more than once, but after not falling to his death, his confidence was much improved.
He quickly found flying on such a creature to be exhilarating, the freedom of movement astounding. He was allowed to free fly several sessions, to gain skill and confidence, before he began a serious study of the terranak, his instructors eager to teach him the ways of warfare that he might apply on such a mount.
As he progressed in his flying skills, he was made to also practice the use of the bow, having to hit stationary targets while flying first, and then getting to attempt hitting a moving target towed behind and below another bird. This made him less than pleased, but after many days of dogged effort, he became more proficient.
“Congratulations! You’re now no longer horridly unskilled, but merely terrible!” his instructor declared one afternoon, when they had landed. Rasten had merely grinned, having found his Elvin comrade’s humor to be infectious and much less wicked than it sometimes sounded. Even a ten year old elf girl could come up with a wickedly snippy comment effortlessly. The thing that mattered was that their incredible over-honesty was softened by their constant playfulness.
“I’m just eager to be as good as a ten year old elf!” he had responded, thinking to pre-empt more snide comments.
“You’ll need some extra work, if you want to get that good!” he had been teased. He wisely gave up and went on to his next lesson.
The next day, he returned to discover that he was going to learn how to fly with others, both as a formation, and for complex maneuvers. He had to sit through lectures on tactics, watching demonstrations done with small toy terranaks, and then had to go into the air, and attempt to replicate them, sometimes at ridiculously fast velocities. Passing over, under or beside others at such speed was nerve wracking, the danger of colliding real and constant. He had his hair brushed several times by a passing flyer, someone more skilled, eager to get as close as possible and avoided being hit by ducking or diving desperately more than once.
It did little to amuse him that he sometimes had Amein’s young nieces, Narimein and Leinien to fly against, they being well advanced and quite skilled, both eager to be able to say they had bested him. Amein had laughed fully when he grumbled about this one evening, having witnessed the young ones teasing Rasten delightedly at dinner, over something they had done to prove their mastery of him.
“I would advise you to pick a better fight! You will have a hard time catching them at this point! They have been flying for sport since they were barely six, and are as home on a terranak as you might feel walking on flat ground!” she laughed.
“What sort of sport involves such a beast?!” he demanded.
“They compete at racing...flying against others through obstacles, to gain the best time!”
“Isn’t that dangerous?” he wondered.
“Very...but considering that they will one day wield swords, and fight...you still find the idea of females doing such things to be wrong, don’t you?!” she demanded sharply. Rasten shrugged.
“I suppose I do. I was raised on a male dominated world, where men were once taught to protect and defend the women. Men may be expendable, as only women can have babies, and keep the race alive. I suppose it once had sound reason, from a biological point of view. It may be a long time before I’m past that...” he sighed.
“You sound like an Eridian...they treat their females as property, and seek to guard and defend them!” Amein insisted. Rasten looked away, sitting, deep in thought.
He finally looked at her and spoke.
“I think I find the whole idea of warfare to be terrible...to be a sign of failure, not something heroic. I know, there is evil, which must be battled. but wouldn’t it be so much better, if there was nothing but peace? It seems evil that good beings should die, to beat back those with no decency!”
“It perhaps is. But it is also necessary, and unavoidable. Rasten, without constant vigilance, and the will to fight, all would be slave to some other! There has always been evil, and I see no end in sight! All we can do is try to be as kind and honorable as we might, and defend as many as we are able, so as many may be free of the darkness as possible.”
Rasten had more cause to rethink his reluctance to see females fight, during his unarmed combat training. Being hesitant to fully engage several of the young Elvin females had gotten him battered and bruised fully, as well as tossed and knocked on his rear a number of times. Master Misari had given several of her young females good incentive to be as unrestrained and strong as they might against him, she having been advised as to Rasten’s weakness regarding females. This resulted in him being well abused as several of them took great delight in hammering him, to gain their instructor’s approval.
He finally decided he’d had enough, when one elf girl of barely fifteen had leaped, delivering three lightening fast kicks to his ribs, shoulder and head, before landing and felling him by sweeping his legs out from under him, as she delivered a fast strike to his chest with her elbow. The room had gotten dim from a creeping blackness, before he groaned and managed to force himself up. He felt angry and humiliated, having been so handily bested by such a young one.
Use your anger, don’t let it control you! he recalled the words of Master Roein coming to him from his own mind. This is like sword fighting...don’t think...observe and react!
Considering this, he slowly climbed to his feet. The young one who had just so effectively taken him down, stood watching, wondering if he would surrender.
“Try that again!” he suggested, noting Master Misari watching from the edge of the practice floor.
“As you wish...” the elf proclaimed, launching herself again, intending to repeat her easy victory. She was shocked to have Rasten step sideways, and counter her kick with a hard punch to her thigh. She landed awkwardly, and spun, grimacing from the pain in her muscles. She was met by a sweeping upkick, that caught her belly, doubling her over, and almost knocking the wind out of her. Before she could recover she was upended and dropped on her bottom by Rasten’s leg, sweeping her feet out from under her. The young one lay, gasping for breath, too shocked to move.
“Elerienda! Cidari! Elienia! At him!” the master called, curious to see what Rasten’s sudden display might portend. Rasten moved quickly away from the fallen elf, and tried to relax, seeing the three elves intent on circling him, and making him defend against all three at once. He wanted to keep one in front of him, and none directly behind himself, knowing if he could keep two able to be seen with a slight turning of his head, using his peripheral vision, he might stay aware of them all.
Rasten waited, letting the three elves decide what they might do, before he suddenly lunged at the one he was facing. Snapping his head first right and then left, showed him that the one behind and to the right was a bit hasty, moving to attack him from his blind side. Rasten stopped in mid stride, stepped back and spun, lashing out with a kick that caught the rear attacker hard in her crotch; she bent forward hastily, and was slammed from the side by Rasten’s foot, dropping her like a stone. The other one, seeing this hesitated, as the front elf moved forward to strike, and Rasten blocked the kick with his own flashing foot, before spinning, and almost leaping at the other one, who tried to duck, but was caught full on by the top of Rasten’s foot in her side. This one too went down, unable to breath.
The final elf had chosen to leap, intending to nail Rasten from behind, but he dropped, letting the Elf sail over his head. When she landed and spun, she was greeted by Rasten’s foot, which sent her sprawling. The silence was impressive, other than the groans of the three fallen elves. Master M walked over, giving Rasten a serious stare.
“Perhaps now you understand? You fight when you need to...not when you are in the mood, or desire to! You are moving to the next level!” she declared
, as though nothing special had occurred. The three defeated elves were helped up, and came to stand in front of the Master. “You three require more practice! And so do you!” she sternly insisted, speaking to the first one Rasten had beaten. “You fight like girls, not like warriors!” she declared, glancing at Rasten and grinning.
Rasten had been reluctant to speak about his session to Amein or any other, unable to shake the feeling that he had mostly beaten girls. Amein, who had been advised regarding Rasten’s sudden improvement, found his silence on the subject telling and cause for further lecturing.
“I hear you did well today! But you are ashamed of hurting mere girls?” Amein asked. Rasten sighed loudly, knowing where this conversation was headed.
“Yes I do. You can think that’s stupid all you want, but it’s how I feel! You can at least respect my feelings, even if they’re wrong by your standards!” he insisted petulantly. Amein got up, and stepped close, touching him.
“I do. But It’s also my place to give you the tools and understanding you’ll need to survive! You will face females wielding swords or other weapons, who have no thought, no desire other than to kill you! Being polite, being kind, caring for or being inclined to go easy on such a one will be the death of you! You feel terrible that you hurt the young elf girls today, don’t you?” she asked slyly. Rasten merely nodded.
“But Rasten, they are there because the wish to gain the skills necessary to battle wicked barbarians, and evil beings twice their size! If I had a coin for every bruise I had inflicted on me in training, I could buy half the planet! I had ribs and other bones broken too! You did them good, did them a favor, by handily beating their butts. The first one you fought thought she was a lot better than she is...which is why the Master is so pleased that you beat her over-confident butt! She will be well humbled, and learn better! I got my ass handed to me many times, before I became worthy of being called competent! See this?!” she asked, pulling up her sleeve, to display a hairline scar along the inner part of her upper arm. Rasten nodded.
