Transcending Limitations

by Brian Wilkerson

  Nunnal grabbed the hand of her husband on her right and her sister on her left. They did likewise with other relatives. Eric ended up joined to Annala on his right and Kallen on his left. All of them except him intoned a chaotic prayer. He made a note to ask Annala about it later. Then the meal began in earnest.

  “Alexis dear, is there anyone special in your life right now?” Mildred asked.

  Alexis finished dressing her latest pancake. “My social life is the same as when you asked last year and the year before that and the year before that and—”

  “I just want you to find someone to be happy with,” Mildred took a bit of bacon, “like your sister and niece and cousins.”

  Alexis squirted her bottles in her grandmother’s face. Two streams of green and blue collided with her eyes, nose, and cheeks. She wiped it off and scowled.

  “That’s what happens when you don’t pay attention.” Alexis shifted her hair to better show off the flower placed behind her ear. “If you were paying attention, then you’d know that I don’t need your help to find a nice guy.”

  “Who is it?”

  “If I tell you, you’ll meddle.”

  “My Eternal Hobby is matchmaking,” Mildred said. “What if I found a threat to the village, but I refused to tell you about it because of your meddling?”

  “You eavesdropped on Nunnal’s dates with Ponix, contrived ‘cute’ accidents, and convinced Sister Loeths to drop by for ‘subtle’ hints.”

  “And now they’re happily married with twins.”

  Alexis face palmed. “Sister?”

  Nunnal plopped a sausage into her mouth to buy herself time. She swallowed and said, “Sometimes success is achieved despite the best efforts to make it so.”

  Mildred frowned. “Grandson-in-law?”

  Ponix looked up from his Lubic Sphere. “Huh? What are we talking about?”

  “Felix’s latest tunneling project,” Alexis injected.

  “Oh, that! Yes, it’s a big deal among the dwarves. I remember them saying that if he dug any deeper, they would toss him into the planet’s core.”

  Felix sent a sour look to his sister, who grinned. “My amphitheater is popular with the younger generation. They bring dates. Maybe you should bring your mysterious boyfriend.”

  SPLAT!

  A pancake slapped against the top of his head and its butter and syrup smeared on his goggle lens. The toddler floating behind him giggled and flew off. One of her three parents grabbed her out of the air with extended arms and placed her with her siblings.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said. “We’re outnumbered 3-1, so it’s hard to keep track of them all.”

  “How did you get so many?” Eric asked. “Triple triplets within one immediate family is extraordinarily unlikely.”

  “The blessing of Lady Chaos,” he said while trying to keep the girl from poking two of her brothers in the eyes, who were trying to pull her hair out and kicking each other.

  “Did you give birth to those three?”

  “No,” he said. “Mine are those three over there.”

  He jerked his head toward the spider-elves hanging from the ceiling. One of his wives was trying to get them down by shooting her own spider threads from her hands. They dodged and up-chucked green slime in return.

  “Is that a common thing?”

  “Not anymore.” He gave each of his kids a strip of bacon and this pacified them. “It was a matter of course after the war.”

  In an elven context, “the war” could only mean the Conversion War. It was a worldwide conflict between humans, elves, and demons, and lasted for hundreds of years in different phases and locations. It was broad and diverse in causes and influences, but the most inciting factor was the belief that each side wanted to turn the other into itself; elves into mortals and humans and beastfolk into elves. In other words, extermination, and it almost happened. To this day, everyone’s population still hadn’t reached pre-war levels. The elves suffered fewer causalities, but this number was a higher percentage of their total population than the humans and beastfolk.

  Ever since, the mortal and immortal races lived as if in separate worlds. The elves inside their hidden villages, independent of everything outside, and the mortals pretending those villages didn’t exist. Over time, they tentatively reached out to each other, but it was sparse and highly regulated. The recent Mana Mutation Summit was the first political event to be hosted by Dnnac Ledo since the war. It ended with the village joining with other nations to combat Mana Mutation together, in return for the release of elven slaves like Annala.

  The collar on her neck was the stuff of nightmares to elves. An eternity of magical enslavement and spiritual domination was worse than death to creatures of chaos. Not a second went by where at least one of Annala’s relatives wasn’t looking at it from their corner of their eye.

  When all were stuffed and happy, the gift exchange began. There were even some for Eric, to his surprise and delight. Then his mood dampened when he realized they were all Dengel-related. It dried up when he realized everyone received similarly lame gifts. Alexis gave Felix gloves shaped like mole claws, Ponix gave Ferdinand a toupee, and Mildred gave Hana, Duo, and Set nine butterfly nets. Annala was wary of opening Forge’s gift, especially when her twin refused to open it himself.

  “It’s just for you to see; you and Eric.”

  A lovely blush immediately colored her cheeks and she resolved not to open it after all. Forge laughed and pulled the top off to reveal a perfectly innocent glass statue.

  “What did you think it was?” he asked slyly.

  “Oh...You...Grrr!”

  “Better luck next time, Annala.”

  Puffed up in anger, she handed him a gift from herself. He demonstrated similar caution. Finding nothing suspicious, he opened it. Inside was a single strip of paper stating “Congratulations on staying a virgin.”

  “Well played, little sister.”

  Eric sheepishly passed his gift to Annala. “It’s not a gag gift, but I think you’ll like it.”

  Annala accepted it and said many words of thanks and humility to her master. This led to everyone in her family sending mean looks at him and he sensed their killing intent despite their attempts to hide it. Ignorant of this, Annala carefully removed the wrapping paper. Inside was a book entitled Everything and Nothing: the definitive collection of aestheticism vs materialism, tenth edition. The girl held the book to her chest and sighed dreamily.

  “It’s fascinating to see the different arguments clash across cultural and temporal boundaries, then compare and contrast their evolution in interpretation and emphasis by—”

  “Someone, please start the sincere gifts before she really gets going,” Forge said.

  While the exchange took place, Annala explained the process for her master’s benefit. Gag gifts followed by sincere gifts were a tradition in imitation of Tasio’s gift to Arin. It fused the benevolence of The Trickster with his mischief. Forge’s gift to Annala was the same book Eric had given her. He even kept the receipt in case she didn’t like it. Nunnal gave Ponix a new puzzle book, Felix gave Alexis the latest card game invented by humans, Mildred gave Nunnal a box of sweets she favored, and the nine rugrats gave their parents handmade drawings in paint and crayon. Once all the gifts, both mischievous and sincere, were exchanged, one of Annala’s relatives said, “Okay, cleanup time, everyone.” His hair was styled in a cone shape and he wore entirely green clothing. “Give all the trash to me. They’re part of my Renewal of Chaos workshop.”

  He walked from person to person with a big brown bag. A circling script from its top to its bottom wrote out in green letters “All is mana and mana cycles.” His relatives stuffed in their wrappers, bows, and ribbons one by one, but when he came to the nine siblings, they tripped him and stole the bag. Then they ran laughing out of the room and their parents gave chase.

  “Give that back to your Cousin Harry!”

  In the silence that followed, the extended Enaz family fin
ished cleanup and talked about their own workshops. The Four Schools of Arin were the next phase of the festival.

  There were four trades that were considered sacred because Arin practiced them: Healing, traveling, fighting, and chaotic philosophy. During her festival, elves created workshops based on them. The way they talked about it, Eric thought it was like a priest doing something sacramental.

  “Do you have one?” he asked Annala.

  “I was planning to do one about my stay in Roalt, Master Eric, but I’m not going to.”

  He was standing in place while she did his share of the cleanup for both the gift exchange and the breakfast banquet. She insisted that it was beneath him to engage in such tasks and that they were ideally suited for slaves such as herself.

  “Why not?”

  “Staying by your side and attending to your needs is more important.”

  It was unfortunate, Eric thought, that it was impossible to get her collar off before the end of the festival. It simply wouldn’t work at any time other than the very end, and no one would tolerate changing the pattern. Meza would shout that it was Order subverting their traditions, and he wouldn’t be the only one. Next year, I’ll see it.

  “Then my wish is to tour the festival with you.”

  “As you wish, Master Eric.”

  Outside the Enaz home, spring had come early. The frozen ground was lush with grass and flowers filled the empty air with their scent. Barren trees had become leafy canopies, providing shade from the winter sun. Eric tapped the trunks, smelled the flowers, and ran his hand through the grass; it was no illusion.

  “Can they really...”

  “It’s just for today,” Kallen said. “Not even elves can keep up magic of this degree longer than that. Tomorrow, they’ll move everything to a greenhouse and winter will close back in.”

  Eric offered his arm to Annala and she stood close to him for warmth. Kallen stood on her other side and the three walked to the village square.

  There, they saw that the stage was fully decorated with flowers, ribbons, and wreaths. Game booths ringed it with equipment that was all set up. Food booths waited for the evening when they would start up. On platforms and on raised stages throughout the village, elves taught one of the Four Schools of Arin.

  There were elves that demonstrated healing with magecraft, herbal medicine, bone setting, and acupuncture. There were elves performing martial arts of many styles: armed and unarmed, hard and soft, magical and mundane, and several that required shapeshifting. Others stood at the center of a circle and preached lessons inspired by the Elven Tome. Finally, there were travel experts with their maps and advice.

  Felix gave one about traveling underground. Since elves prefer flying in the open sky, few attended (taking pity on him). Ponix spoke about the lands he visited as an ambassador and the people who lived there. Alexis’ platform was a traditional self-defense class. Quando was trying to recruit for the Dragon’s Lair with a wine, adventure, and song angle.

  “It’s just like what Arin and Belco used to do,” he said, “except you’ll get paid for it.”

  The couple made sure to stop by Nunnal’s booth because hers featured Medical Mana Mutation. The results of the previous summit were written large on the sign above her and videos of the summit displayed on crystal screens to either side of her. At the center, a creature was zapped repeatedly with a miniature Lance of Ciaphas.

  “Thanks to the cooperation between elves and non-elves,” she declared, “mana mutation will soon be regarded as the common cold of magical maladies!”

  Surely it is no coincidence that Sagart set up her workshop next door.

  Sister Sagart was a short and pudgy woman. Her floor-length hair was loose and pooled about her like a weeping willow. Within its locks was a face that possessed both a look of youth and a sense of age. She wore a loose white habit trimmed in gold at the edges. On her wrists and ankles were golden bangles, and in her ears were gold rings. Around her neck was a “paidrin,” a beaded necklace bearing the Flower of Chaos as a centerpiece.

  “How shall we conceive the Sea of Chaos?” she asked her audience. “We shall begin with this.” She shapeshifted one finger on her right hand. “A mustard seed, except it’s not this but a crowbar.” She shifted her second finger. “Except it’s not this either but a clown face.” Her third finger shifted. “Neither is this true and this is not true either.” Her fourth finger became a rubber band and her fifth became a banana. “None of these are correct.”

  She clenched her hand and all the figures merged with each other. A golden-brown haze was born from the fusion and hung around her fist, distorting its appearance. Then, from within this mist came a figure so bizarre, it baffled description.

  “This is closer than any of them, but it is still not correct.”

  She raised the mutant hand, praised Lady Chaos, and a pulse of golden-brown light radiated to the boundaries of her platform, and slightly beyond to reach Eric and Annala. It filled their bodies with energy, their minds with imagination, and their souls with zeal. None were more aroused than Eric, whose grendel nature stirred within his human memories. His pupils slit and he crouched.

  “That is the Sea of Chaos,” Sister Sagart declared. “We feel it in our souls. We cannot see it and we cannot conceive it. It is by faith, not by sight, that we make contact with Lady Chaos.”

  Reality twisted behind her and a figure appeared. It was heads and shoulders taller than her and loomed taller still because his feet floated above the ground. He possessed shorter chaotic hair but the same pointed ears. For the festival, he was garbed in a red and purple medieval tunic and tights with gold highlights

  “You could also swing by my shrine and give me a hug.”

  Without turning her back, the chaotic priestess said, “Yes, that too.” She then grew two arms out of her back and hugged Tasio with them. “Chaos be with you, Trickster.”

  “And also with you, Sister.”

  “Chaos be with you, Trickster’s Choice.”

  Eric, in full grendel form, parted the crowd on his way to the platform. There he stepped up and performed Arin’s Triangle; touching his forehead with his right hand and placing it chest level, repeating the gesture with his left hand and then joining the two together. “And also with you, Sister.”

  “Eric, if you don’t mind, please share your experience with shapeshifting. Every year I explain the theological angle and I believe everyone here will appreciate your secular view.”

  “Hmm…”

  Hand to chin, head bowed, and pacing, Eric gave the elves a rare sight, a grendel pondering philosophy.

  “The key to shapeshifting is in two parts: 1.) Know thy self and 2.) Know thy grandmother,” Eric said. “If you know what you are, then you know what you are not.”

  He shifted into human form.

  “If you know your grandmother, then you know her power and her promise to help you achieve what you are not. This will unlock the prison of the body and…”

  He shifted into an elf.

  “Allow you to fully express your true selves.”

  As a grendel, he spoke again. “This is who I am. This is my identity. However, I also possess a human identity. My understanding allows me to shapeshift between the forms because they are both ‘me.’ I did this without a Seed of Chaos. My own power enabled it, but who is Lady Chaos if not the source of all power?”

  He returned to human form but left his eyes in their grendel state. Then he shifted his right arm back into a grendel’s and lifted it with his human body.

  “Even with a Seed of Chaos, I could not freely shapeshift. This is because I did not know my grandmother. I knew myself and so my will allowed me to be myself. As a chaotic being, I am many things and so I could become many things.”

  He shifted his left arm into a grendel’s and then his head into an elf’s.

  “Blessed are the elves, for they may truly be anything and anyone they wish.”

  The chaotic priestess clapped. �
��Well done. You have a remarkable understanding of chaotic philosophy.”

  “For a human, at least.”

  The crowd parted to reveal Ralm and Nilo. The latter’s arms were interlocked with the former’s and she leaned affectionately into him. Annala, by contrast, stayed a respectable distance away from Eric.

  “I imagine he’s just repeating what Annala told him,” Ralm continued.

  “I’m not a human, I’m a grendel.”

  “That’s even more impressive! urk!”

  A strand of Sister Sagart’s hair whipped around his neck and lifted him off the ground. He flailed in the air and this concerned no one but Eric. Even Nilo was more annoyed that she couldn’t nestle anymore rather than worry for her boyfriend’s safety. After ten or so seconds, Sagart dropped him.

  “You flaunt your ignorance, child.” The voice of the priestess was cold. “One of the greatest theologians ever produced by the Church of Chaos is human.”

  Ralm’s Seed of Chaos erased the bruises on his neck before she finished speaking. All that remained was a minor stinging sensation.

  “Seriously?! A temp outdid us in our own field?”

  “Father Omnias Cyfanswm Insgesamt studied at the feet of Arin herself and has always been recognized as one of her best students. My education included many of his written works and my acolyte travels included many pilgrimages to sites dedicated to him. His devotion to the faith is so pure and so strong that he remains with us today.”

  “A temp that’s not a temp anymore? But he’s not an elf either?” Ralm asked.

  “He is immortal and, biologically, he is human, but in terms of his culture and spirituality, I would say he is more ‘elf’ than many elves.”

  “Then he must be here at the most important of elven holidays! Where is he?!”

  Sagart shook her head sadly. “He’s not here. Though he is welcome in all elven villages, he is far too busy for our holidays. He’s been working on one plan in particular for a long time now, and I’ve heard recent events have allowed him to reach the next stage.”