Alfheim

by Erik Schubach

  She grabbed some Folkvangr vibro knives from a display rack that had weapons from all the races there, including... how did Jani smuggle a Valkyrie sidearm from Valhalla? She twirled on one foot like a dancer, letting loose the blades as she spun. Even I had to blink as the first one struck one of the carved wood columns which held up the high arching ceiling, then each successive blade hit the last, destroying the ones thrown prior. Her aim was so precise it bordered on the improbable as a heads up overlay in my vision displayed trajectory data more refined than my old cloak could provide, each plot laid over the other as if they were a single line.

  The queen hissed in distress, taking two quick steps forward, hand outstretched almost pleadingly. Jania finished beside the shelf with the harvester and shrugged. “And they do this because I am their friend. And I love that one there.” She jabbed a finger toward Samantha in her rage at her mother then froze, her mouth snapping shut, then she closed her eyes tightly as if she could turn back time.

  We all looked between the Queen, Jania, and Samantha at her most bashful, as she actually brought a lock of hair up to her mouth to chew on while she stared doe-eyed at Jani. Bruni and Essa hugged her with silly grins, whispering things to her which made her blush deepen.

  Our friend was suddenly blurting out at volume, her voice squeaky in an attempt to continue on, “Did you not want to see the latest pilfered items I brought for you mother, just to earn your favor? Here!”

  She pulled the pack off her shoulder, leaning her bow and quiver against the oversized, carved shelving unit. Then dumped her pack onto the shelf. Dozens of small to medium items clattered to the wood surface.

  Jania's slip of her tongue was momentarily forgotten as we gasped at the treasure trove of tech as first Queen Nerthus, then Breem rushed up to look at the items. Jani grabbed the vibro-arrow she had absconded with from me earlier that day and pulled it to her chest protectively and said when her mother reached for it, “I need this, in case things need to be poked or stabbed. It's pointy.”

  Breem sifted through the tech, as his Queen held something up, a questioning look on her face as a screen came to life on the healer's diagnostic pad. Jani sighed, and instead of explaining what she obviously knew, she said, “Kleshnie magic.”

  She turned to Breem who quickly changed his confused look to that of a scholar and nodded sagely. Nerthus picked up a simple laser pointer and pressed the little button on the side and a red dot appeared on Kalimish's forehead and the Queen dropped it like it would burn her.

  Jania's foot flashed out and she caught the pointer before it hit the floor, balancing it point down on her toe, then she flicked it into the air and caught it deftly, pressing the button and shining it on Breem's arm, smirking as he tried in vain to slap the dot away while our friend told them, “Kleshnie magic. Fire without heat.” She could barely keep a straight face when Breen again nodded his staunch agreement with her.

  They turned to Kalimish, who was fiddling with buttons on a device on a belt. My eyes widened in alarm as Dite gasped, and Jania carefully took the space fold jump pack from her brother. “Maybe we don't fiddle around with this. Better yet, since I don't think the All Mother should be floating around aimlessly in space, we should return it to the Olympians. I may have overshot a teensy weensy bit this time.” She handed it to me with two fingers, squinting.

  I asked in shock, “How?”

  She shrugged sheepishly. “I was bored while you all hashed out the details of the visit. There was a crate. With a biosignature lock. It was like you were daring me. I beat the lock and figured if it were that easy, then whatever was inside was for anyone. I left the other three. Just kept this one for safe keeping.”

  She gave me her wide Elf eyes, looking apologetic and vulnerable, and cute. Gah! How could you be mad at her? Wait. This was one of the four reserved for the Bolt of Zeus? May the Tree of Ages preserve us all. They were probably going crazy in Valhalla, trying to figure out how one got lost between Olympus and there.

  Jani sighed and scrubbed her face with a hand. “All we had to do was ask, mother. And speak with them, and you will find they are willing to share many things without conditions. They will not force their will upon our people.”

  She placed her hands on the shelf and started to pull herself up, but Kara took a step forward. “Jani, please don't sit there.” When our little thief looked over at her, cocking her head in question, Kara just smirked and said, “Just trust me on this, Elves and shelves do not mix.”

  What was she talking...? An information overlay bloomed in my right eye. We still had data feeds from Valhalla? Either the gateway was still open or Pegasus was providing realtime feeds through the whisker net. I had to cover my mouth and stop from snorting when a picture from ancient Earth history from the twentieth century came up. I willed the overlay to close before I lost it and started laughing. I really needed to have a long discussion with my Verr about timing.

  Jani sighed heavily and said as she relaxed a bit, “Just listen to what they have to say, mother, please?”

  Nerthus hesitated a bit then just inclined her head and said to the men after glancing first at Intark, then Inatra, then Brunie, “Breem, Master Story Teller, please bring our guests to the council chamber and instruct them on the Great Exodus while I converse with Sure Step. Kalimish, join them.”

  In unison, the two men bowed and said, “Yes, my Queen.” Then Jania's brother said, his hand motioning, “This way please.”

  Samantha hesitated, her eyes still not leaving Jania after her slip of the tongue. Aphrodite, curled an arm around the girl's waist as we stepped past. “Come on, sweetie. Let them talk.” Sam nodded dumbly and Dite pulled her head to her shoulder as she led the poor confused, happy, and love-struck girl away.

  Chapter 6 – Dökkálfar

  Before long, we all knew why Breem was their master Story Teller, as he held us all in rapt fascination while he told us a tale of pain and woe. A skilled bard, as I noted we were all leaning in and hanging on every word. He used his hands and inflection, as well as his facial expressions to share the plight of his people during the Ragnarok Andskoti occupation, then the power vacuum left when they abandoned Alfheim without a word, destroying all of the Ragnarok structures, leaving the Ljósálfar without the infrastructure they needed to survive their own world, as the only skills they had was tending to their masters and their machines.

  He went on, “Those were the dark years of The Suffering. But Queen the First, Shalanya, watching our people dying of starvation and sickness, stood tall when she said these words...”

  Two attendants who were filling our glasses with sweet tasting water as the story unfolded, mouthed the words with Kalimish as Breem spoke them, “No more! We will not fade into nature's embrace, stand tall, we are the Ljósálfar, and this is not the end of our story, it is but the beginning!” The man seemed to grow bigger as his chest puffed up with a pride we had not seen him possess before, his chin held high.

  Then he spread his hands wide, making a sweeping motion with his arms as he continued, “The years of The Suffering came to an end as Queen the First, Shalanya, had our people build farms, and plant grains, create pastures for livestock, all taking from the example of the Andskoti before their exodus.”

  He smiled hugely as he said as if he had wished to live in those times, “Under her guidance and indomitable spirit, we learned to farm, and hunt to feed our people. We learned to fight and make weapons so that we would never again be prey for any kleshnie. We prospered.”

  Breem's eyes glittered as he almost whispered in reverence, “And Shalanya... Queen the First... delivered us to the tree of all trees, and deemed it Allrbus. She said to her people...” The others mouthed the words with him, telling us of how their histories were passed on by oral tradition. “This shall be the home of the Ljósálfar. Here we shall build a city of no equal, we shall build up into the branches so that we can live amongst the stars in the sky. This new home, this city tree,
shall mark the rebirth of Aelfheimr itself!”

  He sat from where he was standing, arms outstretched to the high arching ceiling as if he could see the genesis of Allrbus in his eyes. He sighed and shrugged at us, meeting each of our eyes. “And so it came to pass. The first of the great City Trees bore witness to the resurgence of the Ljósálfar and prosperity for Elfkind. As our population grew, other ancient Tanalus Trees were sought out, and new cities grew up into their branches.”

  He looked at the other elves in the room and said simply, “Shalanya.”

  They all chimed out together, “Embraced back into nature, forever remembered. Queen the First, Mother of us all.” They bowed their heads, it seemed like it was some sort of holy utterance, like some of the Earth religions would say Amen or Alhamdulillah.

  He looked at us and shared with reverence, “Her body is entombed in the roots of this very City Tree, watching over us all in death as she did in life.” The look of earnestness showed he was trying to convey the weight of it to us, unsure if outsiders like us kleshnie could grasp it.

  Kara said with reverence, “I wish I had known her, but I missed the transition to Alfheim during her reign.”

  Breem blinked in confusion and Kalimish whispered in his ear, but I caught it. “These kleshnie live longer than the stars and the City Tree itself.” Now the Story Teller looked shocked, his eyes wide, but then they narrowed as he looked at us, believing it a lie.

  Essa supplied to him, indicating she had heard as well, or possibly my traitorous Verr relayed it through the nanite link I haven't figured out how to work yet. “It is true, mother here was born before the first Ljósálfar ever walked Alfheim. The Asgard were the ones to seed the many worlds with the code for life. In effect, you are our children.” She grinned in a silly manner, knowing she looked little more than a young adult to them but was older than any living Elf by thousands of years.

  Breem whispered, “Sacrilege.”

  Kara shook her head and said with a touch of patient compassion in her tone, “It is true. If we come to accord this day, you are welcome to view all the historical records.”

  Jania stepped into the room, looking harried and emotionally spent after her time alone with her mother as she said, “It would do no good, he cannot read your language. Only the prior Ambassador who yet lives in her golden years, and I, would be able to. Though the audio and visual records would work.”

  Samantha was standing, wringing her hands, the other Embers stood too, slightly in front of her in a protective manner. She started, “Jani? Did you mean what you...”

  Jania started babbling a mile a minute, cutting her off as she rubbed the back of her neck, “Did you get a load of the crazy woman in the other room, just jabbering on about all sorts of nonsense? She sort of looked like me but totally wasn't. Completely looney that one.” She cartwheeled up onto the table to land gracefully, in one fluid motion, in a sitting position on Intark's massive shoulder, her elbow on the top of his head, chin resting on her fist.

  She playfully batted away Intark's reaching hand as she got a little self-conscious, scratching the back of her neck as she added, “Unless of course, you feel the same.”

  We all turned like our necks were on swivels toward Sam, Dite squeaking in excitement. The Asgard woman looked as if she wanted to run and hide, her bashfulness on full display as she ground her heel on the floor and just nodded as she tugged on a lock of her hair.

  Jania's smile bloomed like a flower greeting the first rays of morning sun and glanced down at Intark, nudging her chin toward Sammie. The big man obliged and reached back to pluck the... well, the plucky Elf off his shoulder and deposited her on the polished wood and stone floor in front of the Three Embers.

  She said, “Oh... in that case, that other crazy Elf girl in the other room? That was totally me. I can tell because she was the best dressed in the room.” She struck a pose, but I could see the insecurity in her eyes.

  Brunie, tall for an Asgard, but even shorter than her Ragnarok mother, narrowed her eyes at Jania, judging her sincerity, then she and Essa nodded once in unison and stepped apart. Jani and Sam looked at each other then our Elf friend sighed and took a hesitant step up to her. Then she tentatively lifted the back of her hand to Samantha's cheek in the Asgard way, but Sam caught it and held Jania's palm against her cheek then kissed it.

  Then just like that, they were hugging desperately, causing Kara to blush and avert her eyes. She was such an old Asgard at times. Change comes slowly to those as old as her and I. Dite hugging my arm and snuggling into the crook of my neck and saying, “Daww!” was proof that change was the one constant in the universe. I laid my head on top of hers and sighed.

  Breem muttered, “Befriending a kleshnie, let alone announcing amorous intentions is against the laws of the land and is treasonous.”

  Jania's smile dropped and I saw more menace and malice in her expression than I saw in the people pummeling Intark with produce. “Then arrest me.”

  The man swallowed hard and looked to Kalimish for support, but Jani's twin was apparently fascinated with some sort of imaginary stain on his tunic as if he weren't aware of what was happening.

  Jania smiled and asked, “Who makes the laws?”

  Breem said slowly, “The royal family.”

  “Who can change the laws?”

  “The royal...”

  Jani looked smug and said, “Yes, the royal family. So as part of the royal family, I give myself special dispensation... nay, I rescind the laws about consorting with kleshnie who are not our enemies.”

  “But you never took the Flower Crown to become the crowned princess of the...”

  She snapped out in challenge, “Then go get the damned Crown... and a lot of things are going to change if you think you can keep me from Samantha of the Asgard.”

  The man just stood there, paralyzed in indecision. Then Jania smirked at him, did a little dance move with Samantha, and somehow wound up sitting in a seat with Sam on her lap. “The All Mother will be in presently. You might want to finish the story before she comes in, she has a buzz fly in her hood and obviously has something planned before she will discuss an accord with these upstanding people. I'm sure she has ulterior motives in having you share this story, so you best not disappoint She Who Lived.”

  Then she bit into a fruit that smelled vaguely of Earth apples and Ragnarok tart maldoons, causing Inatra to look at her own hand and blurt out, “Hey, you sneak! That was mine! How did you even...? You were never close to me.”

  Jani winked at the confounded Ragnarok woman, pure mischief in her eyes. She held the fruit up in front of Sam, who shot her aunt an apologetic look then closed her eyes to savor the taste of the fruit when she took a bite.

  Breem just huffed, then looked around, patting his clothing. Jania tossed him the pin he had been wearing earlier, which I assumed was the symbol of his position. He growled as he caught it and attached it to his tunic again. He shot her an annoyed look then cleared his throat, taking on the bearing of a bard again.

  He said in low tones, “It was in the early years of the construction of Allrbus, after the planting of the first crops and construction of the livestock corrals that the cost of the power vacuum left by the Andskoti reared up like a plight on our people.”

  He swept a hand slowly in front of him, palm up as if inviting us to see what his words painted. “There have always been stories, from before our enslavement by the visitors from the stars, that we Ljósálfar were not alone on Alfheimr. That others lived in the shadows, and even that at one time they lived among us, shunning the daylight, but walking among us in the night.”

  The man looked almost apologetic as he said, “These others, these Dark Elves, the Dökkálfar, were thought to be only rumors, bedtime stories. Stone weapons and dishes have been found in caves, Elflike remains found in subterranean chambers, or dug up when fields were plowed. But no records survived the occupation, and all the Story Tellers and educat
ors were culled in the first days of the occupation.”

  He sighed and sat, and shrugged as he offered, “Some say the Dökkálfar were driven underground by the Andskoti pacification forces, to the massive subterranean cavern system which was carved out by lava tubes in the days before life was young on Alfheimr. The metals in the cave walls, which the invaders had dubbed Vetricite, stopped their machines and evil magic from finding the Dark Elves. There was no proof of course, and the pacification forces never found these ghosts of the imagination. How can one prove the existence of fairy tales?”

  He hung his head and shook it slowly as he went on. “Or so we believed. It seems these fabled creatures were indeed real, and just biding their time, down in the darkness, waiting for their chance to attack.”

  He stood and made an almost pleading gesture with his hands, grief in his tone as he strode quickly from one side of the table and back as he said in a louder voice, “And strike they did, these Dökkálfar boiled up from the hell they live in, down where the sun cannot touch them, and they swept through our farms, our stables, our pastures and they slaughtered our farmers and their families without provocation.”

  He hissed, a look of disdain painting his features as he flopped back into his chair, arms dangling limply at his sides like he was defeated. “These Dökkálfar were not what was rumored, they were not anything like us, and did not walk among us. They attacked every night when the sun cannot harm them. They were demons, not Elves, and they spoke in a demonic tongue that none of our educators can make sense of.”