Elders of Eventyr

by Ellias Quinn

  “Of course,” Matil said.

  “Great,” Dask said. “I go next and Ansi gets last watch.”

  Ansi frowned at Dask. “Watch what?”

  “Keeping watch, you know? You’re a lookout. A guard.”

  “Guard?” he said. “I’m no guard.”

  “But you’re gonna help us keep watch tonight,” Dask said firmly. “Right?”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “Too bad, ‘cause you’ve fallen in with us. Everyone does their part, whether they’re a chief’s son or a normal alva.”

  Ansi rolled his eyes. “Tch. I will watch, then.”

  They all settled by the fire on their blankets, but Matil didn’t feel like going to sleep right away.

  “Does anyone have a story to tell?” she asked.

  “Let’s change things up.” Dask looked at the Eletsol. “You got a story, Ansi?”

  For a moment, he stared into the fire. “I do have one. It’s more history than story.”

  “That works,” Dask said.

  Ansi took a deep breath. “In the far past, there lived an Eletsol who conquered the clans and united Fainfal. His name was Emperor Ivu. He was not a merciful ruler, but he was powerful. Traditions that we take as timeless began in his time, with his commands. His reign lasted long and brought him wealth beyond imagining. Yet when he died, he left behind a spirit of disharmony. His chosen heir was weaker than he, and his sons fought between themselves for the throne. Not ten years after Ivu’s death, his empire had broken into warring clans once again. Since then, no other empire has been as mighty as Ivu’s.”

  The fire crackled in the following silence.

  “Is that it?” Dask said.

  “Yes. It was an important time in our history. Ivu is also the subject of much debate. He was ruthless and lived as a brigand, but he’s also seen as the perfect warrior and chief. Does he have a place among the elders in the treetops? Or not?”

  Khelya tilted her head. “Treetops?”

  “The Elders?” said Matil.

  “Ah, I’ve confused you,” Ansi said, smiling. “The treetops aren’t the tops of those trees,” he gestured upward, “but an after-death place. The great Elders, such as Dyndal, have ruled the treetops since their deaths. They are high chiefs over the lesser elders, our ancestors. And those who were chiefs, or those with the blood of chiefs in them, rule over the other ancestors. In this life, I…I try to honor both the Elders and my own deceased family, for they will judge me when I rise to the treetops.”

  “Do you believe in Thosten?” Matil said.

  He nodded. “He formed the world.”

  Matil glanced uncertainly at Khelya. “He also judges the dead, doesn’t he?”

  “Right,” Khelya said.

  “No, that is the realm of the great Elders and our ancestors,” Ansi said. “They decide whether someone becomes a lesser elder or whether they fall from the treetops in shame.”

  Khelya frowned at the fire. “The Chivishi says that since Thosten made us, he’s the only one who can judge us when we die.”

  “The Chivishi is not an Eletsol work,” Ansi said. “Though some clans in the far east of Fainfal dishonor the elders by holding to the Chivishi, and by believing that the Elders are merely asleep. They’re kept from visiting Dyndal’s tomb because of their dishonor.”

  “That’s terrible,” Khelya said in dismay.

  Dask put his hands behind his head with a yawn. “It’s all make-believe anyway.”

  “Make what believe?” said Ansi.

  “It’s just pretend. Bedtales. Baby stories, like you said yesterday.”

  “Ah.” He smoothed down his leaf wings before lying down. “Then what do you believe in?”

  “What do I believe in?” Dask laughed. “I guess I believe in…right here and right now.”

  “Here and now?” Ansi said. “I also believe in those.”

  Khelya nodded. “So do I.”

  “What we do right now matters,” Matil said quietly.

  “Well,” Dask yawned again, “looks like we all agree. Sleep tight, everyone.” He closed his eyes.

  Khelya scooted closer to Dask and whispered, “I’ll pray for you.” She grinned at Matil.

  He sat up, irritated. “Remember the last time you said that? I made breakfast for you. I actually did something instead of having a chat with the air. And I’m gonna do it again if you still don’t…”

  Matil and Khelya were both smiling now.

  “Giant,” Ansi proclaimed, “I give you my title. You are now Khelya the Smart.”

  “Really?” she said.

  Dask pointed at her. “No more free breakfast.”

  Chapter 7

  Borderline

  Matil, Khelya, Dask, and Ansi departed as soon as they were all awake. Ansi’s route led them north and then west, past ragged villages in the trees and on the ground, or built into tree trunks and burrows. Equally ragged Eletsol sometimes emerged from these villages to gather around Ansi and learn who the strange outsiders were. Ansi told Matil and the others not to do anything more to draw attention to themselves. The chiefs in this area of Fainfal were cutthroat, rarely holding power for longer than a year at a time. The turmoil resulted in constant fighting between many different families vying for control. Even the smallest disturbance could cause a skirmish to erupt.

  One time they rode past several scraggly children, all with hair down to their waists. Matil almost waved in greeting, but some women rushed up and herded the children back to their huts. A group of men buzzed down soon after, landed, and prowled past, carrying wickedly barbed spears, axes, and knives of wood and stone. Their hair was spiked up in ratty manes. Dask and Ansi gestured at Matil and Khelya to veer away from these sullen-eyed Eletsol.

  Later on, when they were alone again, Matil remembered that Ansi had lived in Vangara. She moved Dewdrop behind Olnar in order to talk with him. “What do the Nervoda believe about the Elders?” she asked.

  Ansi considered her question. “In Vangara, some believe in the Chivishi, but many more believe that the Elders and Thosten are still alive in some distant realm, ruling our world from there. Those Nervoda say the Elder Eset created their race.”

  “Eset, lady of water,” Khelya told Matil.

  “We talked about Elder stuff last night,” Dask said. “And the night before. Ansi, what about your girl? How do you know her if she’s in the other clan?”

  Ansi seemed to turn inward. “Her brother was a captain of the guard in our capital city. He attended the great feasts we held, sometimes with his family. At those feasts I saw her and became enchanted, but I, ah…never learned her name.”

  “You’ve thought of her for how long?” Khelya said. “Two years?”

  He cleared his throat. “Kal. Yes. I should have forgotten her a long time ago.”

  Dask whistled. “And you don’t even know her name.”

  “It never came up,” Ansi said defensively. “I was busy. I had to look after two sisters ready to tear each other to scraps.”

  Dask tipped his head from one side to the other as if weighing it out. “I’ll give you that.”

  “Yes, you will.” His expression softened. “Her family was loyal, and they didn’t leave with Dag and the Vima at the start of it. But they were not skilled in magic. Fridda drove them out, and all like them.”

  “What happened to them?” Matil said.

  “The Vima accepted the exiles. I’m glad that at least my alva had a place to go.”

  Ansi fell silent as everyone’s ears picked up harsh-throated yells and helpless screams somewhere in the forest. It sounded like many alva fighting. Khelya lowered her head fearfully.

  “The war-chiefs I spoke of,” Ansi said in a low voice. “They have no lines of highborn families to rule them, so…there is chaos.”

 
“You don’t need a ‘highborn’ family to keep things together,” Dask said. “I mean, sure, Nychtfal’s got it’s problems, but it’s doing fine without a king or a chief. No, something else is missing here. Can’t say I know what.”

  Matil looked toward the noises. Knotty trees and thick flower bushes concealed what lay beyond. “Can we help and…stop it somehow?”

  “Helping is a quick way to die,” Ansi said. “I don’t encourage it.”

  Dask nodded. “We have to keep going, Matil.”

  Though she knew they were right, leaving the terrified cries behind felt like stepping on her own heart.

  * * *

  The villages came less frequently, and then they disappeared altogether. Ansi again directed the group northward. As sunset approached, a long and powerful weasel slipped by them with a hiss. The beetles shied away from the lithe beast and scuttled off course.

  “Talrach,” Dask said. “The Kyndelin are great, you know that? Without their magic…”

  “We’d be weasel supper,” Khelya said.

  “I haven’t met a Kyndelin yet, besides the mouse-alva who stole from us.” Matil reined in Dewdrop and rode back up to Khelya. “Have any of you?”

  “Nope,” said Khelya.

  “I’ve met some,” Ansi said from behind Dask as Olnar returned to the group. “They are a cold-tempered sort of alva.”

  “Seems that way,” Dask said. “I’ve talked with two. The reason you don’t usually see them around for a chat is ‘cause they hate interference. They hate it so much they built a secret city away from the rest of the alva. Pretty uptight, huh?”

  Ansi shrugged. “I rather like the idea of a secret city.”

  “Oh, look!” Matil pointed ahead of them at a boulder sitting on a low hill. The boulder was splashed with weathered blue paint and nestled among weeds and wildflowers. Ansi had told them about these. “It’s one of the markers, right?”

  “It is,” Ansi said.

  Dask angled Olnar toward the boulder. “The Barrier’s just a few lengths past that rock, then.”

  “The Wall,” Khelya corrected. “Can’t believe it’s right there. I was always too scared to go near it when I had my farm down south.”

  “I don’t blame you.” Dask rubbed his arms and glanced around. “I can already feel it. The end of the world.”

  Matil fixed her eyes on the darkening forest that loomed beyond the boulder. It didn’t look any different from the wilderness around them, and the Wall was nowhere to be seen, but she knew what he meant. She remembered back to the first time she had been this close to Eventyr’s border, when they had seen – or thought they’d seen – Mr. Korsen. That time and now, she felt a heaviness engulf her. She sensed finality. The end of the world.

  Khelya climbed the hill, Matil, Dask, and Ansi following on the beetles. She stopped, leaned on the boulder, and untied her headband to smooth down her hair. They caught up to her.

  “Setting up camp is our next step, I guess,” Dask said.

  Matil slid off of Dewdrop’s back and stretched. “What happens if you keep walking? Do you hit the Wall?”

  “Barrier.” Dask eyed the trees and bushes just ahead. “You’d have to go there to find out. I sure as wasps don’t know. I don’t really want to know.”

  “Many young Eletsol go right up to the border, to Ilmasenna,” Ansi said. “I went with my sisters when I was a boy. It’s nothing to fear.”

  Khelya patted the two beetles absentmindedly. “Hear that, Dask? Nothing to fear.”

  “Not afraid,” Dask muttered.

  They tied Dewdrop and Olnar to a hardy root sticking out of the ground. Ansi fluttered to the top of the boulder.

  “Should we go over there together?” Matil said. “See what it’s like for ourselves?”

  “Well…” Dask squared his shoulders. “Okay. Let’s go. Ansi? You coming with?”

  “One visit is enough for most alva.” Ansi sat down. “Including me. But you go on.”

  The three of them went north from the boulder as night closed over the forest, hobbled by their own caution. Khelya lightly rested her right hand on Matil’s head as a guide.

  As Matil moved forward through the underbrush, her steps slowed. Some invisible presence was waiting. She reached out, expecting to walk straight into it, yet she wasn’t stopped. Everything simply continued to slow down. The forest’s sounds vanished and were replaced by strange, soft noises that Matil could barely grasp, even with her bat-like ears. First, a deep tone hummed. Then a high tone joined, sighing above its counterpart. It sounded like music, but a tune could not be pieced together from the snatches that Matil heard.

  Eventually, she wondered if she was moving at all. Then she saw the light. There, right in front of her, it flickered and flowed. It wasn’t like any light she’d seen. It had no color of its own, taking on aspects of its surroundings as it swirled through the air and played among the leaves. Matil’s outstretched hand met an uneven resistance, like strong wind silently pushing back. The light bloomed under her splayed fingers and then danced away. Her ears lowered in awe.

  She remembered her friends and turned to the right. As if he were her reflection, Dask stood with his hand against the light. He looked at her and in his wide-open expression she saw fear and wonder. She knew he was asking a question, because she was asking the same thing of herself.

  What is this?

  With no proper answer to give, Matil offered a small smile. The fear in Dask’s gaze abated. He looked up at the lights flying into the dark canopy of trees.

  Now she turned to her left, where Khelya had placed both hands on the unseen Wall. The Obrigi’s eyes darted back and forth, enthralled by the twisting lights. And then…her see-through figure became more solid. She became more herself. Matil watched and willed her to cast off the Ranycht illusion entirely, but the change stopped short. Khelya hadn’t noticed.

  A few minutes later, the three of them stumbled backward and took very deep breaths. The light vanished with distance, and the forest’s chirruping night sounds returned. A few lengths away, Ansi crouched by the boulder, struggling to start a fire.

  “Khelya, you…” Matil tried to say. Words didn’t want to come out of her throat.

  Khelya stared at the empty space where they had stood. “I swear…I felt like…”

  “Camp,” Dask said. “Let’s…make camp.”

  Matil and Khelya could only nod.

  * * *

  The house, built of twigs slightly elevated from the ground on wooden posts, was nestled between two slender tree trunks. A leafy herb garden thrived to the left and a rose bush formed a dark green background to the right, its pink buds adding splashes of brightness. Matil could see every feature of her home in breathtaking detail. She took a step forward and the dirt crunched softly beneath her feet. To her astonishment, she knew that she was dreaming.

  The knotty front door opened. There was Father with his deep brown beard and dark purple eyes. “What are you doing out here, little rose?”

  Mother walked up to the doorway from inside the house and stood beside Father. Bechel was in her arms, his own little arms reaching around her neck. Their eyes almost matched in color, though Mother’s were dusty red and Bechel’s sparkled like cherries.

  “Dinner won’t stay hot forever,” Mother said.

  “I’m honey,” Bechel added with great seriousness.

  She touched his nose. “You’re not honey, child, you’re ‘hungry’.”

  Father beckoned Matil toward the house. “Carrot, cabbage, and vole tonight, with Mother’s special brown bread. It might be the best food you’ve ever tasted.”

  Matil went nearer, drawn to her family but afraid that they would disappear if she came too close.

  Mother narrowed her eyes. “Did those boys hurt you again?” She nudged Father. “If their families won’t do
anything about it, you have to tell the magistrate.”

  Matil shook her head. “It’s…it’s okay. Nothing happened, Mother.” She finally made it onto the porch and closed the gap to her parents.

  Father put his hand on her right shoulder, and Mother laid a hand on the left. The pressure on Matil’s shoulders felt…real. She reached up and stroked Bechel’s soft brown hair.

  He blinked at her. “Hungry?”

  “I think so,” Matil whispered.

  “Then hurry up,” Father said. He pinched her arm lightly. “We’re waiting for you.”

  Even their love felt real. Maybe it was. Matil entered the comfortable, dim warmth of home, and the door shut behind them.

  Chapter 8

  Fighting Form

  Ansi stirred Matil and Dask out of their sleep, having taken last watch again. Khelya was harder to wake, and eventually Ansi bent a fluffy dandelion down with his magic to bounce against her head a few times.

  While the group dragged themselves around the camp, Matil thought about her dream. For a short time, she had been able to control herself within it. She felt like kicking herself for not trying to fly or even checking to see if she had wings. But at least she remembered the beginning, with her parents and brother. That wonderful beginning.

  After a while, Matil saw that no one else was speaking. The four of them sat eating sweet roasted hazelnut pieces in silence. “How did everyone sleep?” she asked.

  Khelya and Dask nodded and grunted.

  “I had excellent rest,” Ansi said. He scratched at the peeling white paint that still marked his face. “But one terrible dream. I dreamed that Fridda found me here and began to shout, louder and louder and louder…and then I awoke. I nearly feel glad about being exiled.” He kicked a pebble by his foot. “Nearly.”

  “What will you do after we find Korsen?” Dask said.

  Ansi leaned forward energetically. “Since we left, I’ve been wondering what to do and have now decided on action. I see why you alva keep watches. It is a great time to plan.”