“Who?” I asked.
“AMBROS!” an unfamiliar voice rang out within the large warehouse, and a figure in black silk clothing appeared sitting on the black chest. His facial features were definitely elvish; he had almond shaped eyes, thin lips, and pointy ears, but his skin wasn’t like Kieran and Kelena’s. His skin was the color of ash. He was a Dark Elf.
Knocking on the chest he was sitting on, he said, “It seems I’ve arrived just in time.” Standing a slim five and half feet tall, he walked over to us.
“May I present to you, Ambros of Ashwood,” Vistilia announced, and the elf bowed his head.
A Woodland Elf wearing a black silk dress appeared nearby, and Vistilia introduced her. “And Sylvia of Magestice.”
Stepping toward her with open arms, Ambros said, “My dear Vistilia, haven’t you grown tired yet of this game?”
With a laugh and a hug, she said, “I’m proud of you, Ambros. You’ve figured it out. But to answer your question, I’m actually thinking of becoming more involved.”
“Don’t you think you should be a bit easier on them?” he asked. “They live such short, painful lives.”
“There’s still much for you to learn,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. She then turned to the Woodland Elf who accompanied him. “Sylvia, darling, how have you been?” she asked, hugging her lightly.
“Very well, thank you. It feels good to be home,” she said with a beaming smile.
“Oh, I bet it does,” Vistilia agreed. “You’ve had quite a trip.”
“Yes, we have. We traveled to many neighboring worlds and have learned so much.”
Ambros released a sudden gasp of amazement. “My swords,” he said, lifting them from the water. Finally noticing the water we all were standing in from the melted permafrost, Ambros lifted his foot and shook water from it. “Let’s get this mess cleaned up, shall we?” With a wave of his hand, the water gathered to the middle of the warehouse floor, and rose up to freeze in the shape of an apple tree.
In awe of the creation, Seraphine and I reached up and felt of the cold, glass-like fruit. “It’s beautiful,” she commented aloud.
I picked up the gauntlet from the floor to examine it. Kieran and Kelena were somehow pulled within the glowing blue gem set into the palm.
“Pop’s old gauntlet,” Ambros said. “I had almost forgotten about it.”
“What did he use it for?” Seraphine asked him.
“He made it to absorb the life force of the Earth from the magma that often bubbled its way to the surface in Ashwood. It drained heat so that magma would quickly cool, keeping holes from erupting and destroying the city.”
“Is there a way to release the energy?” I asked. “It was used on me and my friends.”
Noticeably shocked, Ambros asked that I repeat what I just told him. “It was used on you?”
Nodding, I held the magical gauntlet out for him to take. He extended his hand, and the gauntlet flew to it, slipping into place. Opening and closing his fingers, Ambros looked into the blue gem.
“The power taken from you has already been spent,” Ambros explained.
“What about my friends?”
“They’ll be quite all right,” he assured me. “You’ll see them again, soon enough.” Returning to the black chest to sit down, he smiled at Manius and said, “I’d like to tell you a little tale first.”
ACT II
2171 BC
CHAPTER II
THE ELVES OF LYLANDRIA
“Ambros,” a sweet voice whispered to me. “Ambros,” the voice called louder. I reached over, but she wasn’t lying next to me. “Ambros,” I heard even louder as my bed shook.
“I’m awake,” I finally answered, my voice sounding thick and gravely. Rubbing my eyes, my vision began adjusting to the darkness that surrounded me and the tiny beams of light that penetrated the enveloping cocoon of plants where I slept.
“You missed the sunrise again,” she told me from outside.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized with a yawn. “You know I’m not a morning person. What day is it?”
“Today is . . . beautiful,” she answered.
Her happiness brought a tired laugh from me. “Give me a moment, and I’ll be out.”
“All right but hurry up,” she answered.
I clothed myself in a magical material similar to silk using a spell I had learned soon after arriving. Unlike my people, the Light Elves took nothing from animals, so the skins I wore when I arrived were burned and the ashes buried.
The vines that surrounded me divided, and I climbed out of bed to a bright, sunny day in the magnificent city of Lylandria. The fresh morning breeze carried the sweet smell of the countless flowers and fruit trees that filled the city.
“Good morning, Ambros,” my mate greeted me with a kiss. Standing a couple inches taller than me, she wore a simple white and gold dress.
“Mmm, and a delightful morning to you, Jinxie,” I responded.
Our home was a platform built in a large oak tree. Vines that grew at the base of the tree spiraled up to create a staircase to the platform. Vines also formed the bed where she and I slept. The others of Lylandria lived in borrows scattered throughout the city.
“I know you don’t care to hear him preach, but if we hurry, we may get to the grove in time for some of today’s lesson,” Jinxie told me.
“Should I bring soap to this brainwashing, or will soap be provided?”
“You don’t have to pay attention, just sit with me.”
Agreeing to go with her, she took hold of my hand and led me down the narrow staircase to the mossy ground where we ran barefoot along paths surrounded by dew-covered flowers. Butterflies and fairies scattered to avoid us. The fairies here were similar to the Dark Fairies of Ashwood, only they had fairer skin and brightly colored wings.
As one would imagine, the difference between Dark Elves and Light Elves was like comparing night and day. Where I had greyish skin, white hair, and sickly looking, yellow eyes, Jinxie had light skin, hair the color of orange daylilies, and bright green eyes. My people directed their magical abilities toward the dark arts of war and death where the Light Elves focused on life, beauty, and understanding the world around them. They could quickly change their hair and eye color. They also, on average, grew taller than Dark Elves.
We ran to a grove of fruit trees where many elves were gathered in a beam of sunlight discussing life.
Disappointedly, Jinxie said, “It looks like we’ve missed him.”
I snapped my fingers sarcastically, glad that I wouldn’t have to listen to the city guardian.
Jinxie picked an apple to eat.
“I believe I’ll have a pear this morning,” I told her as I walked over to the next tree.
The Light Elves could grow any plant they desired here in Lylandria. Through the use of magic, they kept it warmer than the surrounding region. And through magic, every plant bloomed all year long.
“There’s Ambros,” I heard one of the young elves say. I took a bite of my pear and sat on the moss-covered ground near the group. Jinxie sat next to me with her apple.
“So, what are we discussing today?” I asked the two dozen elves that were there.
“Why are we here,” Elyon answered. He was the oldest elf present other than me. He had long, fiery red hair tied back into a ponytail.
“I don’t know. You all were here before I was even awake,” I answered, thinking he was asking me, not answering my question.
“No. I mean, that’s what we are discussing,” he clarified. “We are discussing why we are alive.”
“And why are we alive?” I asked.
“The universe perceives itself through us,” the violet-haired elf named Aashna explained. “We do not just live within it; we are the central part of it, and the dragons protect us because we are so special.”
“Interesting view, but I don’t think it’s quite accurate,” I said of their theory. “I mean, you could be right, but how much of th
e universe have you actually seen?” I asked without receiving an answer. “How much have you seen outside of this paradise?”
There was a long silence before Elyon asked, “What is the world like outside Lylandria?”
With everyone’s attention on me, I answered, “Well, it’s cold, harsh, and dangerous. It’s not a place you should be out traveling by yourself.”
“Tell us the story of when you faced the trolls,” an elf boy requested.
Taking a bite of my pear, I began, “A few months ago…”
“Years,” Jinxie corrected me with a laugh while chewing a bite of apple. “You’re terrible at keeping up with time.”
“Months make years,” I defended my wordage with a smile.
“Yeah, many, many months. You’ve been here one hundred and fifty years.”
Surprised, I asked, “Has it been that long already?”
“Yes. I told you, you’re terrible with time.”
“What about the trolls?” several of the boys interrupted, anxious to hear the story that I had told many times before.
“Well, there we were,” I continued, thinking back a century and a half. “Goat and I had already been traveling for weeks when we began crossing rugged mountain terrain. As we climbed down sharp cliffs, Rock Trolls ambushed us from the mountain crevasses! Standing eight feet tall,” I described them, standing up and hunching my shoulders. “They were hulking beasts with thick, grey hides that blended perfectly with the mountain.” I reached down and scooped up a clump of moss to sit on my shoulder. “Even moss and weeds grew on them, helping their camouflage.”
Looking around, I saw that everyone was completely engrossed in my story.
“What happened next?” one of them asked.
“Very few know this about trolls because very few survive an encounter with one, but trolls love snacking on goats.”
Gasps came from my listeners.
“Goat was quickly snatched up by one of the trolls and others rushed to fight over him. They ripped him apart before realizing he was only a rotten corpse. By this time, I had climbed farther down the mountain and out of their sight. I hated to leave my pet behind, but I was much too little to fight back. I, too, would have perished if I had not fled while Goat had them preoccupied. He had been carrying most of my supplies, so I lost everything that he carried. Days later, I finally reached Lylandria’s warm borders with only the animal skins I wore and the two swords on my back.”
“Where are they, now?” Elyon asked.
“Trolls don’t live as long as elves,” I answered. “I assume they died years ago.”
“No. Where are your swords?”
“Oh, I keep Scourge and Devour under my bed.”
“Why did you name your swords?” several elves questioned in unison.
“I didn’t name them; my father did.”
“Why didn’t he come to Lylandria with you?”
Staring off for a moment, remembering his body being carried out of Ashwood rolled in a quilt, I answered, “He told me his journey lies along a different path,” and I left it at that.
“How did you bring Goat back to life?” I was asked by a green-haired elf that we called Banks. “How do you recover a spirit from the Sun and give it flesh?”
“I haven’t found a way to reunite the body with its spirit,” I answered. “But there are many ways to raise the dead. With Goat, I woke him with a command directed to a specific region deep within his decomposing brain. I’ve also brought a hare back to life with lightning, but I wouldn’t advise doing that,” I told them with a laugh.
“Why not?” they all asked together.
“A bolt of lightning is a bit much for such a small creature,” I began to explain. “And can a hare still be called a hare with no legs and no hair?”
Everyone laughed.
I took Jinxie’s hand to help her stand. My audience clapped and thanked me for the entertaining story. I bowed to them graciously before leaving.
Jinxie and I ran hand in hand through the city to pick a handful of strawberries. She then led me away from the others to a cave within a large growth of honeysuckle vines created by elf children. Inside the light was dim and the air had a more earthy smell than what I had grown accustomed to outside.
Jinxie looked up at how the sunlight pierced the thick canopy of honeysuckle that surrounded us. “Does this place remind you of Ashwood?”
My thoughts quickly went back to when I last spoke with my pop. He said for me to leave Ashwood and spend time with the Light Elves. He packed what few essentials I needed, and after his passing, I headed northwest to Lylandria with Goat, my undead animal companion.
“What do you remember of your childhood?” Jinxie asked.
“Before coming here, I really had only one friend,” I answered sadly.
We sat down on the cool dirt. It had been cleared of leaves and packed down from kids playing there.
“Was this friend a girl or a boy?” she asked curiously.
“A young girl,” I answered. “A human girl.”
“A human?” she repeated. “I’ve never seen a human. What are they like? Are they beautiful?”
Thinking a moment how to describe them, I answered, “They are plain but friendlier than Dark Elves.”
“What was her name?”
“Eve.”
“That’s a beautiful name. Where is she, now? Does she live in Ashwood?”
Hesitantly, I answered with a blank expression, “She’s dead.”
She quickly covered her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she apologized.
“She had already cheated death once,” I told her, breaking a sprout of new growth from a vine and picking the tiny leaves off one by one. “I knew when she hugged me goodbye, it would be the last time I would see her.”
“You could see it,” she said sadly, referring to the dark, illusory visions I have of people’s skin peeling away.
Looking her in the eyes, I nodded.
“And you see me this way?” she hesitantly asked.
Turning my gaze back to the twig I held between my fingers, I nodded again. “With such a deep understanding of Necromancy, I often see the living in various states of decay, which I have no control over. Even your people, who strive for personal perfection, often appear dead to me.”
“Everyone dies,” she stated. “That’s just something we all must accept.”
I stood and took a few steps away from her. “I can’t believe the Light Elves, of all creatures, would accept death without question,” I told her, turning to face her.
“But there’s nothing we can do to stop that,” she tried to explain, walking over to me.
Pointing out to the city, I argued, “That’s what he wants us to think!”
“That’s what who wants us to think?”
“Kronyx, our so called ‘city guardian.’”
“The dragon guardians protect us from the outside world, so we can live a long, peaceful life,” Jinxie disputed.
“Pop didn’t trust them, I don’t trust them, and neither should you,” I pointed.
With a mocking laugh, she said, “You’re just being paranoid. They protect us from trolls like the ones you faced on your way here.”
“Why do you think your people all live here in this one city instead of being allowed to expand? Is it protection or imprisonment?” While her brain worked toward the question’s inevitable answer, I moved on. “Whether you believe the dragons are plotting against us or not, if I can reanimate the dead, there must be a way to keep the spirit here instead of going to the Sun,” I explained to her. “My friend Eve was a vampire. She could not die of disease or old age. She would have stayed young forever had she not been killed.”
“So you want to become one of these vampires?”
“No. I don’t, but like raising the dead, there must be many ways one can become immortal.”
“The Sun is our true home. We all must make that journey after the body dies,” she preached, reciting her
words exactly as they had been preached to her.
“Don’t be so narrow minded. Not only could we live in this paradise forever, we could spread it over the entire world. We could bring back everyone who has passed on!”
“Death Magic is prohibited here. You know this.”
“If I could save people from death, wouldn’t that then be considered Life Magic? How would that be any different from what you do already with these plants?” I questioned.
“The plants we grow still live and die just like everything else. We use magic only to keep them fruitful and productive throughout their lifetime,” she explained.
“Well, what if we had a choice to live another lifetime or more?” I asked to soften my apparently radical vision. “What if you and I could wake up to a countless number of sunrises? What if we could spend many, many lifetimes enjoying this paradise your people have created?”
Smiling, she answered, “That does sound nice, but you’ll have to wake up for those sunrises to enjoy them with me.”
We both laughed, and I took hold of her hand, leading her to me. The honeysuckle that surrounded us barely allowed us to stand without having to stoop. Marveling at her big, beautiful eyes, I pressed my lips delicately to her nose before moving to her lips.
“You kiss with your eyes shut,” she noted, giggling sweetly. “Are you afraid you’ll have one of your dead visions of me?”
“It’s not funny,” I told her, unable to hold back my laughter. “I may like controlling the dead, but I don’t like kissing them.”
With an intrigued look on her face, she whispered, “You’ve been experimenting in secret, haven’t you? Kronyx will ban you for bringing Death Magic to Lylandria. You agreed not to use it when you arrived.”
“Necromancy may be banned within Lylandria, but there are no rules about practicing it beyond the city borders,” I answered with a sly grin. “You didn’t think I’d quit for all these months I’ve been here, did you?”
She slapped me lightly across the chest. “Years!” she corrected me again, laughing as she chased me out of the honeysuckle cave.
Immortal Genesis Page 2