by S K Smith
“Centuries ago, Mages were at the height of power. Humans and Elves alike had an abundance of trained and skilled Mages. Both the Human and Elven Kings were impressive in their ability. Lords and ladies of both courts were awarded with wealth and titles dependent on their strength, as both Kings sought the strongest of allies. Tensions over land and wealth between humans and elves had always been high, many battles were fought with many deaths. The population possessing no magic were hit hardest, even though they outnumbered Mages greatly, they had no strength to stop them. Too often, normal people were attacked by opposing Mages in a brutal display of power designed to intimidate and threaten. The blood shed knew no bounds. Magic was used horrendously, to destroy rather than create.
One day, the much-loved Princess Akaela of Elves disappeared mysteriously, and the Elven Mages were recalled by the King for a day of respectful Mourning and a ceasefire was agreed, leaving the outskirts of Myrliar unprotected. The Human King destroyed all towns outside of the Stone City, which sparked the fierce announcement of the Last War. The Elven King declared that all humans, Mage or not, would be burned from his Earth. Originally, only children of Mages or of Royalty were tested for magic at a young age, but with the prospect of war looming, all children were tested. Children of all ages with magic, were ripped from their screaming and crying mothers, and thrown into the roughest training. There was not a drop of magical blood unclaimed. Their numbers were evenly matched. After several months of brutal training and preparation, the Kings were done waiting. Blinded by his grief for his daughter, the Elven King commanded his Army to meet the opposition, thus the war began on his own land. His villages were mowed like grass, his farms and crops burned to ruin, and his people’s blood fed the cracked land of the North. Demoralised by all that they had lost, his Mages suffered, their focus was on the wreckage, on the loss of their own lands and people and the fruitlessness of war. Thousands of Mages died that day on both sides. By nightfall, only a handful of the strongest remained. An explosion of power ripped through the land, propelled by the remainder of the Human Mages who had combined the last of their magic in a desperate attack. The war was ended by four Elven Mages, who skilfully contained the blast and refocussed the power on the enemy. It was a feat of magic that had never been seen before, and even more impressive, they each still possessed more magic than an average Mage. The Elves had won at a devastating cost. The land for miles around had been scorched of all life, even the rubble and the ruins had turned to dust.
What happened after, saw the rise of the Elders as we know them. The Humans continued as before, with magic obliterated from their race, the only Mage left was their King who had lost the love of his nation. The Elven King at first, remained protected by his four surviving Mages. The Four as they became widely known, used their magic to rebuild Myrliar and begin its slow recovery. Over time, the love for The Four surpassed the love of the King, and he was removed and imprisoned for crimes against his people. The Four were anointed as the chosen Leaders of the Elves. With their dominant power they reached gracious terms with the Human King, and the River Myr was set as a boundary between their two peoples. The Four reigned in peace, no more wars, no more battles. The Elves regained their strength, their villages were rebuilt, and their farms regrew. Magic, however, had disappeared entirely. Eventually when the King of Humans passed, the Four remained the only Mages left. Many believed magic to be a gift from the Earth, and when the Earth was devastated, the gift was revoked. The Four eventually secluded themselves more and more from their prosperity, believing their task complete and their country safe, and traced the old royal bloodline back to a young boy, and trained him to take back his throne. They became his most trusted advisors. One day when his heir was born, and the Elven population’s love was secured for their new King, The Four retired into their studies, and advised from a distance. Centuries later they are now known as The Elders and are still the biggest influence and the most powerful mages in the world. Magic has been extinct on both sides since the war, centuries ago…
until your Father, and now you.” Sir Rakel added with pride.
Silence followed his story, a story Elle, Ayda and Syren had been told different variations, but with the same basis. The Elders had saved them all, every Elf child in Myrliar was brought up on this story, the love and respect for the Elders was still the lifeblood of the Elven people, therefore so many had betrayed her family. When choosing between their Saviours and their King, they would choose the most powerful out of fear, or respect. Ayda’s face was scrunched up concentrating on the finer details of the story they were well versed in.
‘We have always been told that the Elders have been our Saviours, but it doesn’t feel that way anymore,’ Elle shook her head sadly.
‘They have a no tolerance approach when it comes to magic it seems.’ Theo said.
‘But why? Surely if magic has been extinct for so long they would welcome its return?’ Elle asked.
‘Unless they fear it,’ Syren added weakly, ‘Maybe they don’t believe in peace whilst magic exists?’
‘I believe that is their fear.’ Sir Rakel responded.
‘If magic has not existed for centuries, that doesn’t explain why their Captains all seem well skilled in magic.’ Ayda said quickly. It hit Elle like a stone. Of course, she had been so bogged down in the belief that her and her Father were the only Mages since the War, but they couldn’t possibly be, otherwise how did the Captains possess magic – and of course the mystery girl from the Ritual?
‘Maybe there have been mages, and they have all been hunted down?’ Niall said slowly.
‘No, I don’t think that’s possible.’ Sir Rakel dismissed.
‘Why?’ Ayda asked, quickly.
‘Because they couldn’t possibly keep that secret. People would soon start to turn on them if their loved ones were being murdered or going missing. They haven’t kept their hunt for Elle particularly quiet.’ Sir Rakel explained.
‘He has a point,’ Syren piped up, ‘No-one has ever heard of magic being used, magic is dead to the population. If people were suddenly using magic and then disappearing, rumours would most certainly have spread.’
‘And if Elven mages have been hunted down, that doesn’t explain the lack of magic in Humans,’ Karl added, after a thoughtful moment.
‘Yes, we have never heard of magic before, and this story is completely new to us, as if it never happened. If Elf Mages are still around but being hunted, why does magic still not exist to humans?’ Theo contributed.
‘Magic is still mostly dead, then.’ Ayda finished, seemingly agreeing with their hypothesis.
‘I believe so,’ Sir Rakel said, ‘I can’t explain the Captains, but I have never ever heard word or seen magic in anyone other than the King and Princess Brielle.’
‘As Chief Protector and Head of the Army, and closest friend to the King, you would have, I think.’ Ayda agreed, her tone was icy as she said the last part. No one failed to notice. Elle was convinced. Magic was still rare. Humans had never heard of it, and there were no rumours or mention of it anywhere other than history books.
‘I can’t believe we have no knowledge of magic at home.’ Theo said sadly in disbelief.
‘I can understand why you hate our race,’ Niall shook his head miserably, ‘Our King was scum. They arranged a ceasefire and he took advantage of it. He killed so many innocents.’
‘Neither side was innocent.’
Shock materialised on every single face around the fire. Open mouths and wide eyes greeted the speaker. Syren had finally accepted the truth. There was no innocent party in war. When war is declared, all combatants accepted the knowledge that innocent blood would be shed. Lives lost was the currency of war. Lives lost was the reason, no one ever really won a war. Syren had finally realised that Elves were not innocent, and that both shared responsibility, and most importantly, that the three humans before her, the three humans that helped her, were not defined by their race, they were themselves.
‘Well now you have to live, because I’m starting to like you.’ Theo laughed, patting her on the shoulder playfully.
‘We were wrong to steal from your people,’ Niall said remorsefully.
‘Why did you join the Fiends?’ Ayda asked critically.
‘After I lost my Pa, the Fiends took me in,’ Niall revealed sadly, ‘They were my family, the Fiends only steal to help those who needed it.’
‘Mostly.’ Karl added under his breath, with a wink from Theo.
‘Why did you join the Army?’ Niall asked gently, his eyes locking with Ayda’s. Her mouth opened, and closed, Elle thought she would answer, but Ayda decided against it, she busied herself sharpening her blade and separated herself from the conversation. This piqued Elle’s curiosity. Ayda had never given a proper answer when someone asked that question, her simple answer was ‘for the people I love’ but Elle thought there was more to it than that. Tonight, her suspicions were confirmed, there was more to it than that, and Niall had nearly got it out of her. That night, the merriment was undeniable in the camp, Elle was happier that she had been in a while. A sense of peace had settled like a comfortable sheet upon them. The group had grown to respect each other, finally, after the near miss at the town, they were able to see past the differences in race and could move on together, stronger than before. Hope was bright between them too. For the first time, each of them was thinking of home, and soon talk turned to what they were looking forward to, rather than the fears they were sure to face.
The next morning, they rose early, keen to get a head start on the day. Elle sat peacefully by the river whilst her friends packed up camp ready to leave. Watching the flow of water spiral and twirl energetically downstream, Elle decided to use the moment for practice. She remembered fearing magic. Remembered watching her Father fight to the death with the Captain. Remembered turning wolves into ash. Remembered accidentally boiling the lake and harming Syren. But now she had hope. She had saved Ayda. She had saved her friends by using magic. She could not fear that power now, knowing that the power she held, if mastered, could protect all those she loved from dying. Wondering what she should practice doing, Elle considered the world around her. The sun was rising slowly, casting tremendous shadows across the ground as the sun framed the landscape. Birds were singing their beautiful morning song, and the soft trickle of water soothed her senses. She felt at peace. Were there limits to her power? Where should she begin? Deciding she should start off with something useful, something less dangerous, Elle focussed on a small, broken twig on the ground next to her. She willed it to move. No response. She pictured in her mind the twig rolling further from her and attempted to push the vision towards it. No response. Elle frowned. How had she managed to fight off a trained Mage if she couldn’t even move a twig?!
‘Are you OK?’ A hard voice whispered behind her. Sir Rakel had come to get her. Brielle nodded in frustration. Sir Rakel sighed and crouched down beside her.
‘You were practicing?’
‘How’d you guess?’ Elle replied.
‘This twig isn’t interesting enough to be glared at for as long as you were.’ Sir Rakel laughed softly, twirling it between his fingers.
‘What were you trying to do?’ He continued.
‘Move it,’ Elle whispered sadly, ‘But I couldn’t.’ Sir Rakel nodded, seeming to understand.
‘Being a Mage isn’t easy,’ He advised, ‘I remember the first time I suspected your Father had magic.’
‘How’d you know?’
‘We were practicing archery, your Father was a bit of a sore loser, when his arrows failed to hit the mark next to mine, he accidentally lit it and sent it soaring through an open window in frustration.’ Sir Rakel chuckled at the memory.
‘Did he master it quickly?’ Elle asked, lightened by her Father’s failures in the face of her own.
‘No, I think he struggled with it. He mentioned several times about feeling the flow of magic. Maybe you should concentrate on that?’ Sir Rakel suggested. Elle scrunched her face up in annoyance. She couldn’t feel magic now. She had only felt the flow of magic when it consumed her and exploded from her hands. Her hands! Raising a hand, she stretched out to the twig in Sir Rakel’s hand willing it to fly, it zoomed from his hand and into hers easily. Sir Rakel applauded happily. Elle was astounded. Was it really that easy?
‘Did you understand that?’ Sir Rakel prompted. Elle shook her head. Apart from raising her hand, she didn’t understand what had been different. Sir Rakel invited her to try again. This time she paid closer attention to the magic. She had a split-second view. She noticed as she made her decision, the smallest specks of white light had flowed from her hand and disappeared into the air. It excited her. She wondered if that was it, if that was her magic.
‘Can you see that?’ Elle asked eagerly, she explained the white light to Sir Rakel, who shook his head. Elle tried a few more times, each time the flow of light specks was the same. She became used to seeing them and decided to keep an eye on them when using magic in the future. Eventually the other’s joined them impatient to move on. Each of them was excited when they heard that Elle had gotten the confidence to practice. Following the river north, they grew closer and closer to the outskirts of the wastes.
‘So, these flecks of light,’ Niall asked, when the party had started walking, ‘Have you not noticed them before?’
‘I think I have seen them before, during the Ritual.’ Elle explained.
‘You think?’
‘Well, there were more of them, and much stronger lights, they almost blinded me. These ones are quite difficult to see.’
‘But Sir Rakel couldn’t see them?’ Niall asked. Elle shook her head.
‘Maybe only Mages can see them?’ Theo asked. Elle remembered asking her Father what the lights were. He couldn’t see them either. She explained this to her friends. They were baffled. Elle was sure it had something to do with her magic, but if her Father was a skilled Mage, why could he not see them?
13 – NIALL
Days passed, and the group continued north, following the path of the river. Sir Rakel had instructed that they were to find the source of the River, but even he didn’t seem to know what to expect. The journey had been a roller coaster for Niall and his fellow Fiends. He looked back to the wet and stormy night and wondered how on earth they had become so entwined in the fate of this young elf. He should have turned back with the rest of the clan! Niall sighed deeply. Looking back at the young face of the blonde-haired elf trailing behind him, and the determined grit in the eye of her older sister, he knew there was no where he’d rather be. The journey had changed everything. He had realised how different, and yet how very similar humans and elves were. They shared a story, a past, a fate, but the humans knew nothing of it. He had had no idea of the scale of the bloodshed between the two peoples, no idea that the deep hatred shared by all was born of a centuries old war. Then there was magic! Stories of magic were unheard of throughout humanity. There was rumour and speculation that the King’s Spirit God was magically blessed, but the majority believed this to be a ludicrous tale. Could it be true? Could magic return to humans the way it had returned to the Elves? Niall had felt himself change, he was unsure. Everything to him had been so clear before, but now the water was muddied. Ayda had been so strong and fierce when she had stumbled into his childhood, and she had remained alive in his thoughts. Being with her again, as if by fate, had changed him. He was no longer care free and playful, but worried and protective. He would find himself glimpsing at her, and his heart threatened to jump from his chest whenever she smiled. There was only one person who could make her smile. The Princess was a marvel, Niall thought, throughout all she had been through, she was tough. The quiet, timid Elf that had crawled afraid from the wreckage of her home, had emerged like a soldier, passionate and ferocious. He enjoyed watching her practise her magic. He laughed at her when she pouted in frustration and swelled with pride when she failed but persevered, until she w
on.
‘It can’t be much longer now?’ Ayda suggested, striding up to walk alongside him. Ayda had been much kinder to him of late. Since he had stood by Syren he noticed. He supposed he would be the same, had someone done that for one of his brothers. He looked at the back of their heads fondly. What would he do without them? Karl and Theo were ever the same, they were the foundation of his home. He watched them lead the group onwards, Karl ever silent, patiently listening to whatever rubbish Theo was telling him this time. He knew Karl longed for home, but loyalty kept him by Niall’s side.
‘I hope not, everyday seems to leave us with more questions.’ Niall replied. He saw Ayda glimpse at him from the corner of her eye. The frustration drove them on, every truth seemed to multiply into more questions. Questions whirled through his head in a never-ending list, he could not imagine how Elle must feel, as most of the answers reflected her destiny.
‘You… never told me,’ Ayda whispered hesitantly, ‘How you knew about the tunnel back at home?’ Niall recoiled. He wasn’t ready to tell her that, he wasn’t sure he would ever be. Was it worth adding to the confusion that weighed on everyone like an anchor as they trudged through the marsh? Everything was complicated enough, he didn’t need to contribute any more to that. He refused to answer believing it to be for the best. He caught Theo regarding him sadly from the distance. Niall could not accept it yet, he had hidden those feelings, drowned them over the years, it was not the right time. It was never the right time.