The Revenge of the Elves

by Gary Alan Wassner

  “Careful Dav,” Robyn said. “If you allow it to grow too large within you, when you release it, it will exhaust you, and whatever you seek to communicate with might be decimated. In those first few moments, the void it would leave would be most unsafe.”

  The boy’s face was serene though his eyelids pulsed and his veins stood out on his arms.

  “Focus on that bush ahead. Look at it. Look into it,” Robyn instructed him. “But be cautious. When you use your power on something living, you must always do so with the object’s consent. Never forget that.”

  Dav turned his head toward the plant Robyn referred to. The light rose up inside of him. It expanded and grew whiter, more intense. Relaxing his muscles, he allowed it to wax freely. His body was warm and his vision sharp, as if he could see through the plant’s surface into its branches and leaves. He recognized when to release it and he let the light welling up in his head flow out through his forehead. Channeling it with great care, it felt as if he’d opened a third eye through which the power escaped. It felt like a part of him, an extension of his own life-force, no different than the words escaping from his mouth. This was just another way of talking, another way of communicating, and he knew how to speak this language as if he had always spoken it. It rolled off the tongue of his soul.

  “Good. Very good,” Robyn said. Davmiran was remarkable. He learned so fast and his power was already strong. “You’ve touched it. Now relax and let it answer you. Don’t expect its first words to be comprehensible. Don’t judge them. Don’t value them. They will be primitive, hard to decipher. Mostly, they will be responses to the stimuli of your query, of your touch. But they are words nonetheless, no different than our own.”

  Davmiran listened with his entire body. His probe contacted the physical structure of the plant, and it bent away at first, in fear, perhaps, or due to what it likely interpreted as an intrusion. Softening the flow in response, he mimicked the texture of the bush itself, without offending its integrity. He eliminated all sense of a threat and opened himself up, as if unfurling his soul across the vastness of his internal space.

  “It has accepted you. It gives way to you,” Robyn said. Amazing. Effortless. His intuition was perfect. “Let it respond. Either it will shut itself off and harden the part of its surface that allows it to maintain its shape, or it will yield and give way to your touch. If it allows you in, move slowly, do not endanger its unity. Ease the light through its pores gently until you feel the harmony. You should feel as one with it soon, not as two distinct objects, separate and apart. If it rejects you, remove yourself quickly. Do not force yourself upon it or it must react. Easy now.” He gave him instructions but Dav would have found his way regardless. His abilities constantly exceeded Robyn’s expectations.

  Dav felt the energy surging ahead. His vision shifted and he saw the world from inside the cells of the bush. The perspective was the strangest he had ever known but he didn’t react. He remained relaxed. Totally relaxed. The plant fed upon him, upon his energy, the cells nourished themselves, and it was grateful. He knew it. He felt the gratitude, the comfort of the sharing. He wanted to speak, to tell Robyn that the plant smiled, and though that description made sense to him now as meager as it was, no words could capture the intensity of the encounter. They’d spoken to one another.

  Davmiran exhaled, then he blinked for the first time in what seemed a long while. The small bush that stood in front of him was a bit taller and thicker than before he had touched it. After the moment of acceptance, it drew in his power with a ravenous hunger, nurturing itself on the light he offered. Its roots spread into the soil, extending themselves, flush with life, and its branches stretched higher into the sky.

  “Excellent. You’ve mastered this with ease. Of course, in battle you wouldn’t have the luxury of quiet and time that you have here with me. And yet it is often patience that is most critical in these situations. Much of what we see in nature has not the sentience to respond quickly to such entreaties, and you can’t rush it or force the object to yield. The defensive mechanism is the first one to respond, and a living thing naturally seeks its own salvation when it’s first touched,” Robyn explained. “But you did well, Davmiran. Very well.” He slapped him on the back in recognition.

  Davmiran felt refreshed, not tired, after this exertion. He expected to be weakened by the encounter, but the intimate contact with the primitive consciousness of this plant uplifted him in its own way. The yearning he sensed in it reached beyond its desire to absorb the light he touched it with. The longing had no words and no shape, but it was potent, compelling, inexorable. Davmiran learned to recognize this feeling, and he was gradually coming to believe it was endemic to all that lived, this primordial drive to possess and to conquer thereby, rather than to surrender. He felt more than a desire for self-preservation, more than defensiveness alone. The yearning was for power, primal and pure. Therein lay the root of life. Therein lay the weapon. He was certain that if it could, it would have claimed him for its own.

  “It too will fight,” he said to Robyn.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “So we have shared. Now we know of more sadness to come,” Harton said with a bowed head. He looked over his shoulder into the blur beyond.

  “And of joy, Harton. I choose to keep the image of the youngling in my mind,” Liam replied.

  “There is nothing we can do to prevent Marathar from doing what he wishes. I too will focus upon the new tree. If one can be born and thrive still, there is hope for the Lalas,” Crea agreed.

  A great sorrow permeated the air. Another tree would soon be dead. Another Lalas the earth could not bear to lose. And another Chosen.

  “We have passed on to each other information we wouldn’t have discovered otherwise these days. So much has changed,” Dashiel said. “Why? Why is this happening? What are they doing? I’m willing to ask that,” he said, looking down his nose at Harton.

  “If they choose not to tell us, so be it. At least we are able to fill in the gaps,” Edmond replied.

  “The Dark One is again preparing for war,” Phero said, bristling. “And we have to fill in the gaps? For what purpose? He prepares and we struggle with our own trees.”

  “Yes, and he brings this war to us so soon,” Liam added. “He is relentless. And the youngling is still frail.”

  “When one’s armies are expendable, it’s simply a matter of organization. His strength rejuvenates quickly while the light fades,” Connor said.

  “And he draws the people into war, knowing that even if they win, they also lose. The result of these battles is more destruction and more death. His defeats are victories,” Blodwyn said in frustration.

  “Where will he strike next, do you suppose?” Edmond asked. The cities were all so vulnerable. The people so innocent.

  “We shall watch and see, and all the while, make ready as best as we can,” Blodwyn said, refusing to abandon hope despite the circumstances. She gazed up into the misted sky. “This is not the first time we have been severely tested.” But it was the first time she’d been tested by her own tree in this way. Her last encounter with Lilandre reminded her of that.

  “Those of you who are closest to the darkness must maintain a constant vigil until we know. Then you must dispense the information as we did today. We cannot rely upon the Lalas to discover it any longer,” Dashiel said. He had come to a resolution with himself, a painstaking one. There were things he realized he must do that he never before imagined. “Liam! You reside nearer to Sedahar than any of us. Will you stand watch for us all?”

  “Of course, Dashiel,” he replied.

  “What will you do now, Tomas?” Blodwyn turned and asked. So much depended upon him and his brother. So very much. He was untested, worried. His confidence wavered. And his brother? He was sequestered in Parth with Robyn Dar Tamarand. A rogue or a savior? “Will you consult with Ormachon?” she inquired, her eyes locked upon his. He had been avoiding that decision and she knew it. They had all been avoidi
ng things these days. “We must return to our bondmates soon, and determine how to deal with these revelations. You are not alone in your concerns, Tomas. You are bonded as we are. You suffer as we do.” She wondered if he knew how much she suffered.

  “I must speak with him. I know this. It has been too long since we last communicated.” He closed his eyes halfway, gazing off into the distance within his mind’s eye. “I will,” he said again as if to convince himself.

  “Good. It is unhealthy to be apart for this long,” Harton said, missing the uncertainty in Tomas’ voice as he missed so many things.

  “I too am anxious to return to Torenth’s side,” Tobias agreed, “though I fear what I may find.”

  “I share the same concerns,” Phero concurred, concerns that shook every Chosen, that subverted the relationships that held everything together.

  “I must leave Avalain,” Tomas said to no one in particular. “Though it provides me with shelter, I can’t remain here any longer. I fool myself here. It was not designed to protect me,” he said, as if this just occurred to him. “This shield of Sidra’s prevents me from reaching Ormachon. He can’t see into it and I can’t see beyond it. Did she intend that, I wonder?” he said, thinking aloud. “But I also can’t contact my brother yet. Of that, she was right. I planned to go to Odelot, but I don’t believe that I can now. It isn’t the right place for me,” he replied in a distant voice. He groped for answers, but everywhere he turned he found none.

  “Where will you go then Tomas?” Blodwyn asked, wishing she could help him decide, guide him. She hoped he would see what she saw. “What of your companions? Your friends?”

  “Queen Esta must remain with her people. She can’t leave them again. Stephanie too should stay in the city with her,” he said, focused once again at the mention of his friends. Elion and Preston gave him hope and strength and Stephanie tied him to his past.

  “And Elion, the elf?” Dashiel asked. “He has been your companion for a long time.” He was the one who originally found Davmiran spellbound and unconscious outside of Pardatha.

  “Yes, he should be with you. You two are meant to be together. He saved your brother and he is your guardian too, as well you are his,” Blodwyn voiced Dashiel’s thoughts. She knew the three of them should not separate. Not at this moment. The prophesies. She couldn’t forget the prophesies. An elf, a dwarf and a human child…

  “Yes, Elion is a good friend. More than a friend. And I can’t leave Preston behind. He sees so much that I do not, that I can’t,” Tomas said. He was glad they recognized his friend’s worth. “Besides, he makes things bearable. He makes me smile when I can’t do so on my own.”

  “We must mend the cracks as they appear, lest they rupture the entire earth,” Dashiel warned. He had decided to do what he must and he was pleased that Tomas came to a similar conclusion. Pleased and saddened.

  “And we must balance our concerns with trust. Our dear trees are departing. They must be anguished and in turmoil that we cannot comprehend. I have sensed no fear on my bondmate’s part, but I do sense the loss. It’s almost as if a fog has descended upon Xia, and he is distracted each time we commune,” Edmond said. He longed to be back at his side, if only to comfort him.

  “I too have felt it,” Harton admitted. “Farrow is not as definite as he used to be. It seems as if he is reaching out in the darkness at times, but not to me. No longer to me.” He struggled with the words. His doubts and discomfort were greater than the others’ and he denied them better than the rest. Farrow already refused him once. He feared what the future would bring.

  “They need us, my friends. I know we must seek answers wherever the search takes us, and consider them however difficult that may be for us to do. But we must also seek to preserve and protect the power we know exists amongst the Lalas,” Crea said, speaking loudly as usual. “Fear is not our way. It has never been the way of the Chosen.”

  “The day may come when we will have to make choices that, at this time, seem incomprehensible to us. But that moment is not upon us yet and, the First willing, may never be,” Liam said. They knew what he was referring to. The bond. The bond. The unthinkable was happening.

  “Our duty weighs more heavily upon us now than ever before, in every aspect. Let us return to our trees and offer whatever support we can. We may discover things we do not wish to know, but our obligations are many, as are our strengths,” Tobias said. “We must bear whatever we learn. We mustn’t despair.”

  “It will be hard to keep our minds quiet. Return to your trees but beware. There are now things we cannot reveal without dire consequences,” Blodwyn said. No choices were simple. No paths were clear.

  She grasped Tomas’ hand and kissed him upon the cheek just before she left. Her expression was odd, like one who is looking at someone familiar, but can’t place him for certain. Her hand went to her brow and then she smiled at him once again. She withdrew and inched away.

  Tomas caught her eye just before her silhouette vanished. He noticed Dashiel staring at him as they all flickered and disappeared.

  Startled, Esta dropped the book she was flipping through to pass the time. It felt as if things were brushing against her, and though she could not hear anything, she sensed a commotion around her. Then suddenly everything stopped. The room grew still. The ethereal outlines of figures that filled the chamber over the last hour vanished and Tomas sat slumped in the chair across from Elion. The light from the silver ring clenched in his palm went out, but the walls of the windowless chamber gleamed and sparkled like never before.

  Elion stood up when the movements around him stopped, and walked to Tomas’ side. Grasping him by the shoulders, he straightened the boy in his seat. He lifted his chin with his hand and looked him in the face just as his eyes fluttered open.

  “Relax, Tomas. I don’t want you to fall out of the chair,” he spoke in his ear. “Are you alright?” He’d done this with him before. He knew how exhausting it could be.

  Tomas blinked a few times, clearing his vision, and raised his eyes to meet Elion’s.

  “You were gone from us for some time. Here, drink some of this,” Esta said, joining Elion at the boy’s side and handing him a flask of cider. Tomas grabbed it and drank, surprised at how thirsty and depleted he was. “Do you wish to tell us what happened?”

  “We saw movement and we heard sounds, but it was impossible for us to decipher anything. You met with them, right? Did you learn what you hoped to?” Elion asked.

  “I suppose so,” Tomas said, his voice tired and strained. “I learned of many things. Too many.” His eyes were faraway still, his expression pained.

  “Was it that bad?” Esta inquired. His demeanor worried her. What could he have learned that disturbed him so?

  “Let’s let him rest for a while,” Elion said. “He’s not yet himself.” He too was concerned, more than he showed. Too much was unsettled. A meeting with the Chosen should have provided direction. He sought them out at his and Esta’s urging in order to make known the problems that plagued him. What terrible news had he come away with?

  “No,” Tomas answered. “I’m fine. Really. I shouldn’t make you wait to hear what happened. You stayed with me the whole time.” Placing the ring around his neck as he spoke, Tomas pulled upon the rawhide string to test the strength of the knot before dropping it back inside his tunic once again. “Another Lalas is dying.”

  Esta inhaled and gritted her teeth. “So soon,” she blew the air out slowly.

  “Yes. It was a surprise to us as well,” Tomas said with his head bent. “There’s more. Much more. The Evil One is raising another army to the north of Sedahar. It’s unclear what manner of beast he’s spawning to populate it, but we know he’s readying for war again.” Tomas looked more fatigued than ever. His eyes had lost their sparkle and his skin was pasty.

  “Where will he send it? Do the Chosen know?” Elion asked. Not Seramour again, he prayed.

  “Not yet. Liam is going to take up the watch. He’
ll tell us when Colton begins to march,” he replied.

  “So we start once again,” Esta said. “There is no peace to be found anymore, not even a respite. How long before he tires us out? In the past, when we fought a war, there was an end in sight. Now we battle and win, and still another one begins. The enemy is always the same. We should have joined together and put an end to him ages ago,” she shook her head in dismay. “It never pays to ignore a threat. Never.”

  “And another Lalas is dying. There will be no peace until the Gem is located!” Elion said. “He draws us into war, and we must fight to preserve ourselves. We have no choice but to do that and yet our triumphs force us to continue the quest. We gain nothing by defeating him on the battlefields. You’re right Esta. This fighting does not strengthen us, even victory depletes our resources.”

  “But he gains nothing either! Death is not dissolution! As long as the remains return to the earth, they continue to be a part of our world, and the world lives on,” Esta reminded him. “When we know something is wrong, we must confront it. We must. It won’t go away by itself. Gwendolen ignored the warnings. Your father closed his eyes to the things he didn’t wish to acknowledge. He…”

  “Esta?” Elion interrupted her, but she waved her hand and looked at him sternly.

  “The boy must learn the truth sometime,” she insisted and kept speaking. “He didn’t fight in the end Tomas. He allowed complacency and wishful thinking to mask the truth. The world was being mistreated. He saw the damage, the smoke, the change in the weather, the blackened skies, the warming waters. He ignored it.”

  “Esta is right Tomas. Things might be different now if he had… if we all had recognized our responsibilities then. The trees might not be dying for one,” Elion agreed.

  “People in positions of authority have obligations. They must lead,” Esta said. “He was a good man, your father. But he lost his way, Tomas. Let the truth be told.” She stepped away from his chair and looked at the floor. She’d known King Garold well and she watched helplessly as the veil came down around the High Kingdom. Her numerous warnings fell upon deaf ears… deafened ears. Finally, her envoys were shut out and sent back to Avalain without even being granted audiences. The Kingdom was sealed, and so was its doom.