Rise of the Fallen

by Ivory Autumn

  “You’re wrong,” Rhapsody said. “What you saw was very important.”

  “Really, how?”

  “It means that you can see through things. Since you are only sixteen, your gifts are probably just getting their first breath of real air. Most elves don’t develop their gifts until much later in life. But your case is much different. Much different.”

  “It is?”

  “Yes, it is. I’ve heard of a few younger elves reaching the peak of their gifts at a young age. Well, I mean, all elf babies show some sign of their gifts. That is, until about the age of two, and then their gifts go back into hiding, until it is the right time, or some other great need makes them surface.”

  Andrew looked confused. “That’s weird. I was able to use my gift over plants for as long as I can remember. Except, I don’t understand anymore. I have never turned anything living, like those Lizicks, into trees before now. And after I was taken from my home everything green I touched, died.”

  Rhapsody smiled. “Not to worry, Andrew. You are just experiencing the change. Elves’ gifts also work in reverse. What plants you cause to live, you can also cause to die. And what you cause to die can be caused to live. With some control and training, you will understand how to use your gifts. It’s the way of things. However, many elves have been cautioned against using their gifts anymore, because Barnacles, dark creatures, that siphon gifts from elves, can smell it when an elf uses his gifts. To use ones gifts is very dangerous these days. Many deny the power given to them, because it is unsafe to use it. It is truly an age of great darkness in which we live.”

  “Barnacles,” Andrew wondered, a look of sadness falling over his countenance. “That’s what Orion said killed my real parents.”

  “Yes,” Rhapsody agreed. “It was. And that is why you must conceal your gifts until it is time for you to reveal them.”

  After that, they continued on in quiet reflection, passing out of the barren lands of the Chewthumps, traveling two-week’s journey around the mountains and into a misty land that was cold and foggy. At the boarder of this foggy land, they camped under a huge tree trunk that had split in two. Its center was almost entirely hollow and it made an excellent chimney for their campfire.

  “Ever slept inside a tree?” Rhapsody asked the group, as he leaned lazily against the back of the tree and puffed on his pipe.

  “Nope. But I have slept on a tree,” Talic said. “I was picking apples, as I recall. I fell asleep on a branch and I nearly broke my arm when I rolled over and fell off.”

  “Did it hurt?” Ivory wondered.

  “Need you ask?” Talic said, hugging his knees to his chest and warming his hands by the small fire.

  “You’d do better to ask the person he fell on,” Andrew said, laughing. “It hurt!”

  “I’ll say it did!” Talic piped up. “Your bony frame doesn’t have much cushion.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Maybe if you didn’t hog all the food,” Freddie retorted, yanking a piece of dried meat away from Talic, “then he’d have some cushion.”

  Talic frowned and yanked it back. “Speak for yourself.”

  Freddie held up a cracker and took a bite. “To each his own, I guess.”

  “Andrew,” Ivory asked. “I was wondering, can you see through things all the time?”

  Andrew shrugged. “No. I’ve only seen through things once before, back at the Hollow, when I was planting a neighbors' garden. I was able to see the seeds sprout inside the ground.”

  “Wow.” Talic smiled in amusement. “Can you see through people. Can you see my bones and my thoughts, too?”

  “Talic, even if I could read your thoughts, I wouldn’t have too. Your thoughts aren’t a mystery. You tell us everything you’re thinking.”

  Talic frowned. “Hey, I don’t tell you everything. Besides, I just wanted to be sure that you weren’t prying into my sacred of sacreds, just any ole’ time.”

  “Don’t worry. I don’t think I’d want to.”

  “Hey, I think about neat stuff. How do you know you wouldn’t want to?”

  “Talic, believe me, I just wouldn’t, okay?”

  Talic folded his arms and sniffed. “Fine, if that’s the way you see it. But, you’re missing out, truly.”

  “Missing out, how?”

  “Missing out thinking about food,” Freddie said, shoving Talic in the ribs. “That’s what.”

  They laughed, and joked amongst themselves, gradually growing quiet, as they watched the embers of the low-burning fire, thinking of their far-off homes and of the foggy, cold world outside.

  Andrew looked up from the flames at Ivory. She looked sad, and far from relaxed. She scarcely spoke a word. He could tell she felt like an outsider. She seemed afraid to join in for fear of belonging to something that she wasn’t sure of. “Ivory,” he asked, “where are your parents? You’ve never told us what happened to them.”

  Ivory stared at Andrew, a look of emptiness etched into her eyes. “They…uh…”

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” She pinched her lips into a tight line and blinked back tears. “Really. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “Yes it does.”

  “Fine, if you want to know. When I was just five-years-old, my own father sold me as a slave!”

  “He sold you? But why?”

  “Because he didn’t love me. That’s why!”

  “I’m so sorry, Ivory,” Andrew reached out to her, but she backed away.

  “Me too.” Embarrassed, she wiped a stray tear, and exited the tree hollow, out into the night.

  “Wait, Ivory!” Andrew cried, standing up. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…”

  “Let her go,” Rhapsody murmured in a low voice, blowing a puff of red fiery smoke from his pipe. “Her father was a very dark man. Her heart has been hurt many times. And a heart that has been deeply hurt, does not easily open. Trust is something we all must earn.” Rhapsody sighed, taking another puff on his pipe. “But, it is amazing what a little kindness will do.”

  Andrew frowned. “I have been trying to be kind to her. But I still think she thinks that I wrecked Krot’s garden on purpose in order to get her into trouble.”

  “No she doesn’t think that. Andrew, you need to learn to be still. All Ivory really needs is someone to listen to her.” This time, Rhapsody blew two blue puffs of smoke, shaped like a star within a star. “She’ll be back.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Andrew mumbled, sulking in a corner, leaning his head against the tree. The tree let out a low cracking groan as the wood behind Andrew popped, and leaves from outside the tree fell like scattered feathers.

  “You just killed the tree!” Talic cried, looking at Andrew in astonishment. “Freddie did you see that?”

  Freddie nodded. “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry,” Andrew murmured, scooting his back away from the tree. “I didn’t mean too.”

  “Don’t worry so much,” Rhapsody said, blowing a smooth current of glittery smoke from his mouth, like sparkling water from a mountain stream. “You just need to think positive. Sooner than later you’ll be able to control your…”

  “Problem?” Andrew finished for Rhapsody.

  “I was going to say, GIFTS! They are only problems if you make them so. You should really be more relaxed, like me,” Rhapsody blew a puff of orange-red black smoke, shaped like little butterflies. The smoke butterflies fluttered about the room and drifted under Talic's nose, making him sneeze.

  “It will make your journey ever so much more pleasant,” Rhapsody continued. “It’s so pleasant and relaxing to be relaxed, like…me.”

  “Are you alright?” Andrew asked, waving the smoke away from his face, staring at Rhapsody’s glazed eyes. “You look strange.”

  Rhapsody yawned, blowing a puff of smoke into Andrew’s face. “Want to trrrry mmmy pppipe? It makes you feel like you're melting into the ground, like hot butter...” He held t
he pipe in front of Andrew. “Come on,” he insisted. “Try it! In a minute you’ll feel as carefree as smoke.”

  “Carefree as smoke, eh?”

  “Yes. Now have at it!”

  “Fine,” Andrew said, taking the wooden pipe, and sucking in. His eyes suddenly grew wide, and his face turned ashen white.

  Rhapsody stared at Andrew, and smiled. “I told you it was good, now didn’t I?”

  “N…no…!” Andrew coughed, expelling the pipe from his mouth. “R…Rhapsody. You’ve…k…killed me.” He doubled over, coughing a green cloud of smoke. “I’m dying.” He coughed again, and a neat gray smoky spider’s web was launched into the air.

  “What's…what’s…in that pipe?” Andrew wheezed, grasping his throat choking.

  “Ha, ha!” Rhapsody laughed. “You look more relaxed already!”

  “Relaxed?” Andrew gasped. “How could I feel relaxed, when it feels like something’s climbing up my throat?”

  “Hmm,” Rhapsody mumbled, still greatly amused. “You must’ve got some of it stuck in your throat. Not a very good idea. I remember when I got some of it stuck in my lungs. It stayed there for a month. It was mighty uncomfortable.”

  “A-a month?” Andrew coughed.

  “Don’t worry,” Rhapsody said, “It’ll be out in a jiffy!” He smacked Andrew on the back as he coughed. “Just relax and it’ll come out.”

  Andrew let out a great sneeze and a small, green, smoky spider was catapulted into the air.

  Rhapsody laughed, and blew the green smoke-spider away until it slowly faded.

  “There,” Rhapsody said. “Feel better, now?”

  “No!” Andrew cried, giving Rhapsody a nasty look. His stomach ached. It felt like someone had just mixed everything he’d just eaten, with an eggbeater.

  “Here, drink some water,” Freddie said, holding a canteen to Andrew's lips. “That’ll make you feel better for sure.”

  “Thanks, Freddie,” Andrew said, gulping the water. After he’d drank his fill, he pressed his hands to his temples and sighed wearily.

  “Didn't I tell you that you'd feel better after you tried my pipe?” Rhapsody said, patting him on the back. “Made you forget all your problems for a minute, at least.”

  “Sure did.” Andrew frowned. “What was in that pipe anyway?”

  Rhapsody smiled and blew another puff. “Probably stuff that shouldn’t be smoked by boys. It's made from a mixture that few on earth know of. It is most relaxing to the nerves.”

  “Yeah, made from poison,” Andrew said. “It’s so relaxing it kills you.”

  Rhapsody twirled the smoke in the air with his finger, twisting it into a long snake. “Seriously, it is relaxing, and it has no ill side effects.”

  “No ill side effects? Coughing up spider webs wouldn’t be one?”

  “It could have been something much worse,”

  “How much worse?”

  “Oh, not too worse…I remember the time I got a bunch of butterflies stuck in my sinuses. Now, that was uncomfortable.” Rhapsody yawned and took another puff on his pipe, blowing out soft white smoke feathers that drifted slowly to the ground. He puffed on the pipe again and blew out dozens of smoky snowflakes, all intricately designed.

  “Butterflies in your sinuses?” Andrew questioned

  “I can’t remember, maybe it was…prickly ferns.” Rhapsody laughed gave a loud yawn.

  “I don’t think you should be smoking anymore,” Andrew said, giving Rhapsody a concerned look.

  Rhapsody smiled and let out another puff of smoke. “Don’t you think I would look good in a chimney?”

  “Chimney?”

  “Yes,” Rhapsody went on. “They make excellent houses. But, maybe you should try them on, just to make sure they fit. They’d be terrible uncomfortable if they didn’t.”

  “What are you talking about?” Andrew asked, waving away the curling smoke drifting from Rhapsody’s mouth.

  “He’s really losing it,” Talic said, shaking his head. “And I thought my grandpa said weird things.”

  “I lost my nose, once,” Rhapsody murmured, in a relaxed tone. “I really must find out where I put your fingernail. You really shouldn't go out in the cold without it.”

  “What is he smoking?” Freddie exclaimed, laughing. Talic doubled over laughing. “He’s smoking shapes, that’s what.”

  “I think we should take it away from him,” Andrew said, trying to take the pipe away from Rhapsody, but doing an exceedingly poor job of it. Every time he tried to take it away, Rhapsody would blow a puff of smoke in his face and practically suffocate him with it.

  “Dude, you guys,” Talic murmured, peering outside into the fog. “Ivory’s gone.”

  “Goooone?” Rhapsody yawned. He looked like he was drifting off to sleep. His eyelids drooped and his face sagged. Freddie and Andrew still hadn’t succeeded in taking the pipe away from him.

  “Rhapsody, you need to wake up, so you can help us find Ivory. She’s gone.” Andrew repeated.

  “Gone?” Rhapsody yawned again. “That’s…that’s nice.”

  “Nice?”

  “Superbly nice, to be exact,” Rhapsody said, toppling over onto his back with a thud.

  “Here,” Talic cried, handing Andrew a canteen of water. “Dump some water on his head. Maybe it’ll wake him up. I'd have dumped it myself, but I'd rather you do it, in case he gets mad. He can’t kill the Chosen One, if you know what I mean.”

  “Thanks a lot,” Andrew said, taking the canteen and dumping the water onto Rhapsody’s head.

  “Brrrr!” Rhapsody sputtered, standing up and hitting his head on the roof of the tree. “Grrrr! Ouch! Huh, what, what? Who did that?” He looked at the empty canteen in Andrew's hand and scowled. “Why'd you try to drown me?”

  “Ivory’s missing,” Andrew said, ignoring Rhapsody's angry stare.

  “Ivory’s gone?” Rhapsody asked, the sleepy look in his eyes slowly fading. “Where'd she go?” He looked around the hollow, cautiously, as if Ivory might pop out from beneath a pebble or a rotten log.

  “You said she’d be fine. That she’d come back, but she’s gone.” Andrew said. “Do you think she ran away because of me?”

  Rhapsody frowned. “I know what I said. I was wrong. I did not think she would wander so far. And no. She didn’t run away because of you. I’m sure of that. But I do believe that she is in grave danger. Dark things lurk in the mist.”

  “What type of dark things?” Andrew wondered.

  Rhapsody grabbed his staff, and stepped out into the cold, foggy night. “Things far worse that you can imagine. Come boys, let us find her before something else does!”

  ~~~~

  Chapter Thirteen

  Foggy Illusion

  Ivory stared out into the thick fog with troubled eyes. The mist covered the earth and sky like a dark blanket, hiding what was ahead. The fog resembled her life in so many ways. Everything about it was so uncertain, so obscure, so untrustworthy. She hated it. HATED IT!

  She glanced back to the light of the small campfire underneath the tree-hollow, where her friends were, and then back at the fog. How she wished the fog of her life would lift, and that she could see the answers, could see beyond herself, and to a future that was clear, defined, and beautiful.

  She froze, hearing a hissing sort of whisper and then a low mournful clank, clink, clink, like the rattling of chains and the tinkling of small bells. “Hello?”

  Clank, clank, clink, click. The sound started again, only nearer this time.

  “Hello?” she said, stepping further into the fog. This time her voice was barely above a whisper.

  The odd clinking stopped.

  She peered anxiously over her shoulder, only to discover that the tree and the comforting light of the fire had disappeared behind her, replaced by a thick wall of fog, misty, and mysterious. She must have strayed further than she thought.

  “Okay,” she shivered. “Time to go back.” She turned in the direction she thought she’d
come. The unusual clanking sound started up again, only much louder.

  “Who are you?” She asked, turning around. But, the swirling fog was all she could see.

  The clinking continued to grow louder. Clank, clang, clang, clink, clink, clink, like mournful church bells ringing someone’s death. Her own? She shuddered, and quickened her pace. A feeling of dread crept up her spine and clutched at her throat. It made her breath grow short and her heart beat faster.

  “It’s okay, Ivory,” she comforted herself. “The tree’s just a little farther that way.”

  The strange clanking continued, growing fiercer and more frightening. Her mind whirled and she broke out into a full run. The clanking noise mysteriously stopped. She paused to look behind her.

  “Ivoryyy,” a melodic voice called. “Ivorryyy.”

  “Andrew?” she asked her voice tense with fear.

  “This way,” the musical voice called. “Come, come, COME!”

  Goosebumps appeared on her arms, as the velvety voice continued, sounding like the perfect chime of a music box---striking some far off chord of memory, with exact perfectness. Images of her parents called out to her in the fog---images of all those who had left her behind.

  “Ivoryyy! Come. Come to me,” they called out to her.