by Greg Curtis
“Callenar!” With a single word his secret was out of the bag as she named him a dark elf brother, and immediately the temperature in the clearing fell and things became suddenly shadowy as though the sun had gone behind a cloud. The soldier’s hand went instantly to his long bow while the guard’s hand went to the hilt of her sword, but neither drew them. Possibly because he had not drawn his. Indeed, he continued to sit there on the porch, peacefully waiting for them. That was not what dark elves did, or at least in their minds. Besides, they had reason for coming to see him, and to do battle presumably wasn’t it.
“I prefer Alan.” Though he’d expected it, he was disappointed by her actions, and in truth more by the way she almost flinched in his presence as if he was in truth the dark one come to take her away. A wizard should know a wizard, and grant at least some respect for their magic. But he tried to put a pleasant face on the rudeness shown him. It wasn’t after all, a surprise. Neither was the fact that they didn’t respond to his quip. They just stood there, staring at him and wondering what to do. Which left him needing to make the next move.
“Remember you came to seek me out, not the other way around, and had I chosen, you would not be here now.” Just to emphasize his point he casually waved his hand and they watched a dozen earth elementals rise out of the ground before them. Their faces lightened a few shades as the gigantic creatures appeared out of nowhere. It was after all an impressive display of magic, especially to those who didn’t know what elementals were, but as the elementals simply stood there impassively rather than attacking them and they realized they weren’t going to, they allowed themselves to hear his words. That did not mean however that they would listen.
“Dark one do you seek to destroy us? If so prepare for a fight!” The soldier, still with his hand on his bow, seemed anything but impressed by his magic. He actually seemed angered by it instead, as if he was the one wronged all these years. The terrible thing was that Alan could see the stain on his soul created by all the years of his duty. He had killed dark elves before, and he had done it not out of hatred or fear, but out of duty. He thought of Alan’s kind as little more than diseased animals needing to be put down to protect the others. It was a terrible thing, but Alan knew he was far from alone. Somehow he put aside his anger as he spoke to the soldier. He needed to hear why they had come to bother him, and a battle would preclude that.
“Soldier, if I wished you dead you would have been dead an hour or more ago when you first entered my lands. There would be no fight. If I wished your soul as your misguided tales would have you believe, and assuming I could take such a thing, it would already be mine. And was I a vampire or thrall, you would long since have become a lifeless corpse.”
“I am neither a soul sucker nor a servant or follower of the demons, and despite the ample cause your people have given me, I have no wish to harm you.” They could clearly see the first for themselves, and the rest seemed unlikely as well, since sooner or later the servants and followers of the demons became completely otherworldly themselves as the Everliving’s poison seeped into them and changed them. Besides, demon followers didn’t live in such homes as his. If they needed shelter they took whatever was available. They cared nothing for beauty, only for the life and souls they could suck from others.
“For the moment it is a pleasant early spring morning, the sun is shining and its gentle warmth fills the land. My land, which you are passing through as you seek me out. I have prepared you tea and some light refreshments as is your people’s custom, and I would have some conversation with you rather than hostility. I would think that since you sought me out, you might wish the same. And as for the ex-royal guard beside you, she already owes me her life, and the life of her charge. I did rather keep the huntsmen and their dogs from their backs. Not precisely an evil act. Or had you forgotten?” He stared directly at her and watched her flinch as she realized the truth of his words and slowly knew she had to admit them.
“Tis true dark lord - Alan as you prefer. I thank you as does Riana the daughter of Lord Fontalli and his wife, and heir to the throne after the baron, now that he has murdered them both.”
‘Dark lord?’, the term made Alan’s teeth clench. Just what did she think he was? He actually preferred knave as she had addressed him last. But in the end Alan ignored the comment knowing there was little point in adding to the upset between them. There were other things to discuss.
“Baron Umbria has killed his sister and brother in law?” Alan was surprised and appalled by the crime, and yet he understood the reason for the Baron’s evil only too well. Since he had apparently taken his own throne by force, the Baron’s own flesh and blood had obviously become threats to him. He had no heirs of his own, therefore his sister’s family had become the next in line, and there would have been plenty who would have stood behind them simply to get rid of him. But still, to kill his own kin, among them a child, that was beyond evil.
“You did well to get the child out of there.” He nodded to her, knowing it couldn’t have been easy when the baron’s own soldiers were no doubt everywhere, killing anyone who looked like a threat, and especially any of the royal guard who didn’t look completely obedient. Which was likely to be all of them. Their title was old, an anachronism to days long past when Calumbria had truly had a king, but their service was to the kingdom, not the king. Which was why the baron had always had his own private army.
“Thank you.” She nodded back her appreciation almost automatically, politeness being almost ingrained in both elves and the royal guard, before remembering again that he was a dark elf, the first and truest enemy of her people as they foolishly believed, and froze. He guessed it was one thing she’d never imagined doing in her whole life, but then she’d probably never imagined meeting one of his kind either. The Callenar, or dark elves as they were more commonly known were very few in number. Either that, or as he had long known, they were very good at hiding as their brothers and sisters hunted them down.
“There is no need for thanks. I speak only the truth. Now please, for the third time I ask you, kindly take a seat and enjoy my hospitality while you tell me why you have sought me out. Before this becomes embarrassing. Or leave in peace if you prefer. I assure you again, I mean you no harm provided you come in peace and leave the same way.” He gestured once more at the table and chairs, and this time was offered some small measure of politeness as the ex-royal guard first approached him cautiously, and then took a seat on the other side of the table from him. He noticed that she kept her hands as far away from him as possible and didn’t even touch the cup in front of her. Clearly she considered him much the same as she would anyone else filled with disease.
As custom dictated he poured her a cup of tea from the pot while the others looked on and no doubt wondered if the brew was poisoned. To allay at least those fears, he refilled his own cup as well and took a sip in front of them.
It must have been enough as she took a sip herself, trusting that he wasn’t willing to poison himself, and the other two seeing her not keeling over in front of them, lowered their hands from their weapons and took the remaining seats, while he filled their cups.
“A mixture of rosehip and lemon tea good people, a little stronger than I would normally like but I have been waiting a while longer than I anticipated for you to arrive.” All of which had only served to make it stronger, but with a measure of honey it was still palatable, and soon they were all sipping away, almost relaxing as they enjoyed its aromatic flavours. Almost.
In time and without any more being said, probably since no one really knew what to say, they made a start on the bread and honey, which went down well with the tea, and gradually at least some of the tension left them. The soldier, whoever he was, (for in defiance of normal elven custom none had chosen to share their names with him as yet), still looked at him suspiciously, but he kept his hand away from his weapons even when Alan used the bread knife to cut the bread into thick slices. That had to be a good sign.
“It is a pleasant day for a journey?” It wasn’t much as conversation openers went, but then Alan had little experience in such matters, least of all with elves. He didn’t really know what to say, except that his father had taught him it was always best to seem to be in control even when you weren’t. That was one of the lessons every knight should learn.
“Tell me of yourself.” Alde, the wizardess and priestess as she had described herself didn’t answer his question but asked another and seemed genuine in her interest. And for a heartbeat Alan nearly answered her. But then he realized, it all seemed a bit too comfortable, too relaxed and friendly, too easy. It was almost as if he was being accepted by his kin, and that was wrong. Very wrong. They would never accept such a one as him and he would be a fool to believe that they would, much as he might want it some days. He would not be a fool again.
“I’m sorry good elf, but that I will not do. Once when I was a lad and shortly after the untimely death of my parents, I would have. I would have done anything to be welcomed among my people as I thought of you, despite all the warnings of my parents. Now that I’m older, now that I’ve experienced the enmity and loathing you have for me based on nothing but the shade of my gold, I no longer want such a thing. I will never be welcome among the elves of any woodland nation, and I am stronger for that knowledge, just as your people are weaker without my kin and me. Besides, I do not entirely trust you either and knowledge is power.”
“For now I am Alan Feralis. Kindly tell me why you have sought me out, and let us leave it at that.” His refusal was surprising and blunt to the point of rude, especially if Alde was as she had said a priestess of the woodland path, but it was the right thing for Alan to do. And equally it had taken half an hour together with tea and food to get as much as their names out of the three of them. Why should he be any more open?
“Those are not elven names.” She seemed surprised, though she surely didn’t even know what names dark elves might choose. Like all her people she knew next to nothing about dark elves, except that they were hated, feared and that they should kill them on sight.
“No. They are human as was my father.”
“Sir Reginald Feralis the Protector was your father?” Damn! Trust Cathaylee to know that, but being half human herself and a former member of the royal guards, she had probably heard of his father during her own training. After all, he was once the head of the Calumbria Chapter of the Paladins of the Order of the Creator, and they trained the guard in their duties. Half his secrets were already out. Still he nodded, acknowledging the truth. He would never deny his family.
“He was a great man.”
“He was, and an even greater father. I miss him dearly.”
“A brave man. They said he fell in combat against the hordes of the scavengers.” It was an only too kind name for the orcish and trollish offspring of human women who had been carried off and raped by their fathers, and then cast out of even the troll tribes. Alan actually had some sympathy for them. Like him half trolls were outcast everywhere. Unlike him though, they tended to hang together in packs of highwaymen or bandits - the bards called them wolves - and plunder travellers and outlying farmers.
“Nay, he survived that battle, and returned to my mother and I in our summer home to rest up from his wounds after a dozen of the foul half troll brigands had been returned to the ground by his sword. They were both murdered a week later by the true Callenar just as he was regaining his fitness to return to the Order. Poisoned arrows felled them both as they slept. They are both buried in the back yard at the foot of a cherry blossom tree.”
“The true Callenar?” Alan sighed as he realized he’d told them something else they didn’t know and would be curious about. Of course he knew when he told them that they wouldn’t want to hear it, and wouldn’t want to believe him when they did, and yet he had no choice. They should know. They should have known for two long centuries.
“Despite your beliefs Alde, few of the dark elves still support the ways of the Everliving. Few ever did. Our people were destroyed by them two hundred and more years ago, our towns and cities levelled, our lands devastated and our kin murdered and worse, and most that survived those terrible wars rejected the teachings of the demon loving elders from the start. More than that, we loathe and detest those who murdered our people. After all, when you have watched your entire family be killed, your towns and cities destroyed by others of your kin transformed into life sucking demons, it’s hard to understand the attraction of such evil.”
“Sadly a few still cling to the teachings and retain a fraction of the power, remember some of the magic, some of the evil. Most notably the priests and acolytes or in truth their descendants. They were already far gone at the time, well under the Everliving’s sway, and it seems they no longer cared about their kin, a trait they passed on to their children. The tragedy is that most dark elves have to band together to survive given that the rest of their cousins reject them so strongly, and those who remember and perhaps even follow the evil ones still have useful magic to help one and all hide. Thus all are branded with the same iron. We are dark because our skin carries copper as well as silver and gold, but not because we consort with the Everliving.”
“But then -”
“Yes Ulnor, you and your fellow elves have been hunting and killing innocent elves these last centuries. Slaughtering your brothers and sisters. You are a murderer. But then you would have known that had you ever stopped to ask your victims what crimes they had committed instead of launching arrows into their flesh because of the shade of their gold.” He was harsh with Ulnor, but then he felt he had the right to be. Because of him and people like him, his mother had had to live her life in hiding, even married to a paladin. She, the living embodiment of elven virtue. Because of them his family had had to live outside of the safety of the large cities, within the grasp of their enemies. It was stunning just how much anger he suddenly found within him for Ulnor and his friends, and he had to control it.
“You’ve been killing dark elves!” Alde turned on her companion, shocked by the very idea of an elf killing others, let alone killing another elf, even a dark elf. And the worst of it was that Ulnor could not lie, and he stared at them, caught like a dear in the firelight. Elves were raised from birth to be unfailingly honest, and deception was not something they did well at all.
“Do not judge him any more harshly than the others of your people. There are many among the rangers, border patrols and scouts who do the same. They believe they are protecting their kin, and they put aside the law, propriety and any thought of justice in the name of safety. They hunt my mother’s family down like animals, for no crime other than their birth. And they force those of my kin who would never accept the Everliving’s ways to live among those who do for protection. In their fear and hatred they drive them into the arms of the demon servants themselves. It is just another evil the dark elves must face.”
“Worse though, but only just, are the followers of the Everliving themselves. They do not take kindly to those among their people who choose to defy them. Who choose to denounce them. Who choose to leave. Those they hunt with a vengeance as powerful as that of Ulnor and his henchmen, and though their masters are gone, long since returned to the demon realm and beyond their reach, they still have some strength and some followers. It is a cruel life for a dark elf.” Wh
ich it was, and yet many of his kin had learned to hide exceedingly well and travel very widely, though he didn’t mention that to the others. For all he knew, Ulnor and his cronies would start hunting them across the lands if they realised. Being exposed for murderers would not necessarily make them any more friendly to their prey.
“And how do we know you do not follow the demon?” Ulnor was defending himself the only way he knew how; by striking back, and Alan couldn’t entirely blame him. The alternative was to know himself as a criminal and evil doer. He raised his right hand to the sun, fingers splayed as was proper, while his left he laid flat, palm down on the small wooden table.
“In this day, in this place I show my truth. Born of the Sky Father and the Earth Mother, I live under the eyes of the one and within the arms of the other. And born of their truth I speak this one truth – I do not serve the Everliving. Instead I name them my mortal enemy.” He watched Ulnor’s normal golden skin colour fade several shades as he made his declaration in the time honoured fashion, because even he knew that no servant of the Everliving demons would ever have dared say such a thing. It wasn’t that they had any particular fear of either the Sky Father or the Earth Mother, it was that the Everliving did. Like any demon they would never allow their servants to speak the names of any gods before them, lest they draw their attention to them. And to swear an oath against them, that was a hundred times worse.