by Peter Hartz
“Sergeant Bradenton,” Mark Kalinski spoke up as he got within hearing range of the two people looking over the railing, “Will you introduce me, please?”
Andrew turned somewhat quickly at the familiar voice, relieved that he was finally able to turn the Queen over to someone much higher up in the official political food chain. As he turned, Delara turned with him to face the Chief of the Bloomington police department.
Mark’s breath caught in his throat as he looked upon the face of the woman in front of him, and he realized that she was not, in fact, human. The ears were the dead giveaway, he decided. No one would ever be able to make fake ears that perfect. The delicate structure was graceful and unlike anything he had ever imagined. Then he realized that Bradenton was speaking to him, and focused on the officer in front of him.
“… and Chief Mark Kalinski, I present to you Her Majesty, Queen Delara of the Elven Throne.” He bowed slightly, then stepped back, getting out of the conversation slightly, but still close enough to be at hand if needed.
“Police Chief Mark Kalinski, it is an honor to meet you. As I have said to your good sergeant, I apologize for not sending word on ahead of my visit, but my people have no representatives here through which to present such notice, and I am young and impetuous enough to simply ignore propriety and rush in. I see now that this has quite possibly caused a stir amongst your peoples, and I apologize for it,” the Elven Queen said in a somewhat contrite tone of voice, but the smile on her face showed her good humor at the situation. He was about to speak up, but she continued onwards.
“Your Sergeant Bradenton has been the vision of courtesy and respect. I commend you for the honorable way your guardsman has greeted us. He is to be valued.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Mark decided to grant her the benefit of the doubt as to her royal status. He had no idea how she got here, or where she was from, but she certainly wasn’t human. Everything about her screamed different, even alien, but the whole situation was so far outside his normal realm of experience and expectations that he was having trouble processing what was happening here.
Then he saw who was alongside the Queen, and glanced over at the Mayor, who was engaged in a conversation with the huge, red-skinned non-human. The look on Geoff Smith’s face almost caused him to lose his mind with laugher, but he held it together barely. Then he glanced up at the massive minotaur, and swallowed, taking in the fierce bull face and horns, the long red hair braided down one side of his head and over his shoulder, the massive muscles, and, most importantly, the massive war hammer slung on a leather strap over the shoulder of the impossible being.
“Ahh, Your Majesty, is this being behind you with your party?” He was amazed at the level, even tone of voice the question came out in, given that he was almost certain his knees were a little weak and his hands were shaking.
“Yes?” The queen looked over her shoulder, and smiled fondly at her chief bodyguard, then looked back at the human in front of her, who was trying gamely to pull his eyes back to her.
“Yes, this is Karonashkk. He is my personal bodyguard when I travel away from the Elven Throne. When I am back there, he is my chief jailer and the head of the guard force assigned to protect me in my home. He is, well, unless you threaten me or my companions or guards, he is gentle. And he loves children. He will play with them until everyone is tired enough to sleep the night through. And, he is my poet when I am in need of words to express myself.”
Karonashkk stepped up and looked down at Mark, who was a good six foot and two inches tall, without looking down on him. His smile was warm and genuine, and he held out a massive hand in greeting.
Mark reached to take it, but before he was able to grasp the hand coming towards him, it reached past his hand and gently grasped his forearm in a warrior’s greeting, something he remembered from his time in the Army Special Forces on deployment to such interesting locales all those years ago. He smiled as he returned the gesture, clasping his fingers onto, but not around, the Minotaur’s thick forearm in greeting.
“I am honored to meet you, good sir. And I am amazed at this building you humans have made here. I could spend days here, and still not see everything,” Karonashkk said with amazement, and Mark smiled.
“We sometimes wonder how many people would be willing to stay here day and night if it was open all the time. It is a pretty great place, but it can be a headache to keep the peace here,” Mark said, wondering why he was being so forthcoming. Then that little analytical place in the back of his head told him he was mentally off balance, and he smiled as he tried to center himself.
“I was told there was a Goddess around here as well?” He inquired politely, and the Queen nodded.
“Her name is Anaradelle. She is the Human Goddess of Children, Fertility, and Nature.” The queen spoke gently, as if to not cause offense to the deity.
Things were suddenly much clearer to the chief of police. Sometime earlier, he had heard Anaradelle’s pronouncement in his mind, and had wondered what his subconscious was coming up with this time. He had errant, random thoughts bubble up into his mind from who knows where from time to time, and he always wondered what was going on with that. It didn’t happen all that often, but it did come up once in a while, and had been since he was a teenager. By the time Anaradelle had made her statement, he had become so used to it, he just thought it was his mind up to its usual tricks, and moved on efficiently, as he had so many times in recent memory.
Now, though, he reevaluated that memory, in light of the Queen’s statement identifying the deity in question.
The queen continued, “She came through the gate that my son called to bring us to this plane, at the invitation of Michelle Wilhelm, who herself has recently ascended to Deus. I am not certain, but from her actions and mannerisms, Anaradelle may have been here to this plane before.”
“She is really a goddess?” Mark’s professional skepticism was still stubbornly demanding equal time with his slowly growing sense of wonder at what was happening around him, and it tried to gain control as it forced the question out of him.
“Oh yes. She certainly is that. She is a Mid-Goddess. There are few Mid-Deus more powerful on any plane. We do not know her age, or when she ascended to become a deity. Most deities are much younger, and there are records of when they ascend.
“Anaradelle is ancient, possibly the oldest in any plane. I would advise you be gentle and respectful to her. She brooks no disrespect. She has already dealt harshly here with one mortal who slapped her.” The serious tone in Delara’s voice almost made him step back as he tried to gage the truth of what was being said to him. He found no indications of any falsehood, and that made him frown in grim concentration.
“There is another here, as well, but she is keeping to herself. I am certain she will reveal herself when she has come to terms with her new nature.”
Mark’s mind tried to come to terms with what he was being told, but the concept of a female deity was difficult to process. But what to do next was decided for him as a female being with pure white skin and hair, with eyes so pale that their yellow color glowed with internal light that reminded him of the sun, drifted through the air past the police officers and security guards who were trying, with some success, to keep the mall customers away from the commotion. She headed towards the center of the Queen’s group of guards, her companions.
She came to land next to the queen herself, off to the chief’s left, and the slight, almost delicate form of what could only be the Goddess Anaradelle observed him silently for a short moment. Then she turned to Delara, and spoke to her in a language the chief didn’t understand that was full of lilting words and graceful transitions from sound to sound.
Delara noticed Mark’s lack of comprehension, and motioned to one of her Elven guardswomen, who stepped closer, and reached into a pouch at her hip. The guardswoman pulled out some brown grasses and a couple small leaves, and closed her hand around them, chanting a brief phrase in that same tongue. T
he contents of her hand disappeared in a small flash, and the guardswoman held out her hand to the police chief as if in greeting.
When their hands touched, a brief spark left his hand tingling as the guardswoman pulled her hand back, and then Delara held out her hand to Mark, while still facing Anaradelle as she listened to the Goddess speaking to her. He took her hand, and with another tingle, he suddenly could understand everything the Goddess was saying to the queen.
“…and I must leave you here now because of it. I have much to do on this plane to return it to some semblance of how things should be under my guidance. I am, as always, available to you should you have need. Just call to me as you have in the past, and I will come to you as soon as I am able, my child.”
Delara bowed her head briefly in acknowledgement, and Anaradelle turned to Mark. She smiled warmly at him for a moment then simply disappeared in an instant. He felt a brief current of air as her physical form vanished and air rushed in to fill the sudden empty space that she left behind.
The crowds watching the impossible event in front of them gasped as the goddess disappeared into thin air, and more people were moving into the area all the time to see for themselves what was being reported by their friends and family members, as social media and Twitter accounts began to fill with reports of the happening. The officers and guards suddenly found themselves trying to hold back the tide in their efforts to evacuate the area, as more people flowed in for every group that agreed to leave. Not many were willing to go, though.
Mark turned to Delara, and asked, “Is she always that way?”
Delara smiled as Mark spoke in the language the Goddess had just been using. Mark’s eyes got very wide, and his face went a little pale as he realized he spoke in a language he had never heard until just moments ago.
Geoff looked at his friend in utter shock, unable to say a word as the alien words that had just come from Mark’s mouth came to him. He stepped up to Mark, and asked, “What did you just say?”
Mark was still trying to collect his thoughts when the question hit him, and he turned to the mayor of the city and said, “Huh? What?”
Geoff tried to throttle a laugh as his highly intelligent and well-educated police chief was at a loss for words, something he had never seen from the incredibly unflappable man who never seemed to be fazed by anything.
“Mark, you need a moment, pal?”
“No, I think I’m good. Your Majesty, what just happened?” He made sure the question came out in English so that Geoff could follow it this time.
“My guardswoman cast a spell on you, which let you learn the language of the next person you touched,” Delara spoke in English. “That next person was me. You now speak my Elven tongue. The mages that study such things say there are limits to it. Your skill in the new language is limited by how much you have learned of your own tongue, and how much I have learned of mine. I am considered to be among the best-spoken of my people, so I am the best choice. But were you not a good and honorable being, I would have not had my guard cast the spell.”
The explanation was simple enough, and Mark understood it on the surface, but the deeper implications were impossible to understand in their entirety in the moment. A simple spell could enable someone to learn an entire language, fully to the level of their own abilities and that of the person they touched? Mark’s mind spun at the thought.
Then he turned to Delara, and said, “If anyone should have that ability, it should be Geoff Smith, here. Let me introduce you. Delara, I present Geoff Smith. He is mayor of the city in which this shopping center is located. Mister Mayor, may I present to you Her Majesty Delara, Queen of the Elven Throne.”
Geoff had some previous experience with greeting visiting nobility, as was required by the presence of the largest shopping mall in the United States of America in his city; it was a requirement of being in the office with which he was elected. Of course, the people from the U.S. State Department had never envisioned a queen of a different intelligent race of beings happening to be one of them, he was fairly certain.
People Who Knew Such Things had always informed him ahead of a critical visit, and at that time told him that he needed to read up on what protocols he was expected to know ahead of time, before such a visit were to take place. Of course, this situation deviated in a couple of significant ways from what would normally happen. For one, he would have been told quite a while in advance that such a visit would be taking place. And two, the visiting dignitary would have been accompanied by someone from the State Department to make introductions. He nearly smiled while in the impossible situation at the thought that the U.S. Secretary of State was not doing a good job this time. Still, he had his manners and his past experience to fall back on.
“Your Majesty, It is an honor to welcome you to our city.” He bowed his head and upper body briefly, then straightened up again.
“Please, call me Delara. I am not in my formal throne room, and all these titles simply serve to prop up the ego of a being that has no need of such things.” Delara motioned to the guardswoman, who repeated the spell on Geoff. Then the queen reached out her hand, and Geoff, unsure if it was the right thing to do, but not willing to insult the woman in front of him if he refused, took it in a brief shake while a tingle shot up his arm and into his head.
Delara seemed unconcerned about protocol or how things should be done, however. She continued on with the conversation.
“This is a magnificent building we are in, is it not? Your people are indeed master builders and makers. I have seen a Suburban carriage, the offices of Michelle and David’s merchant company in the center of your town, and the impossibly tall buildings there. My son has told us some things about this place, and while every bit of it so far has been true, none of it was complete. I shall have to speak at length with my difficult child, and ascertain why he has been so evasive.”
The youngster in question stepped forward at that moment, and bowed formally and briefly to his mother, something that earned him a smile and a light slap on the shoulder for his trouble.
“Mother, would you have believed me if I had spoken true? Or would you have simply decided I had spent too much time in my cups, taken with ale?”
A somewhat overly-dramatic, long-suffering sigh escaped the queen. “Ah, my son, you have learned much in your three hundred and more summers of life, but I see the simplest things still escape you. I see I must have my Minotaur chastise you once more, as he did when you were young.”
The massive being appeared at Delara’s shoulder as if he teleported there, moving so silently that even the elven guards who knew him seemed to be surprised. Karonashkk bent down to Giltreas and glared at him for a moment, then spoke up in English.
“Don’t do that again. Behave yourself, child! This is your mother! And your queen! And the woman who once chased you as a child across the breadth of her city for hiding her crown! Don’t forget what happened that time.” The tone of voice might have been quelling, but the huge smile on Karonashkk’s face as he failed to maintain his composure gave away what he was really thinking.
“I seem to recall that working out for everyone, my old friend.” The gentle voice was soft, but the smile on the man’s face was anything but.
Delara sighed and turned back to Geoff. “I must introduce my offspring, I see. Giltreas, this is Geoff, the mayor of this city. And Geoff, this is my miscreant, idle, lay-about, barbarian son, who never ceases in his efforts to make me fervently wish that I’d had a girl child.”
Giltreas simply laughed lightly and held out his hand to Geoff. Geoff tried to keep a straight face as he relaxed inside, shaking hands with the unusual looking man in front of him.
“It is an honor to meet you, Prince Giltreas.” Gil shook his head at the greeting.
“I am no prince. I have no titles, nor claim to the Throne, nor any interest in such, and it is best for all concerned that way. I am happy enough to simply be Giltreas, or Gil, if you prefer.”
“Gil i
t is, then. It is an honor to meet you. Did she say that you are over three hundred years old?”
“I have seen three hundred and twenty-six summers. Because of that, I am still considered to be young and impetuous by my mother. She feels that I must reach something closer to her eight hundred and more summers before my judgment is to be trusted. I, of course, have no arguments with my ancient, decrepit progenitor, who may, herself, need to live another thousand summers before she realizes that I am old enough to dress myself without assistance.”
Karonashkk leaned forward. “For myself, I am not sure you will ever able to. What are you wearing?” he asked with a smile.
“You should have a care at what you say. I happen to know what you have on under that wrap, my friend.”
Karonashkk just laughed. Then he turned and looked at the growing crowd that was gathering around them. The sounds of the mall, previously echoing with the shouts and laugher of children on the rides and the games below them, and the sounds of people walking and talking as they went about their business at the huge facility, were slowly growing more silent as word spread about the strange people and the even stranger being with the head of a bull and dark red skin that accompanied them. The sounds of the crowd gathered to observe the spectacle they were creating, however, was something else. While it was not yet getting ugly, an undercurrent that the Minotaur could not quite identify seemed to be there just below the surface, and it concerned him. He decided that it was not something to act upon yet, but it bore watching, just the same.
One braver young boy, maybe eight years old, broke free from his mother’s grip, while she struggled to carry some bags and control a stroller, and ran forward towards him, only to slow as he got closer. The young boy looked up at the huge being who that bent gently down to appear less threatening, before descending carefully to his knees. With his head now just about eye level to the boy, he smiled, without moving forward. He was used to seeing fear in a human’s eyes as they saw his race for the first time, which would usually departed when he started to speak, or shortly thereafter. These humans, if Giltreas was to be believed, though, had never seen anyone like him before, and he decided to be very gentle and careful. He had learned a long time ago that it was important to dispel fears, rather than reinforce them.