ELO

by E. A. Cross

  Joltrun voice was grave. He said, "we must use your powers to open a portal and go to the fae graveyard, we can still use the queen's power and the fairies to do it. Bree can use her wild magic on the source and drive out the miasma." Faelorn looked at Joltrun. "Do you think that's why they passed...to enable us to open a portal?" Joltrun nodded. "That is how the queen's lotus travels. It simply hops through dimensions to get to where the queen wants to go. If you have the queens seed, then you control where the fairies go…" Bree swallowed. "Then why couldn't they go themselves." Joltrun touched the seed.

  "They were too weak, but if their child was to be born. It would reset their body, making them strong again. With you in control, we no longer have to fight our way to the gravesite." Bree took a deep breath. She cradled the queen's seed. “Then let's do it." While the fairies gathered, Joltrun accompanied them. They circled the group, Faelorn stood in the middle. Elo came down from the cave, she carried Bree's pack. She exclaimed," Tharin told me everything. Here put the seed in your pack. Let's strap it to your chest like a baby. That way, it won't get in the way of your bow and arrow."

  Bree solemnly wore the seed buttoning the makeshift carrier. Thanking Elo, she turned back to the

  fairies. She signed, "Let's go, please take us to the fae graveyard." She looked to Faelorn, "are you sure the monster will come." Faelorn's face was grim. "I don't doubt it. The graveyard is where it all began, now it is where it ends." Faelorn transformed entirely into a beast; he let out a call, and the fairies joined him in his cry. They all resonated, and then the fairies were alight with green energy, wild magic leaped from Faelorn. The ground beneath Faelorn glowed and then shifted. There was a flash of bright blinding light, and Bree had to blink a few times. A window opened, and Faelorn gestured for her and the others to follow. Bree stepped forward and into the dark window. Bakura, Tharin, and Joltrun followed her. It was just like passing through the barrier into Tharin's castle.

  The light was gone, and Bree found herself and the others in darkness. Bree looked around. The group of fairies that opened the circle were still with them. They swarmed by Bree's head protectively. Bakura shifted to her human form and shook her staff; the staff was alight with golden fire. Bree blinked and was shocked to be surrounded by bones all around her. Bones were piled to the ceiling and walls and under their feet. Faelorn lead the way through the catacomb-like structure. He called, "come this way, to my mother's grave, we should search for my brother Anon there." The group stuck close together. Bakura held her torch. She said, “I hate this place, I've only been here once before, and it is no more improved than it was then."

  Tharin and Joltrun flanked Bree as they followed Faelorn. Tharin lectured, "This was once a palace, ruled by an elven king. Its history is lost; some say that this place has to do with the separation. Where all worlds where once was one, now they are all separate. Accept for the forest. As to why this place became a graveyard for the fae to come to die, I will never know. This is part of the history that my people destroyed. I suspect my ancestor elves did something stupid and horrible. Perhaps the Gods put a curse on this palace to be filled with the bodies of the dead fae. The air was dry and dusty, bones crunched beneath their feet as Faelorn transformed into a half stag. His vines whipped out defensively, ready to strike like snakes.

  The palace was now an underground cavern, the white column of marble held up walls of crystal. Carvings of ancient beast greeted them. Bree flinched when the passed by several sarcophagi.

  Tharin spoke, "they're elfish..." Bree signed nervously, "I thought your kind was immortal." Tharin answered, "We are…" Bree didn't like the implication that his answer made. She shuddered and continued forward.

  Finally, after an hour of tranversing the catacombs, Faelorn lead his way to what looked like a courtyard. "Everyone protect Bree. I can feel it. I couldn't before..." Bree shivered; she heard it too. It was the beating of a heart. Faelorn closed his eyes, and his vines grew and grew, burrowing into the soils. In moments with a yell of strength, Faelorn pulled a coffin from the ground.

  Everyone stepped back as he unearthed his mother's grave. Faelorn grunted, dropping the coffin.

  The casket was sealed with two thick black chains, miasma was pouring from the coffin. Faelorn broke the chains and opened the coffin without hesitation. Bree stared at the open casket. The contents looked like a dead skeletal wraith. It’s body was gaunt and decayed, but it was stretched impossible long. Bree couldn't believe that it had once even been human. The corpse was wearing a tattered white veil. Bree shuddered, thinking of her dreams; miasma was leaking from a raw beating heart.

  Joltrun examined the corpse, he said, "She is still in a state of death, the miasma is sucking the life from the forest; this must have been your brother's attempt at necromancy to revive her. He must have killed some poor human." Faelorn grit his teeth. “Bree… use your magic. Lift the miasma from the heart, then I will ensure that this heart will stop beating once more."

  Bree started shaking suddenly. Her throat burned; she had a headache.

  Her mind flashed, "hold her down, hold her down. Hurry…." Bree was tied down, and above her was the icy eyed man. He hissed, "I need her heart," Bree clutched her chest; Faelorn looked at her horrified. Bree moved the pack with the queen's seed aside.

  Black miasma bled through Bree shirt. Bree screamed, gripping her head.

  The icy eyes man was on top of her; he was everywhere in her mind; he held a dagger above her head.

  He hissed, "slaves obey your master."

  Bree groaned, "no no no…."

  He reached into her chest, and he pulled her heart, replacing it with something black and moving.

  He pressed a claw to her lips. She lay dying, and the monster kissed her, opening her mouth to pour something black and squirming.

  “Shhhhhh, shhhh, our little secret Bree. You'll see," He giggled.

  Bree vomited black, and something came loose from her throat. Faelorn ran to her, he pulled her to his chest. Joltrun screamed, "FAELORN DON'T TOUCH HER..."

  It was too late miasma poured from Bree. From her eyes, from her mouth.

  She could not speak; she could not breathe. There was laughter as Bree collapsed in Faelorn's arms. She looked at him, he had tears in his eyes. A male voice giggled, “Oh, Faelorn, of course, you would fall in love with my little plaything. You always wanted what was mine." Faelorn’s brother smirked as he slithered into the room. Anon was a formless mass, with a white mask at the center of his body. He forced his amorphous body to take the shape of a man made of shadow. His souless eyes gleamed, he said, “Mother needed a heart. I found one. In another world, the descendent of a saint with the power to heal. Of course, she wasn't truly magical; it had long been bred out of her line. It was all me. A piece of me was her conduit. She doesn't even have a heart, as you can see. Just a little puppet. She's not even real, the miasma was keeping her alive." Bree stared at Faelorn, her eyes glossing over, as the miasma was leaving her body.

  Anon growled, “She just an empty meat sack, her soul will probably fade away into a bereaved now that her use is done." Faelorn could not take his eyes off of her. He cried, holding her desperately, "No, Bree, Bree...I love you. Your real; you have to be." Tharin fired an arrow at the icy eyed creature. He ignored him, absorbing the arrow, then he sent a jet of miasma at the elf pinning him to the ground suffocating him.

  Anon giggled as Bakura shot fire from her staff, but another jet of miasma extinguished the light. He opened his mouth and vomited miasma at them. Bakura and Joltrun were entangled in a web unable to move.

  Bree stared blankly. She was far from her body, Faelorn sobbed, holding Bree. "No...no, he's lying. I know you love me. I know your real..." Faelorn raised his vines defensively. Anon hissed, “Bree, give him a kiss, your last gift." Bree, without any control on her own, found that her mouth opened, and a jet of black miasma left her throat and leaped onto Faelorn's face. Faelorn screamed, dropping her, Bree felt the burning in her throat di
ssipate. Faelorn wrestled with a snake-like creature that entered his mouth and eyes. Faelorn turned pale as a sheet, his eyes turned orange, the miasma spread in his body.

  Joltrun, trembling, thrashing screamed.

  "MY BOY….”

  Anon turned to Joltrun. He sneered, "Odd that you would love him like a son, pathetic. Mother taught me a better way, she became the darkness, and it became her. She gave the dark god my soul, and he gave me a new life. The purpose of destroying the spirit of Uhu’rue. I am now one with the demon that I serve."

  Giggling, Anon stood over Bree's body. Bree lay like a broken doll. He laughed, "She played the part, she was so stupid. That's why I picked her; she was in love with the fae. I didn't think..." he scurried over to Faelorn. "I didn't think that Faelorn would be taken with her, though."

  The creature grinned as he sank into Faelorn's flesh. He dissolved becoming thosands of particles. He said,

  “That only makes him easier to control, easier to corrupt. Isn't that right, brother." Faelorn's body moved, his mouth opened, and the rotting creature that called itself Anon burrowed its way inside Faelorn's body. Bree lay dying. The fairies that had come with her died immediately as the miasma spread to them. Bree watched as Bakura freed her staff, and with a flash of light, both her and Joltrun escaped. Bree could not move, her life ebbed away.

  Anon said sliding his mask over Faelorn's face, “Well, they can only run so far. The old Lord of the Forest still possesses the last piece of the spirit of Uhu’rue…" Bree stared at what appeared to be Faelorn speaking but was not. “A horrible voice from the coffin hissed.

  “Get him, boy…. bring him home to your mother."

  Faelorn turned his eyes were glowing orange, his vines blacked with miasma.

  Anon's voice came from Faelorn's mouth. "With pleasure," he hissed. Faelorn's body began to transform as the miasma converged around him; he turned into slithering serpent. His torso was that of a man, and his face was a white skull of a stag. The giant beast turned and, with one arm, picked up the coffin and slithered out of the catacombs leaving Bree to finally die.

  Chapter 28

  Bree lay in the darkness; she took her last breath, unable to move. Just as her eyes closed, she felt something shift in her chest. Pain raced through her entire body. She was jolted back to life, gasping for breath. Bree forced her eyes open, she fought for air desperately. Bree saw green in her blurry vision. She sat up; she was not in the catacombs anymore. Tharin was lying beside her, the miasma was gone from his face. Bree gripped her chest, looking down her shirt. The fairy queen's seed was burrowing through the skin and had moved to where Bree's heart should be. Bree shuddered and took another huge breath. Her body felt pins and needles all over. Bree looked at her hands; the miasma was gone from her body. She took a deep breath. Bewildered, she checked her body. She was alive, the warmth returned to her hands as the pin and needles feeling left. She felt the scar on her arm and touched her throat, the pain was gone.

  Bree looked at her surroundings, her vision became clearer. Bree saw that she was enveloped by darkness, green light was coming from behind her. She turned she saw the King’s Spirit. There was light enumerating from the Spirit of the King's body. He stood looking at her, a spirit of all nature.

  "Hello, Bree..." Bree coughed, she felt the burning in her throat was gone. "Hi..." she signed, crying; the spirit came closer. "Why do you cry, Bree?" Bree trembled miserably, sitting up. She signed, "I didn't know that I wasn't alive. I didn't know it was all a trap for Faelorn."

  Bree could hardly say his name. She held her head in her hands.

  "Bree… do you want to stay in my forest?"

  Bree wiped her eyes "yes… but now it's gone."

  The king's spirit said, "The forest has not lost hope yet. The game the darkness is playing is nothing more than an illusion. Bree, you were cursed to be the source of the miasma. I blessed you to be a cure for the forest." Bree gripped her chest; the fairy seed started thumping like a heart. "What's the point? Faelorn is bereaved. I don't have real magic. It was all a lie...made up by that monster." The king loomed into the infinite dark, as he breathed, grass sprouted, and flowers bloomed, insects flew from nothingness. "Bree, you always had a gift for healing. That dreadful creature wants you to believe that you are powerless. All of his power is the power he robbed from your soul. You bring life, Bree, you help heal. The servant of the enemy sought to twist your natural gift. You are what my forest needs; the realms will open one day, and there will be much healing, much evil to destroy. I want you, Bree, to stop it. It's your purpose to restore the broken realms…."

  Bree stared. "Do you accept your purpose, Bree? The one I want to give to you. Stay and live in my forest. Grow, bring humanity to the fae. So that they can grow too." Bree clutched her chest; the fairy seed started pumping blood into her once-dead body. She still felt stiff and cold, and each breath was labored. Bree looked at the King. "Do you accept me, Bree, as your King?"

  Bree looked at God. Staring at him was like staring into infinity, stars moved in his eyes, and his head was surrounded by a crown of thorns.

  "Yes. I accept." Bree felt tears in her eyes. The King looked at her, then bent his head and breathed on her. Bree gasped painfully; she felt alive; her body ached. "Then there is one last thing you must do. You must first defeat your own fear and regret. Follow me..." Bree got up and hurried, following the King. Her body felt light. The King opened a portal and stepped through—they looked down at her old village. Bree stood on the familiar hill. Bree felt cold all over. "You must put an end to your hate and your heartache. You cannot face the darkness if you have those two things inside you. When you sign to your people, they will hear your voice from your hands, not your mouth. It's my gift to you, Bree, you who will become a voice for the voiceless."

  Bree peered through the portal, then turned to the King. "I will be here waiting. You will find the source of your regrets in the village." Bree took a deeper breath. It was heartbreaking to see her old village. It was less than half its size, many parts were still ruined. She could tell that some of it had been rebuilt, here and there. Bree stepped through the portal and set off to face her fears and regrets. Bree arrived at the base of the village. She must look odd, dressed in fine elven clothing, her hair shorn short, and ornate elven weapons strapped to her back. She saw a few villagers who stared at her warily.

  She spoke in their language, she looked like them, but she did not act like them. "Hello..." she signed and mouthed. Men and women wary of her went into their homes or ignored her entirely. Bree saw that her brother's hut was intact. She wandered over, looking over the burnt up ruins. Her brother's rice field, his boats; all were battled scarred or ruined. She wondered if he was even alive. Bree felt eyes on her watching her every movement.

  Bree took a deep breath, tearing her eyes from the destruction. She walked the familiar path of her childhood home, she knocked on the door-less hut. There was no greeting or sound. Bree entered her brother's house and saw a little girl with black hair by the fire. She was stoking it, cooking a fish in a pan. Bree realized that all of her brother riches, they were all gone. The only thing that graced his front room was a banged-up table and a chair. A hand reached for her in the darkness. It grabbed her from behind.

  The voice hissed, "Get out of my home, leave my daughter be." Bree jumped. A man with bandages around his eyes was sitting by the wall. He reeked of alcohol and piss. Bree stared; his legs were stumps, his arms where covered in scabs. He was filthy. The man seethed, "My daughter does not need a husband; she's is too young. Now go..."

  The little girl stared at her. Bree recognized her. It was her niece, but older and hardened. She had been six when Bree had pushed her out of the slaver machine's jaws. She was now twelve.

  Bree realized the man was her brother.

  She said, "Is that how you talk to your sister?"

  He let her go, leaning forward.

  "What did you say? I have no sister. They are all buried in
the cemetery… soon, I will be too."

  Bree cursed, "Derren...its me, Bree." He let her go as if she was a snake.

  He said nothing. "Why have you come back?" She tensed and signed "This was my home. I want to know if anyone survived?" She pushed her anger away. Derren said, "everyone's dead, I'm dying too. The last one of our father's bloodline is you and her." He gestured to where he assumed his daughter would be. Bree hissed, "I don't care about bloodlines..."

  Derren shook his head, he said, "you never did." An awkward silence hung in the air. Bree looked at her brother at what he had become. He was pathetic, sad. His face scarred. "Why didn't anyone in the village take you in?" She asked. He said, "They blamed me for the attack, I was their leader, and I should have known better." Bree clenched her teeth, seething with hate, tears slid down her face. She said, signing, "Of course, they would do that…" Bree wiped her face. Her voice came from her hands and the symbols that her magic generated. She said, "I hated you for taking my voice. I hated you so much..."

  Derren sneered. "The curse lifted, you sound the same. You still have eyes and legs, right?" Bree wiped her face. "What I learned is that when you truly hate something. You had to have loved it at least once. I loved you, I still do. I never stopped. I always thought that one day you would come around. That we would be best friends again." Derren was taken aback. This was not what he expected. Ara snapped, interrupting "Daddy, she is a witch she talking with her hands, not with her mouth. I can see green letters dancing around her."

  Derren snapped, "Don't speak out of turn, I don't care if she has a mouth on the side of her face." Ara shook with anger and stormed off to sulk in the corner. Derren turned his head as if trying to see her. "Bree, why are you here?" Bree took a deep breath. She said "I'm here to say goodbye. To this cursed village. To grandmother, To our family…." Derren was very quiet for a long moment. Bree noticed his hands where shaking. "Bree, you were right. I shouldn't have cared what others thought. What my wife thought. I should have gone to the forest to be with you. Listening to the villagers, to what the others wanted. It wasn't worth a dam. All I have is an empty hut. A wife that never loved me and left me when I became like this. She didn't even take Ara with her. Just left to her uncle's village, and married someone new."