by Brad Clark
***
Hallendrielle slipped beside Glaerion and took his hand in hers. She moved in close next to him and touched her lips to his cheek.
“Do you remember our marriage ceremony?”
A smile came across Glaerion’s face. “Vividly.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Much has happened since that time. The world has changed.”
“It needs to change again.”
“Yes,” Glaerion said. “Our race has fought it valiantly for five thousand years. But our place in history left us so long ago.”
“No, we left. Remember? We chose to leave, to go into hiding, or exile, or whatever this life is. But we are here just existing, not living.”
“I know. I know.”
“We are not alone in our thinking. There are many others, but they are too afraid to speak up. That is why this ceremony is so important. The council gets its power from us and can wield it mightily from their chambers underground. But when we are all together, our voices can be finally heard.”
“I feel guilty for manipulating them into this.”
Hallendrielle leaned into him again, her head resting against his shoulder. “Look at them. Does it look like they were manipulated? They are in love, and this is what they need. This is what we all need.”
Chapter Fourteen
The afternoon had flown by in a whirlwind of activity. Once word got out about the pending ceremony, the entire village came together to make it a festival that none would ever forget. Elissa was whisked off with a team of Elven ladies to prepare her for her role. Conner was also segregated from everyone else, having been led by Glaerion and three other Elves through the jungle. When they came upon a grassy clearing, they pulled out fruits and freshly cooked fish from baskets they had carried with them and began eating their lunch.
At first, there was little talk as an air of uncertainty hung over their heads. Conner was the enemy in many of their minds. He was a Human, the race that had fought a vicious war against the Elves, which resulted in their lonely exile. There was little talk, even among the Elves. Conner could feel them staring at him, even though he kept his eyes down low while he ate. Something was missing from their lunch, and he wasn’t sure what it was. He felt very much out of place and was beginning to feel that the whole ceremony idea was a bad one.
He looked around, and none of the Elves gave him any eye contact. Glaerion wasn’t purposely looking away like the others were, as he was watching his fellow Elves.
“I didn’t think that silence was required of the Ceremony of Marriage Witnesses,” Glaerion said. “Kaelak, do you not have anything to say? Your mouth is always running.”
Kaelak gave an uncomfortable shrug of his shoulders. “The food is good.” He then fell back silent and took a bite out of a small, round yellow fruit.
Conner set aside his fears and apprehensions and spoke up. “It feels strange and awkward. I can see it on all your faces, and I am sure you can see it on mine. I appreciate your willingness to serve as my witnesses, but I don’t think it is necessary.”
Another Elf by the name of Horraloral spoke, “It is not surprising that you feel such. The Witnesses of the Groom are typically chosen from among the groom’s friends, and this is a time to share and reflect upon his life. As sacred as the ceremony is, this time is also a special time. It is the last hours of your time as a noncommitted Elf, or in your case, Human. In ancient times, this was the time for the elders of the clans to question the groom to be sure he was ready for the commitment he was about to take. But over the millennia, the questioning became an outdated tradition, and instead of the clan’s elders, the friends of the groom were called to join in the last feast.” A smile slid across his face. “If you feel uncomfortable now, you should have been here in the early days when the elders stood over the groom and badgered him with questions.”
Glaerion looked around at the three Elves he had asked to join him. He was glad that Horraloral spoke first, as he was the eldest of them and was well-respected by most everyone throughout the village. He did not have the clout to ever vie for a seat on the Elven Council, as he was too much of a non-traditionalist, which was why Glaerion had asked him to join their small group. But many others would follow his lead. He wished he could have trusted more than just these three with his plans, but following the rule of law ran deeply within the psyche of the Elven culture. If major changes were to be made, they needed to start small. He just hoped that the three of them would band together with him, else he would end up being a lone outcast of outcasts.
“I want to thank you all for being a part of this ceremony,” Glaerion said. “It is a debt that cannot be repaid. Not many would have the courage to stand up with Conner, but you all are honorable Elves. However, I have other motivations for you being here.” He paused while he took a quick survey of the looks and expressions on the Elves’ faces. There was a hint of surprise and curiosity as they patiently waited for him to continue. “I have asked you here not because Conner needs witnesses to attest to his vows, but because I need your support to convince the Elven Council to change their minds about helping the Humans in their fight against the Deceiver.”
Harraloral’s face soured, but he said nothing.
Nammon, a youthful looking Elf, cleared his throat before he spoke. “Glaerion, do you realize what you are saying? Your words are the words of a traitor. We cannot go against the will of the Elven Council. They were chosen from among the people to serve the people, and their decisions are final. That is the law of the Elves.”
“Well, it is a stupid law,” Kaelak said, still with a mouthful of fruit. “They serve their own interests above that of ours. You know that. It is how it’s always been!”
Nammon jumped up. “They are the wisest among us, and we should not be disputing or second-guessing their judgment. It is not our place to challenge the laws. It is our place to follow the laws and decrees of the council.”
Kaelak stood up and stepped closer to Nammon. “You have always been weak-minded. I know you have desired to sit upon the Council, but no one would ever support you. You don’t have what it takes to make a tough decision or put yourself on the line. You want to live a safe and comfortable life like the rest of this village! You want to continue going on like nothing will ever change, and we will live this existence in the jungle until the end of time. Day after day, we will trudge on, toiling the land and fishing the seas and hunting the jungle. Never will we see the great buildings of our cities again, nor will we build anything like them again. We hide here far away from the world, safe in our exile.”
“That’s right,” Nammon said, himself stepping forward in a threatening manner. “Safe. And alive. If not for our exile, our race would have been exterminated five thousand years ago. Would you rather have had that?”
In a voice that echoed off the trees, Kaelak yelled back, “Yes! I would rather have fought to the end to save our race than to run away and hide.”
Glaerion stepped towards the two hoping that he wouldn’t have to step in between them. Both were superior fighters, and it could get messy if they began to throw kicks and punches.
“I was there, too,” Glaerion said, looking from one to the other. “We were all there, and the decision was not easy, but it was the right one. No one wanted to fight to the death.” His eyes rested on Kaelak. “You can say that you would have fought to the end now, but I know that you would not have. None of us would have. We did not want to see our race just come to an end. We went into exile to save our race for the future.”
Harraloral slowly stood. “Our exile was a farce.”
All eyes turned towards the elder elf. He was as old as any other in the village, having survived not only the wars with the Humans but for thousands of years before that, too.
After clearing his throat, Harroloral continued, “The memory of my youth has long since passed into oblivion. There are some images and impressions that I remember, but mostly it is just a fuzzy th
ought at the very edge of my memories. But the time of our exile, those memories are still there. The war with the Humans was hard on all of us, more so that you can really imagine.” He looked at Conner. “When Humans were young in the world, they were like children, learning so much and so quickly. We watched over them like they were our own, trying to guide them and direct them to be just like us. But they were not like us. The Creator made them different, made them into their own unique beings and many of us, including myself, had a hard time understanding and accepting that. We wanted them to be like us, as we thought that was the one true way to live. In our arrogance, we could not see that the Humans were who they were, living their lives as they saw fit, and not as we wanted them to live. We did not respect them. In our arrogance, we looked down upon them. As I look back upon the time of the Great War, I can see where we went wrong. We could have lived a harmonious life with them, but instead, we tried to push them to be who they were not. And they rebelled and fought back as little children do.” He smiled, let out a sigh, and shook his head. “Even today, I use the analogy of children, and that is the same attitude that caused the rift between our races. We all thought of them as our children, and we treated them as such. But they were not children. Our exile was the easy way out. We ran away, unwilling to change ourselves or our thinking. We thought that who we were was better than who the Humans were. Instead of trying to come to terms with Humans that were our equals, we continued to believe that we were superior and that we could not live with them. Instead of peace, we chose to continue the war. The fighting stopped because we went into the exile, but in truth, the war never stopped. We have lived for these five thousand years, and we’ve still been at war in our minds. And that needs to stop. And now.”
“How do we stop it?” Conner asked.
Harraloral smiled and walked over to Conner and put a hand on his shoulder. “For one, we think of Elves and Humans as we. We must stop it together. We must join together and fight the forces of the Deceiver. We…” he looked around at all the elves. “Must stand together and demand change.”
“There are but five of us,” Conner said. “How can we demand change?”
“I trusted the three of you to be here to discuss what we are about to do,” Glaerion replied. “I know there are others that think like us but are afraid to go against the Elven Council. If we stand firm, then others will join us until there is a majority. Once there is a majority, we can call for a new vote of Council members.”
Harraloral shook his head. “And tear our people in two. We cannot have two factions. We must have one strong voice. Replacing the council members will not get us what we want. It will only get us new figureheads with too much power. But if we all stood together to voice our opposition, the Council will be forced to change their minds. We do not need new leaders. We just need to remind our current leaders who is truly in charge.”
“Your trust in your fellow Elf is admirable,” Glaerion said. “But my time away from this village has changed my perspective. Elves are blind and will continue to travel the same path they know over and over again. Nothing will change until the Deceiver arrives here with his army and then it will be too late. The time for decisions is now, and there is but one decision to be made. We either go with the support of the council, or we go alone.”
“If we go alone, we will never be allowed to come back,” Nammon said. “We will never see our families again. You will never see your wife again.”
“If we don’t go, they will all die anyway,” Conner added. “I have seen their army. I have seen what they can do. If we cannot stop them in our land, you will not be able to stop them here.”
“We have powers that you do not,” Nammon argued. “We have skills and abilities that will allow us to defend our people.”
“The Deceiver has the Ark of Life.”
“Only part of it,” Glaerion said. “Which is why we even have a chance. If he had the full power of the Ark, he could easily conquer the world. But you are naïve, Nammon, to think that the power of the Deceiver is easily defeated. I too have seen the powers of the Deceiver, and I can tell you that we will need both the power of magic and the steel of Humans working together. I see no other option.”
“Glaerion, you have brought us together because you knew we would help you,” Harraloral said. “Nammon, I have heard you grumble about the decision. Now you support staying out of the war?”
Nammon glanced down at the grass and shook his head. “It is easy to grumble and complain when you don’t have to make the decisions. Now that you put it to us, I do not know what I think.”
Harraloral smiled. “Even I question myself, even though I know in my heart that we must help Conner and his fellow Humans. I would be concerned if you didn’t think about the consequences. For then I might think you were a Human!”
They all laughed and chuckled, even Conner.
Nammon looked around at his fellow Elves, studying each one in turn. When his gaze reached Glaerion, he asked, “Okay, Glaerion, what do we do?”
***
The setting sun hovered just over the horizon and was partially hidden by the trees of the jungle to their west. Small lanterns were set up around the center of the village where the ceremony would take place. By the time all the villagers arrived, the lanterns would provide a soft, gentle light for the ceremony.
Conner was not sure what to expect, even though Glaerion had gone through the details with him several times. With his mind spinning with near disbelief, Conner could not focus on the events at hand. He still could not believe what was about to happen to him. Marriage had always been at the back of his mind as something that would be wonderful, but he also had been certain it would never happen. When he had first met her, she was a princess who was friendly enough to him, but anything more than that was hardly a possibility. Yet, at the time, it didn’t stop him from dreaming about such possibilities. Then she became queen, and any thought of a commoner and a noble together was out of the question. A princess and a commoner would be scandalous, but a queen and a commoner would be abhorrent to all sensibilities. Now, here he was, standing among a group of strangers, waiting to take her hand in marriage. If not for the horrific events of the past couple years, he knew this would never have taken place. Even if his story would have stopped the previous summer when he saved her life in the woods, even if they had become close friends, this would still never have taken place. It had taken the downfall of his kingdom and the possibility of a world-wide war to bring them together. His mind was drowning in the possibilities of the future and what would have been different if he hadn’t gotten caught up in the greater plans of the Creator. He still wasn’t sure how he fit into it all, but he knew that where he was would not have happened if he hadn’t been out hunting alone two summers ago. Every path he was on led him to this moment, and that was why he knew it was so right. There were no regrets, no guilt, no second thoughts. He was right where he was supposed to be, but it still scared him to death.
With anxiousness, he looked around, wondering when the festivities would start. The entire village seemed to have already arrived, but everyone was milling about chatting in Elvish to one another. There were plenty of smiles and laughter to go around, but no one seemed ready to start. His entire body was like a furnace, pumping out heat. Even as the sun fell and the cool night air started blowing in, he was still hot and sweaty. His loose, silky blouse was made of a material that didn’t hold sweat, so at least he wasn’t standing around in smelly, sweat-drenched clothes.
Kaelak, Harroaloral, Nammon, and Glaerion stood behind him. They were similarly dressed in long tunics that hung well below their knees. Each had a wide belt tied around their waist with a dagger tucked in. The daggers were supposed to be ceremonial, but Conner could see that they were well-worn and likely well-used. No one knew what would happen. The four Elves were fully committed to Glaerion’s plan, which meant they might have to defend themselves. It was an unlikely outcome, but one in which they had to be
prepared. It was entirely possible that the entire village would turn against them.
Glaerion stepped forward and said softly to Conner, “Soon, it will be time.”
Conner did not turn towards Glaerion and simply let out a long, slow breath. “When?” he said in a near whisper.
Glaerion patted Conner on the shoulder. “Elves are patient, and when it is time, it will be time. Our lives are long, and there is no reason to rush.”
“I can think of a reason to rush,” Conner muttered under his breath.
Glaerion’s smile widened. “That, too, will come in time!” He stepped back to the other witnesses.
Stringed instruments began to play. A group of four musicians strummed their instruments nearby, but Conner could barely hear them over the din of the crowd. Several Elves approached Conner and shook his hand, congratulating him on his pending nuptials. It was only after Jiahasha, the Elven Council member who had spoken against him approached did he realize all the others were also council members. Conner replied in Elvish, using one of the handful of phrases that he had been able to learn. Even Jiahasha was clearly impressed by Conner’s use of their native language.
The tune of the music changed, and the crowds started to split apart from their clumps of conversations. After a couple of minutes, the Elves were attentively standing, looking at Conner. King Illichian approached. He wore a long, flowing white robe tied by a soft golden sash at the waist. Atop his head was an elaborate silver crown with many points and encrusted jewels. Although his eyes sparkled with excitement, his face was frozen in seriousness.
Once he reached Conner’s side, he turned to his fellow Elves and lifted his hands. “My fellow Elven-kind! I greet you today with the honor of the Ceremony of Marriage. I beg your forgiveness for using the language of Commoner to present the ceremony. Although we all would agree that the words of our language sings a tune that cannot compare, neither the bride nor the groom speaks our language, so out of courtesy to them, I will conduct the ceremony in Commoner.”