by Shawn Keys
Helleanna smiled at him, leaning into his arm for a moment as they walked. “We aren’t alone. None of us. We have each other.”
Safaunya darted a look back at them, a little taken aback by the warmth in Helleanna’s voice and the intimacy in her touch. She didn’t miss the way the moon elf’s hands caressed along Ajax’s forearm.
They tromped higher into the highlands. With each glimpse of the guiding star, they felt they were drawing nearer. They were getting close to the wandering ridgeline again. This time when the woods gave way, there was no set of massive gates. Rather, there was a fold in the cliff-face where a narrow valley split the rock. The split was barely wide enough for Ajax to slide through, though each of his women companions could walk through without their shoulders quite brushing the stone.
The path wasn’t straight; it weaved back and forth like a dry riverbed. Ajax led the way, glancing up at the towering walls to either side that stretched at least fifty feet above them, sure at any moment they would have acid or rocks or boiling oil or something poured down on them.
But for once, tragedy never struck. Inching around the last corner, the knight saw the tight corridor open up on a lovely oasis in the heart of a deep canyon. Lush blue-green grass and wafting willow trees created a dream-like space meant to calm the soul. Flowers were blooming. Their airy blossoms were a soothing mixture of pink-reds and purples that added a splash of color to the otherwise cool, pastel colors that dominated this place. The silvery moonlight didn’t detract from the magic of the mix. Ajax understood how this could be a proper place for an aging elf to come and enjoy as the final vision of this world before walking through the gateway into the Wyld.
At the heart of the garden was a gazebo made of pristine white marble inlaid with gold filigree runes along with patterns resembling vines and leaves. So lifelike was the depiction that the golden plant life seemed to grow right from the natural gardens around them. The steps were five high, wide and shallow as they rose up to the central stage under the canopy.
Under that covering, two objects were positioned in silent wait.
The first was a massive oval frame, like a mirror without glass, made entirely of pure gold. It was welded right to the marble, immovable and looking like it would stand there forever. A churning mixture of oily black and shimmering white essence swirled and churned around each other inside the frame, never still and never mixing.
The second was a statue, or more accurately Ajax would say, a gargoyle. The figure was carved to be on its knees, the wings of the beast curled about its shoulders and looking like a cloak. The creature’s kneeling posture was in ceremonial respect to the power of the gateway. Angling to one side, he was able to get a view of the gargoyle’s face. It was crafted after a nightmare blend of features, though not of any particular race. It had the rugged power of an orc, but a certain symmetry that an orc would never possess. If the beast stood, Ajax was fairly certain it would stand a little taller than him, and would rival the minotaurs in sheer mass if it was flesh – far more given that it was crafted of stone.
He searched left and right, looking for signs of an ambush. He whispered, “No elves.”
Helleanna whispered, respectful and slightly in awe. “Quala’s magic didn’t guide us wrong.”
Krizzilani looked up, and gave a small gasp, “The star! It’s gone!”
They all followed her gaze, and it felt strange to see the sky empty of the conjured object. Ajax hummed in satisfaction. “At least we know we’ve come to the right place.” His focus went back to the gargoyle. “Shall we?”
Helleanna halted him with a light touch. “Hold on. Let me see if I can wake her. She’d want to see this.”
Ajax settled Callistia down onto the grass. “I swore I felt her stirring already. I think she may be coming around.”
While they worked, the other three elves spread out a little. Safaunya drifted through the gardens, her smile charmed by the unusual plants she wasn’t used to seeing in these parts. “The flowers shouldn’t be blooming this time of year. There’s magic at work in this place.”
Krizzilani padded about carefully, her golden eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Everything is… muted.” Ajax flashed her a look, as if to wonder why that worried her. The dark elf tried to find the words, “It is… unoffensive. If this was crafted by sun elves, everything would be garish and bright. At least, for one of my kind. But this is… lovely. Even a dark elf would say so. These flowers remind me of underground shrubs that grow along the sunless banks of lakes in my homeland. One can only see their flowers when the luminescent fireflies flicker their lights to find mates.” The memory was a fond one; she had clearly not expected the gift.
Jyliansa had followed her nose to a nearby pool. It was born from a bubbling spring at its center, then flowed into a break in the rock to disappear back toward the normal world. She inhaled above it, and smiled at the scent. “Magic indeed. This would slake any thirst. Balm any soul. People are meant to enter the Wyld in strength, not strife.” She saw a curled, empty, giant snail shell nearby. She scooped some water into the natural vessel. Bearing it back over to Callistia, she offered it to Helleanna. The maid accepted it with a smile, then turned it to her mistress’s lips.
The first drops moistened the sun elf’s lips, and she swallowed reflexively. A murmur of pleasure emerged, and Callistia willfully drank from the small stream that Helleanna dribbled into her mouth. Her hand came up, helping keep the vessel in place as she was roused from her exhausted sleep.
The sight of her recovery was wondrous, and soon they were all gathered by the side of the pool. Sharing the shell, they drank deeply. Soon new energy was coursing through all of their bodies. Ajax was thrilled that the magic wasn’t for elves alone. He took some as well, groaning as all the fatigue of the hard-won battle and the flight through the woods faded into nothing.
Once they were feeling themselves again, Callistia leaned against a rock by the pool, face cast down in shame. “You must all think me such a fool.” Her eyes closed in pain. “I wanted so desperately to find a place to call home.”
Helleanna folded herself onto her knees at her feet. She stroked a gentle hand along her leg, laying her head onto her lap. “I’m just glad to have you back again.”
Callistia petted her maid’s hair, never doubting that the moon elf would instantly forgive her out of devotion. Her sad eyes were reserved for the others. Resting most heavily on Ajax. “It wasn’t me that gave us away. I hope you believe that. I told them nothing.”
Ajax asserted with conviction, “We never doubted that. You aren’t a fool for chasing a dream.”
Jyliansa offered her own soft smile. “Nor are you a fool for wanting to believe the best in people.”
Krizzilani smirked at her. “But you are an idiot for thinking we wouldn’t understand. But what else can you expect… you know, from a sun-blind waif like you?”
The two of them had always stood apart from each other in a careful détente, their shared affection for Ajax binding them together. At the totally honest, gently biting comment, Callistia suddenly let out a bubble of laughter. She stroked Helleanna’s hair one last time, then eased her off her lap. Standing straight, the majestic elfish princess swayed over and stood right in front of the slightly more petite, feisty, deadly dark elf rogue. “Fury forbid I get outshined by a sun-starved mole like you.” She glided smoothly into Krizzilani’s personal space, folded her arms around the other woman, and kissed her with intense passion. Almost in spite of herself, the dark elf’s own arms curled around her long-standing rival. Their lips parted, eyes closed, and tongues danced between them as they melted against each other.
The ring of their intimate friends watched with mingled surprise, delight and no lack of desire at the sight. The gorgeous image of light and dark beauty made it impossible to turn away.
When an interruption came, it was from the totally astonished forest elf new to their circle. Safaunya’s mouth was parted in a shocked ‘o’, eyes equally
wide. “I must be hallucinating…”
The others around the circle chuckled, and the two women at the center broke from their kiss to laugh gently, realizing the exhibition they were putting on.
Ajax cleared his throat, feeling that if they didn’t move now, other distractions were going to set in. He pushed to his feet, checking quickly that Skyreaver could move easily in its sheath. “Shall we wake the gargoyle?”
Callistia sighed happily, shared one last small kiss with Krizzilani, then parted from her arms. “You won’t need your sword. We’ll find no battle here, not unless we bring it. And I suspect this creation would be more than a match for us. It was created to stop elves from warring to possess the gate.”
Ajax frowned. “That was the story the King invented.”
She nodded. “Indeed, and I believe that much was true. He twisted the truth so we would not detect the lie. He knew we were there to find a gateway unprotected by the elves. He perverted the story, but he didn’t know how much we could find out by asking around and hearing stories or reading books from his own library. He had to keep his lie as close to reality as possible. The maze of the minotaurs was a lie, but the power of this Guardian probably is not.”
His lovers were nodding, seeing the wisdom in that. Ajax did as well. Why invent an entire history when you could corrupt the truth to your own ends? Yes, that makes sense. Which doesn’t make this gargoyle any less dangerous. Will he accept our plea without the word of a royal elf from this area to speak for our cause?
“No sense delaying. What will be, will be.” Ajax took hold of his fear, banished it, and stepped up onto the steps of the gazebo.
As soon as he put pressure on the first step, the gargoyle rose from its vigil. The emergence was expected, so they group held their ground without pressing further forward. Ajax found that he had underestimated the grandeur of the Guardian’s true form. It turned to face them, and a vibrant, white light swelled into existence within its eyes. The sound of stone grinding on stone filled his ears as the animated monster flexed its wings out, flapping against the air as if to ease stiffness from its limbs.
It carried no weapons, but it didn’t need them to be imposing. Silently, the creature tracked along the whole grew, seeing them and then seeing through them. At last, its voice rising from the granite of the mountains, it asked, “None of you are ready for life beyond the Wyld. Your times have not come. Why have you disturbed my slumber?”
Once again, there’s no sense lying, Ajax decided. “I know most people pass through this gateway seeking the end of their lives, noble Guardian. But we are seeking to help someone survive. Can you feel the presence of the creation spirit?”
The gargoyle fixed him with a blazing stare. Ajax had the oddest sensation of a fierce cyclone of wind tearing at the edge of his aura. Thinking back to the illusions he had had cast over the fakes, he was sure in those moments that any deceiving magic would have been torn to shreds. “I sense the spirit. Her essence is weak. Even the effort of concealing her power could end her within weeks. Perhaps only days. You risk much for so frail a hope.”
Ajax didn’t flinch. “We’ve crossed the whole world for this, Guardian. Crossing another one doesn’t scare us.”
The Guardian’s stone brow thickened, glowering at him in warning. “It should. You will face mortal danger unlike any other. Normally, people walk these paths alone. Insanity beckons. Even the strongest soon gleefully embrace it. If you go together, you may see each other twisted by the Wyld. Bizarre creatures will hunt you for the simple sake of chaos. Visions and bends in reality may distort what you think is real.”
He glared pointedly at Krizzilani. “Especially you, Dark One. This gateway can take you into the Light or into the Dark. I have given mercy to your kind as well as the others. But you seek the Doors of Creation, so you must pass into the realm of the Light Wyld. Mere hatred does not match what the Wyld creatures will have for you. With the others? They would toy with them. Game with them. Even in the right moment, lust after them. With you? They will slay you out of hand. And then there is the magic of the Wyld itself. I do not know how its power will affect one of the Dark.”
Krizzilani steeled herself. “I’ve been exiled to the lands of light for so long. My whole life feels like training for this moment.”
The gargoyle’s face actually grew a strangely wry smirk. Then, it turned to face Ajax. “No less a warning shall I give you.”
That was far less expected. “What?”
The gargoyle growled, “There can be no shame or doubt or falsehood if you are to pass beyond the veil. You must know of the darkness in your blood.”
Ajax protested, “My mother’s lineage is ogre, not –”
The Guardian silenced him with a rumble. “Your world’s history is a murky soup. Truth is lost in its deepest depths. Humans are anchored in this world. Were you totally of mundane blood, you would not be able to step beyond this boundary. Orcs stand in opposition, their blood equally born of this world.”
“But elves hate the orc even more –”
Once more, the gargoyle rolled right over him. “Humans summoned elves into this world, fearing the demons of the night. They gave themselves as slaves to an immortal race to chase away the beasts that walk as men. Orc shamans tried to level the field by conjuring the dark elves from the under-realm. But the dark elves were selfish and consumed in their own desires.”
Callistia gawked. “That’s… impossible. Humans are the source of us being here? We were supposed to be their servants?” The other elves seemed equally struck, stunned to have their world view fractured wide open.
The gargoyle all but ignored her protestations, knowing that the truth would sink in. “Once the first summoning breached the boundary between worlds, the magic of the Wyld can never be fully contained. It has always fed this world energy, but every now and then, a new unintended corruption changes this world. Ogres are not cousins of the orcs as so many of your kind think. They are humans corrupted by the unfiltered influence of the Dark Wyld. The power in your blood gives you a key to walk through the gateway. But you will share the same risk as your night-skinned friend.”
“What do you think will happen?”
Th gargoyle shook its head. “I do not know. But in the Wyld, minds and bodies change. It may turn the light against the dark. Your only defense will be to trust each other utterly.”
Ajax nodded, and asked, “May we discuss this?”
The gargoyle answered without care. “I am eternal.”
I take that as a ‘yes’. Ajax darted a look to the women inviting them to join him, then pulled back into the gardens. The Guardian returned and settled back into his kneeling posture in front of the portal.
Ajax scrubbed at his hair, letting out a sound of frustration. “That was not what I expected. Damn!” He punched the side of a small tree, making it shiver.
Helleanna mocked him, “No sense taking it out on the helpless trees.”
Safaunya gave a vigorous nod of support for that.
Ajax flashed her an apologetic smile, then added, “I trust all of you. But you didn’t sign on to face me as an enemy. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I hurt one of you.”
Jyliansa, as ever calm and slow to panic, spoke, “That is not what he said. He gave us the answer to this riddle. Trust. That link can save us.” A small tint of green-hued blush crept up her skin. “Trust born of love.”
Ajax’s heart dissolved into goo. His rugged face had never worn so genuine a smile. “And I do. I trust you with my life. You saved me back there in that battle. And I have no doubt you would save me in the Wyld. But I have a beast in me. Can you trust me not to turn into the monster?”
The circle of elfish women exchanged those mysterious glances that serve as telepathy for females to which no male of any species has access.
Helleanna was the first to step forward. She reached up and placed a hand on his armored chest. “When we go into the Wyld, we dare not ask the spirit to conjure more of
her magic. You will be our guiding star in this, Ajax. We trust you, because you… you are our knight.” She reached up, and unsnapped the bindings along his shoulder guards. It was a start.
Ajax had no words for what followed. Around him, the others stood. Watching. Helleanna moved around him, playing the role of his squire. A part of him wanted to stop her, uncertain of her end purpose. But her movements were so tender even as they were efficient. One after the other, the pieces of his armor were cast aside. She stripped him of his protections, and he couldn’t help but feel there was symbolism in the process; a symbolism that none of them were missing.
The last of his armor was cast to the ground, but Helleanna didn’t pause. Her silken touch drifted under his shirt, stripping it away. With his muscled torso bear, her hands descended to the ties of his trousers. It was then that Ajax began to wonder how far she would go. Here, in this place, with the others watching so intently… how far would he let her go?
There was no other option.
He trusted her.
Helleanna felt him relax into her. She reacted with a soft smile that shone through the solemn cast on her face. She tugged open his trousers, and spilled them down his stout legs. She brushed light fingers up and down his thighs, using her fingernails to raise gooseflesh as she teased him. Then, her fingertips slipped under his loincloth, prying the cloth loose enough to work it over and off the bulge beneath. That fabric vanished too.
Helleanna then placed a warm hand on his chest, and looked up past his rippling chest and whispered, “Wait here.”
She drifted away, and Ajax swallowed. His heart was thunderous in his chest, beginning to pump hotter and hotter blood into his veins. It wasn’t a blush that took him; there was no embarrassment as he stood there naked in the middle of this circle of elfish women. For their eyes weren’t mocking him. They were feasting on him. Even Safaunya, not yet intimate with him, was breathing a little heavier.
Helleanna returned, bearing with her a shell-full of water. She upended it slowly over his shoulders, letting the purer-than-pure water cleanse away the filth of the road. Five times she went to the pool, and five times she returned to wash more of the soot and dust away until he felt refreshed. The air was pleasantly chill as the water evaporated off his skin.