This is the story of a lost and orphaned child—and how he comes to find himself.
Shauna
Ten year-old Roland is riding on the horse with his mother, Helge. They had left their guards behind, a little less than a quarter mile back, having safely made it through the mountains. They are about to ride into the woods and his father, George, is intensely looking around—watchful for the band of mountain trolls that have boldly been attacking travelers along this route.
George sighs and says, “It looks like we are lucky. Once we make it to the woods, we will be protected. Just another two-hundred yards.”
Roland, too young to really realize the dangers about, is curious about the forest and asks his mother, “Do you think we will see any Silvan Elves in the forest, mother?” Helge is about to answer when George shouts, “Ride! As fast as you can!”
Roland looks around and sees a hideous monster, the first mountain troll he has ever seen, strike his father from his horse with the single blow of a huge club. He sobs as Helge kisses his head and says, “I love you, son. Get to the forest and search out the Elves—they will keep you safe!” With that, she jumps off of the horse, already drawing her bow with the first arrow nocked.
She slaps the horse’s rear hard and sends it, with Roland hanging on for dear life, dashing towards the nearby woods. The last Roland sees of his parents is his father fighting the troll; his sword drawn and bloodied. His mother is drawing her bow and letting loose a flurry of arrows at the other trolls approaching…
The horse runs wild—deep into the forest. After several long minutes of barely hanging on, Roland smacks his head on a low-hanging branch, knocking himself unconscious and falls off the horse. He rolls down a deep ravine and comes to a stop just before he falls into a clear, cold brook. He lay there, unconscious—a deep cut on his forehead.
I come to with a splitting headache. At first, I don’t remember what happened…then there is a flash of memory… A horse running through the woods…and then…nothing… Where am I? Who am I? What has happened to me? I look around, scared and shivering. I am in a deep ravine of some sort—it is dark; although it is obviously still daylight as is evidenced by a few stray beams of sunlight that filter down through the trees. A small waterfall coming from somewhere close to the top of the ravine leads to a bubbling brook that is running along beside me.
I reach up and feel the sticky blood on my pounding head and move closer to the stream. I reach out with cupped hands to get some water for my head when I hear a distinct, ”STOP!”. I look around and, at first, don’t see anything—or anyone. Then I notice a shimmering mist over the water that takes the shape of silvery, translucent woman—like she is made of water vapor. She is beautiful.
I hear the voice again, but it is only in my head, ”If you touch the water, the witch will know you are here. I have no idea what she would do with one of your kind.” I shake my head to clear it. The vision does not go away, so I ask, “Who are you? Where am I? What witch?” The voice in my head continues, ”You are in the Black Witch’s ravine. This stream is the gateway to the elven world—the only way a human can get to that world without a direct invitation from the Elves. I am an Undine…a water sylph. I protect the stream. Anyone crossing the stream has to pay the witch a toll. If you follow the stream to the end of the ravine, you can safely return to the human world—or are you intending to visit the Elves?”
I shake my head and say, “I don’t know… I don’t know who I am—let alone what I intended on doing…” The Undine wavers a bit and a cool mist envelopes my head. I hear the voice again, I cannot read your thoughts through the veil… Only the Elves can help, I am afraid. Quickly! I will help you cross the brook further downstream. You must be quiet, though. The witch is not bad, nor is she good. She has taken a neutral stance in the standoff… I don’t know how she would react to you, though…”
Confused, I follow her downstream to a spot where there are several natural stepping stones across the stream. I hear the voice again, ”You will need a name until you remember your own. I suggest ‘Brook’, in honor of that which will save you. I will envelope you in a mist that will obscure you—but only for only a few seconds… You must hurry across and not fall into the water. Be careful, the stones are slippery.”
I step onto the first stone and my toe dips into the water. I feel a wild rush of wind from behind. I hear a real voice behind me say, “Stop! You may not cross without paying the toll!” I hop from stone to stone—there are only five left. I slip and start to fall on the last one. With a tremendous effort, I jump and sort of twist at the same time. I know I am going to miss the water and land on the other side. But while I am in the air, three things happen: (1) I see the witch and am surprised; she is pretty…and half human—half elf. (2) The witch sends a blue bolt of lightning after me; it hits me just as I hit an energy field or shield of some sort. (3) I feel a tingle from the shield and a pain from the lightning…and land on the other side.
I blink my eyes to clear the tears from them. I see the stream clearly through a shimmering veil of some sort—and I also see the witch. She is seething. Obviously furious, she disappears in a whirlwind. The Undine is nowhere to be seen.
I sit there, breathless. What now, wonder boy? I am about to get up when I hear a command from behind me, “Stop! Don’t move, human, or I will shoot you. What do you want from the Elves?” It is a melodious, distinctly female voice—that does not comfort me. I start shaking. The voice says, “Slowly turn around and let me see you.” I do as bid and I hear a gasp. An absolutely stunning girl elf is looking at me, bow drawn and notched arrow pointed directly at my heart. She says, “But you are but a child…and a Halfling! Did the witch put you up to this? Answer me!”
I stutter some incoherent words until I can finally get an answer out, “No Ma’am—I escaped the witch with the help of a…a…a sylph in the stream.” She gives me a surprised look and says, “The Undine helped you? That is interesting… However, your very existence breaks one of our strictest laws… It is strictly forbidden for Elves and humans to mate. How is it that you are here? More importantly, why are you here? You must know that it cannot go well for you…” I shrug and say, “I don’t know why I am here—I can’t remember anything from before an hour ago. The sylph said that only an elf could help me figure out who I am.”
Again, the girl gives me a strange look. She lowers her bow and asks, “So, Halfling, do you have a name?” I hang my head and say, “I can’t remember that either—the sylph suggested ‘Brook’ in honor of it saving me from the witch.” She nods and says, “Follow me, Brooke. Do not stray from behind me or I will shoot you. I will take you to see our queen.”
I follow the beautiful girl closely. I have no doubt that she is serious that she will shoot me if I stray the slightest bit. I watch her walk through the woods gracefully, her long bright red hair flowing behind her like feathers. I find myself envious of her—especially since I am stumbling over every root and rock in the path.
After what seems like an hour, we are joined by other elves—some male, some female. They surround me and all talk in a sing-song language that I have absolutely no understanding of…but is somehow familiar. They give me strange looks, but no one attempts to speak directly to me. Finally, we arrive at a village, or town, of sorts—only it is in the trees. We climb a spiral staircase that winds its way around the centermost tree; which is also the largest in the gathering. When we finally make it to the top, we enter an absolutely stunning tree…castle(?)…
A graceful woman, clearly related to my ‘guide’ stands there waiting—obviously forewarned of our arrival. She looks at the girl that had brought me here and says in English, “Miriel, my daughter, who…or better…what have you brought into our midst?”
My captor(?), guide(?), whatever her intention was—obviously the daughter of this woman and named Miriel—switches to the unknown sing-song language and rapidly speaks for several minutes. There is a short exchange between the two in the unknown language, then the woman turns back to me and says, once again in English, “So, you escaped the Halfling witch with the help of the border stream Undine and claim to not remember anything. That seems rather convenient, now doesn’t it? Your existence belies reality. We Elves have not had any contact with humans in over a century of your time. Unless your Elfish parent is a dark Elf, something does not add up.” She stops and thinks, then says, “That could explain a lot—especially since the Dark Elves have conspired with that human, Drake Valkyre, and somehow kidnapped my sister, the true Queen of the Forest. Miriel says you go by ‘Brooke’?”
I nod—too scared to say anything else. She says, “Then come here, girl, I want to see what you are hiding.” I move towards her beckoning hand, again, too scared to correct her. She leans forward and places her hands on both sides of my face, then closes her eyes. She stays that way for quite some time, an intense look of concentration on her face. Finally, she releases me and sits back.
She gives me a strange look and says, “This is very strange. You speak the truth—at least as far as you seem to know it. It is clear that you are not of Dark descent, though, how you come to be of Silvan descent, I have no idea. I also must apologize; I assumed that Brooke was a female name. I am happy that you are honoring the wishes of the Undine—she was correct; it does seem to befit you.”
She sits and motions Meriel and me to do the same. The guards close the door and the Queen speaks to me, “My name is Lothiriel. That would roughly translate to ‘Flower’ in your language—I would be named ‘Fleur’ in your language. My sister, Queen Ainathiel, was kidnapped thirty of your years ago and I am in her place until she returns. You may call me Queen Fleur if that is easier for you.”
She looks at Miriel and nods. Miriel gets up and leaves the room. Queen Fleur turns her attention back to me, “As for what I am going to do with you, I have no idea. There have been no known Halflings for over a century of your time… The witch you escaped was the last one… I could turn you back to the humans, but I do not think you would fare well. You are too young…and they trust us as little as we trust them. You would be in a bad position. Which brings us to the question of how you have stayed hidden. You look to be about ten human years…a mere blink of an eye for us…you are still an infant in our terms. Yet, for humans that is a fairly substantial amount of time to go unnoticed… And, we should have felt it… Yes, I am curious…”
Miriel comes back in, a servant following her carrying a heavy tray laden with fruit and a pot of tea. Queen Fleur says, “Eat. I am sure you are hungry. There is no meat in our diet, so I am afraid you will have to get used to being a vegetarian.” I timidly take some of the fruit, a piece of melon of some sort, and bite into it. It is sweet, like honey, and tastes wonderful. The queen watches me and says, “It is also curious that you show no Elven abilities. Even as young as you are, there should be signs… It is as if you are…bound! That is it. You were bound…likely to appear human to the humans and to hide you from our senses. That takes quite some skill… We will have to study this. You will stay under my care until we get this sorted out—something is not quite right, here…and I will get to the bottom of it!”
I wake up in a strange room and panic. Where? Wait…Who…? And then the events of the day before, the ones that I can remember, flood back into my mind and I settle back into the soft bed. I look around the room, trying to remember more…but it is useless.
I reach up and touch my forehead. A healer had sealed up the wound before I had been brought to this room by Miriel. It seems to be completely healed now—not even the slightest bit tender to the touch.
I lay there, not knowing what to do, exactly. I know that I am in a tree castle, high above the ground. I am in the Queen’s ‘care’, as her ‘ward’—meaning that she wants to keep me close to study me. It also means that, basically, I think I am her prisoner.
I look up, startled, as Miriel comes into my room without knocking. She gives me a scowl and asks, “Well, waif? Are you just going to stay in bed all day?” I shrug and say, much less intimidated by her today, “I don’t know the customs here… Not that I can specifically remember my own, but I know what seems right… Anyway, you took my clothes last night… What am I to wear?” She rolls her eyes, then actually giggles. She goes to a door carved right out of the tree and opens it. With a flourish, she says, “And voila… Have you ever heard of a wardrobe?” I look at the clothes, Elven clothes, hung neatly in the space. She says, “Get dressed and meet us in the dining hall in ten minutes, or you will miss breakfast.” And she is gone…
I sigh and get out of bed. I am in a nightgown…I guess nightshirt is the better term. I pull out some random clothes from the wardrobe—not really knowing anything about Elven styles—and get dressed. I find my way to the dining hall where the Queen and Miriel are eating fruit from a large platter. The Queen looks up as I come in and seems to choke on her fruit. Miriel just giggles. The Queen gives her a harsh look and then says, “Good morning, Brooke. I see you…need some help…dressing. Miriel will help you pick out some more appropriate things after we eat. Come…” She tries to hide a grin as she picks up the slice of melon she had dropped.
I give her a dirty look and say, “Give it a rest, Miriel! That was mean… How am I supposed to know how to dress as an elf?” Miriel is still giggling as she pulls out some clothes for me to put on. She lays them on the bed and proceeds to explain the different outfits. She says, “The wardrobe is stocked with things for both boys and girls, since this room is for unexpected guests. It is magical and should have only provided you with boy’s options. You seem to have confused it as much as you have the rest of us. It likely can’t get a good read on you. You are wearing a mix of boy’s and girl’s clothes.” She leaves me to put on the clothes that she had laid out for me. I hang the others back up…grumbling the whole time.
I meet the Queen on the balcony, as instructed. She tells me to sit and then contemplates something for a minute before asking, “OK, Brooke, what do you remember of the world? We know that you do not remember anything family-related. What can you tell me of Earth’s history? Of humans or Elves?”
I sit and concentrate. Finally, I shake my head and say, “It is strange. I can’t remember specifics. If you ask me for a detail, I can’t pull it up. But, I seem to know what is right or wrong—what is and what is not…like an instinct, or something. For example, I know that you are an elf by looking at you. I just don’t know how I know. I don’t remember learning it.”
Queen Fleur slowly nods her head. She sits quietly for several minutes and then says, “Well, I need to remind you of the state of affairs in the world, then. As you seem to know, there are the three main races in the world. Elves, humans, and gnomes. There are the Elementals—the sylphs, nymphs, and so on. Then there are other…riff-raff… Trolls, ogres, and other objectionables. Then there are the truly undesirables, the demons and such. That is just scratching the surface, but you get the idea.”
I nod, somehow knowing this stuff, once reminded. The Queen continues, “Many millennia ago, as humans perceive time, the Elves, humans, and gnomes got along. Then the gnomes got greedy and broke off relations with both us and the humans. A little over a millennium ago, human time, relations between the Elves and the humans soured, as well. An evil being…calling him human is no longer quite accurate…anyway, this being, Drake Valkyre, ascended into the picture. At one point, Drake was human. He aligned himself with the Dark Elves, though…and acquired…their evil nature through bonding with a demon spirit. He has poisoned a large portion of the human race against their rightful heir…and against the Good Elves, like us, the Sylvan Elves. Drake used the Dark Magic he acquired to create creatures from human mythology; vampires, werewolves, zombies. With these creatures at his beck and call…backed by the Dark Elves, he has been slowly overtaking the outer realm—feeding off of the Darkness. That is how he has survived over a thousand human years. We Good Elves had no choice but to seal ourselves off from the human race to protect ourselves… There is no sure way for us to tell a good human from a dark one—unlike how we can with Elves. It would be a simple matter for a dark human to infect a Good Elf with the Darkness.”
She pauses to make sure that I am still paying attention and, once assured, continues, “That is also when we decreed that an Elf is strictly forbidden from forming a sexual union with a human—the easiest way for the Dark infection to take hold. I am afraid that you will find there is quite a bit of prejudice against you for being who…no, what, you are. Even us Good Elves are not beyond that. There have been only a few infractions of the law since it has existed—the last resulting in the Black Witch that you have met… Halflings are typically shunned by both races…that typically results in unstable individuals, like the Black Witch. We have, however always known of the Halflings’ existence… You are the sole exception to that. Something that must be explored. How? More importantly, Why? Do you understand my quandary, now?”
My head is spinning from the information. Miriel looks at me and says, “I think our waif has had enough history for a bit, Mother. If it is OK with you, I think a bit of ‘testing’ is in order.” Queen Fleur nods and says, “I think you are correct, daughter-of-mine. Bring him back for lunch and we will continue the lesson after that. I look forward to your report on the testing.”
I have never been one for violence…I think… At least, I show no signs of any sort of weapons training. I am solidly beat up with a wooden sword by the trainer; and I show no inclination of being able to use a knife. Miriel shrugs and says, “Well, it looks like you have a lot to learn if you are going to survive in this world as a Halfling.” I sigh and nod my head. Then I look at her bow…and something stirs in my mind… A flash of long golden blonde hair…lithe hands pulling back the string on a bow… And it is gone…but, I feel a connection. I sigh and ask Miriel, “Can I try a bow?” Both Miriel and the trainer laugh. Miriel says, “That is an Elf woman’s weapon.” She looks at me and says, “But then, I guess you are not really an Elf, are you, Halfling waif?” The trainer snickers and hands me a practice bow and a quiver of arrows. I shrug and just look at it—somehow feeling a connection to it. Miriel giggles and says, “Beriaden cannot help you with learning to use that. Elf men prefer swords and knives. Here, let me show you.”
She shows me how to nock the arrow, aim, and release. To both of our surprises, I hit the bullseye—dead center—at a hundred paces. After several more increasingly difficult tests, Miriel seems…confused at my ability. We go back to the dining hall, where Queen Fleur is awaiting our return—once again at a fruit-laden table. We sit and Miriel relates the results of my weapons testing. Miriel says, “He shows an uncanny intuition on the use of a bow and arrow; very akin to magical. Well beyond what a human should be able to do—but inconsistent with any male Elf ability. With a little practice, he could rival me--even using my magic.”
Queen Fleur raises her eyebrows and says, “Yet another mystery to unravel. Brooke, the reason that Elf men do not take up the bow and arrow is because some Elf women have a special magic that can enchant the arrows on the fly, so to speak. Men can practice and become proficient, but never be as good as a woman with the magic. So, they focus on other weapons and leave the bow and arrow to the true masters. It is yet another oddity about you that we will have to explore.”
She sits back and says, “Now eat. I still have some things that I want to relate to you before we can begin your formal education.” I take some fruit and bite into it…sighing to myself. I miss meat. This is wonderful fruit, but I really need some protein… Miriel raises her eyebrows and looks at me. She demands, “What did you just say? Something about meat? I didn’t quite catch it.” I pale and stutter, “I…I…I didn’t say anything… I just thought that I miss the protein from meat…”
Queen Fleur says, “Telepathic abilities, too…? It seems your binding is coming…loose. Something has shaken it—but not enough to completely unbind you. It is interesting that you connected with Miriel, though… I think we need to postpone your history lessons for a bit longer—this is a somewhat disturbing development that we must immediately explore. See if you can project something into my mind.”
I shrug, I have no idea how to. I didn’t mean to the last time. I nearly choke on my melon when I hear, ”Yet, that came across pretty clear in my mind…” Miriel gasps, “He connected with you? But…” Queen Fleur looks at me and says with a puzzled scowl on her face, “Yes. He did. Which is…very disturbing … Did I miss some Darkness in him? The other explanation is just too…impossible.” Miriel says, “Some humans have shown the ability. Could it be his human side? He connected with me first…” Queen Fleur shakes her head, “No, the connection is clearly Elven—I think triggered by the strong emotional desire. Another clearly female Elven trait. Also, Brooke, even if that could be explained, only Elves of royal descent can connect with members of the royal family… No, there must be something within the binding…some piece of Darkness still veiled… The only other possible explanation is that you are the female descendent of the Elven royal family!”
”No, there must be something within the binding…some piece of Darkness still veiled… The only other possible explanation is that you are the female descendent of the Elven royal family!”
Miriel giggles and says, “Mother! That is absurd!” I shrug and say, “For all I know, it could be true… Well, except for the fact that I am a boy.” Even I have to laugh at that. The Queen, however, is not amused. She says, “We need to fathom this out. If you are indeed somehow bound to the Darkness, it is a grave danger for both you and us. Drake Valkyre claimed to have been the descendent of one of the Valkyrie, hence the name. True or not is irrelevant—after he bound with the demon spirit, he manifested many of the Valkyries’ abilities; in spite of being male. He is successfully emulating inherently female abilities, since we all know that the Valkyrie are all female.”
Miriel is no longer giggling… They are beginning to scare me a little. Queen Fleur says, “Come, Brooke, I think it is time that we visit with the Black Witch. Unstable as she is, she is still likely our best means of sorting you out…” Miriel says, “Mother! Do you think we can trust her?” I look at the Queen and stutter, “I agree… I barely escaped her last time—I don’t think she is very happy with me.”
Queen Fleur raises a hand, commanding silence. She says, “Miriel, go set up a meeting through the Undine. I said we would visit with the Black Witch, Brooke. We will not be there in body, so she will not be able to harm you.” Miriel bows her head and leaves with a “Yes, Mother”. The Queen looks at me and says, “I just don’t know what to think about you. I certainly hope the witch can shed some light. Don’t worry—we have…an agreement. I believe she will honor it…at least long enough to divine some needed information.”
We are sitting next to a small waterfall close to the ‘castle’. There is an iridescent mist of water surrounding us. I see the form of the Undine from the day before form in the mist—but only as an image; not the true form from yesterday. I hear her voice in my head, ”The Black Witch has agreed to a meeting, Your Majesty. She is, however, not a happy witch—she froze me in the stream for hours yesterday.”
Queen Fleur nods and says, “I am sorry to hear that, Laesneniel. Can you connect us? She nods and the image of the Black Witch appears in the mist. I shrink back, still not trusting this, at all. The witch still has a furious look on her face. Her voice emanates from the mist, “Queen Lothiriel. You have my Halfling.” Queen Fleur smiles and says, “Hello, Vanmoriel. I did not know the Halfling was yours—if that were the case, he would be a Quarterling, right?” She cocks her head and the witch’s eyes flash anger. She says, “You know what I mean! It passed through the river without paying the toll. That is a violation of our agreement!”
The Queen laughs in a tinkly sort of way. She says, “Our agreement is that you may control the passage for unbidden humans to our realm and exact a toll from those that truly wish to enter—and are willing to pay your price. It is a win-win—especially for us, since no one seems to want to pay your price. Anyway, how have we broken the agreement?” The witch’s image just waves an exasperated hand in my direction. Queen Fleur says, “Well, now. I don’t think Brooke counts, since he is a Halfling--not a human. You, of all people, should understand that concept!”
The witch’s image burns red again, then she sort of chuckles. She looks at me as she says, directed towards the Queen, “So, what do you want, Flower?” The Queen looks a little perturbed, but quickly recovers, and says, “Our Halfling is showing disturbing…signs. I thought you may have some insights, given your…unique…attributes.” This time the witch’s image shakes with laughter. Finally, she says, “Yes, the Halfling is very interesting. I maintain that I am much more qualified to…educate…it than you.”
The Queen remains silent and holds firm. Finally, the witch shrugs and says, “So be it. When you tire of playing with it, send it to me. Yes, I connected magically with it for a brief instant before it passed through the protective veil into your realm. I had sensed a protective veil of its own…and a magical binding ward, similar to my own. I was curious and attempted to break both. Obviously, I was not successful.”
The Queen looks at the image in the mist with a thoughtful expression. She says, “You keep calling the little one ’it’. Why?” The image shrugs and says, “Because that is the truth. I could not break the protective veil of amnesia—or the binding ward. It is clearly an Elven ward similar to the one that my mother placed on me—the one that eternally binds me in the purgatory of neither good, nor evil. The Halfling is more like me than you realize. Not only is it neither Human, nor Elf—it is neither male, nor female. Or so it seems. The ward on me permanently binds me to exist between Darkness and Light—there is no way of knowing to which side I would go without it. The ward on the Halfling is not a permanent one—once broken, it will result in a gravitation to one side or the other. It seems the ward was meant to make the Halfling appear like a normal human boy—my suspicion is that it is meant to confuse anyone with magic by making the Halfling appear…well, neutral. The ward is however meant to be broken…but without the key to the binding’s magic, there is no way to break it.”
The Queen looks thoughtfully at the image in the mist and asks, “And Darkness? Is there any sign…?” The image of the witch’s head shakes and says, “No. None—there is no doubt that the Halfling has not been touched by the Darkness—yet. It has the potential to become a powerful player—I have foreseen it. Do not trifle with this one. Bring it to me to be properly prepared.” Queen Fleur shakes her head and says, “No, I think not, Dark. Not this one—not this time.” And she gets up, signaling Miriel and me to follow her. Miriel thanks the Undine as she breaks the link—and we go back to the castle.
My face must fully show the confusion that I feel. Queen Fleur simply asks, “What are your questions, Child. I know you must have many—however, know that I still don’t have many answers. That being said, I will explain what I now am sure is the truth.”
I am so confused, I don’t know where to even begin. I start out simple—to give my brain time to try and catch up. I ask, “The Undine has a name?” Miriel and Queen Fleur laugh—loudly. Through the tears in her eyes, Queen Fleur says, “After all that we have learned today, that is your first question? Yes, and why would she not—she is a sentient being, after all. Laesneniel is Elven for Kendra, in English. Roughly translated, it means ‘Water Baby’. And before you ask, yes, the Black Witch obviously also has a name, Vanmoriel. That is Layla, or ‘Dark Beauty’, in English. It is meant to signify that she has both a Dark and a good…a beautiful side.”
I nod and say, “About that…” I fall silent, not sure how to ask the question. Queen Fleur says, “As you may have discerned, Vanmoriel is a Halfling that exists on the brink of Light and Darkness. She is a prime example of why our law of no allowed Elf-human bonds exists. Her mother, Authiel, was a good Elf—a powerful warrior, which is what her name means, ‘Battle Maiden’; or Lois, in English. Her father was a human that had been taken over by the Dark Elves… He was able to deceive Authiel into…joining him… The result was Vanmoriel. In her last act of Goodness—before being overtaken by the Darkness, herself—she cast a powerful ward onto her unborn child. She could not stop the Darkness from inhabiting her child, so she forced it to co-exist with the Light, which is another way we refer to good, or Goodness. If being a Halfling is not punishment enough for poor Vanmoriel—this certainly is. She is doomed to a life between races—and between good and evil.”
I look at her and say, “But don’t we all live there? We all have to make those choices.” She nods her head and says, “Yes, Child. But for Vanmoriel, there is no choice. You or I cannot completely comprehend her existence—we have no reference. She simply does not have the capacity to be good or evil… Yet, she is both.”
I shake my head in confusion. Then I approach the real topic, “And she said I was like her in that regard. So what does that make me?” I wipe the tears from my eyes as the Queen says, “Come here, Brooke. I think you need a queenly hug!” I go to her and receive a huge hug, then she continues, “She did not say that you were like her from a ‘good and evil’ point of view. She said you were like her from a…split...being point of view. Yes, you are both Halflings. And you are both split beyond that. That is where the similarity ends, though.”
I sniffle and wipe some more tears from my eyes as she continues, “What I say next is not anything that I can prove, at this point. It is however the only thing that makes sense—and, as such, must be the truth. Vanmoriel confirmed that you were not touched by the Darkness. I was able to discern as much for your Elvin side. She was able to also confirm the same for your human side. She is the only being on Earth, not consumed by the Darkness, that can do so. I also believe that when she tried to lift your veil and break your ward that she succeeded in cracking your ward—ever so slightly.”
I shake my head, still confused, and ask, “But what did she mean by I am ‘neither male, nor female’?” Queen Fleur purses her lips and says, “I think she was being a bit coy with that, at first. She let some things slip at the end, though. That leads me to think that our intuitions on your…abilities…were correct. Vanmoriel confirmed my suspicions when she said your ward makes you appear male. I think it goes beyond that…the ward has actually given you a male body. You are, however, in reality a female.”
I look at her, shocked…and somehow know it to be the truth. As soon as she said it, I could feel it… I have a haunted look in my eye and say, “So, I am a girl—trapped in a boy’s body… How do I get out?” Queen Fleur shakes her head sadly and says, “I don’t know, Brooke. Vanmoriel could not break the ward, and she is very powerful; I have no doubt that we cannot either. You will have to find the key to your ward…”
I sit there—more lost than ever. The servants are setting the table, so we are taking a short break. My stomach growls and I realize that I am really hungry. Miriel giggles when she hears it and says, “Well, that is not very lady-like, Brooke!” She grins and winks as a servant places a small platter in front of me that has some sort of vegetable cakes on them.
Queen Fleur says, “Your human half seems to demand much more protein than a pure Elf would need. We are quite content to have our diet consist of about 99% fruits and very little protein. Those bean cakes are very protein-rich and should satisfy your need; like we said before—we will not serve, nor tolerate, eating animal flesh in our Realm.” I nod and quickly take a bite of one of the cakes. It tastes surprisingly good…and, after finishing off just one, I am already feeling much more satisfied.
As we continue eating, Queen Fleur says, “As I was saying before, I am convinced that you are truly a girl in that boy’s body.” I nod and say between mouthfuls of the wonderful protein cakes, “Yes. Somehow…I knew it was true the moment you said it; like I have always known… I even got…a sense that I was always closest to my mother…but then it was gone…”
The Queen nods and says, “Speaking of your mother; Elven genealogy is complex, but, based on some things that have peeked through your wards, I wager that your mother was Elven. If that is the case, she must have also been of royal descent. I would know of anyone of royal descent, from any of the Elven tribes—except the Dark Elves—that had joined with a human. None, save my sister, have left the Realm in quite some time. In reality, we have no proof that my sister even left the Realm—she just…disappeared. We are fairly certain that there was Darkness involved; there is no other good explanation… However, there is also no other good explanation for your existence.”
Miriel gasps and says, “Mother? Are you inferring that Brooke is Ainathiel’s child?” Queen Fleur shakes her head and says, “No, I am not inferring it. I am saying it. Nothing else makes any sense—not that that does either. But it makes the least least sense. I can think of no other explanation…”
She looks intently at me and asks, “Child, does the name Ainathiel mean anything to you?” I shake my head no and Miriel says, “Mother, he…she wouldn’t know the Elven name—do you remember a Helge? It means ‘Holy’.”
I gasp as visions of long golden blonde hair come to mind…and the smell of a horse…and arrows… Lots of arrows… I see a beautiful face leaning down to kiss me… My mother…and it is gone… I must be very pale because Miriel rushes over and grabs my shoulders. It may also because I am suddenly very dizzy and almost fall out of my chair…
Queen Fleur looks at me, worried, and excited. She asks, “You know the name? You remember something?” I shakily nod and say, “Just a flash. I saw my mother—briefly. She is…was beautiful. Long, golden blonde hair. I remember something about a horse…and lots of arrows… And that is all… Wait! There is one other thing… My mother’s face…it wasn’t the face of an Elf… My mother is—or was—human.”
”There is one other thing… My mother’s face…it wasn’t the face of an Elf… My mother is—or was—human.”
Miriel moans and says, “No! It can’t be true!” Queen Fleur silently gets up and leaves the room. A few minutes later, she returns with a charcoal drawing. She hands it to me and asks, “Is this your Helge?” I look at the drawing and nod uncertainly. I say, “Yes…and no. The face in my memory-flash was fuller; with stronger features. Not so…waif-like. And she did not have pointed ears…”
The Queen smiles and says, “It is as I suspected… Her appearance could have easily been changed through simple charms or wards. I am certain that you, Child, are my niece. One I had no idea I had—one that by law—your mother’s own law—should not exist!”
I shake my head…trying to understand what I had just heard. I ask in a shocked voice, “You are saying that you are my Aunt?” Queen Fleur nods and says, “Yes, Child—I believe so. That means several things. First, you shall not address me as ‘Queen’ anymore—you have more right to that title than I. Although, many will argue that point, based on your Halfling status. Second, you shall call me by my name—or Aunt. You may call me Fleur, if you wish—I would prefer my Elvin name, Lothiriel—it is pronounced, ‘Loth-ear-ee-ell’. Say it.” I force my mouth to pronounce her name several times; after I protest that she is still the Queen in my eyes.
Once she is satisfied that I can properly pronounce her name, she says, “Third, it means that we must accelerate your training and education. This will ultimately come to be known…and you must be prepared. You will start in the morning with learning the language and the proper use of a bow and arrow. It is late—we should retire for the night; tomorrow is going to be a busy day.” Miriel says, “Yes, Mother.” I say, “Yes, Qu…” I blush and say, “Yes, Aunt Lothiriel.”
I stand in front of my wardrobe—perplexed. It seems to have decided that I am a girl now. It had only provided me with nightgowns last night—I finally gave up and put one on because I was tired. This morning it is only providing me with girl’s clothing. This is a problem for me—the Qu… My Aunt and Miriel are the only ones, well…besides the Black Witch, that know that…internally…I am a girl. If I dress as one…I will be doubly ostracized and laughed at by the Elves in the realm. First, because I am a Halfling—and second, because they will think I am…a crazy Halfling…
I sigh; I can’t seem to convince the wardrobe any different. I put on the least girly things I can find in the selection, which isn’t saying much, and go down to the dining hall for breakfast. It is strange, though, the clothes feel right… I just know that I am going to be accepted even less in them. I enter the hall and Aunt Lothiriel and Miriel are already there. As usual, they have beat me to breakfast. They both smile when they see me and Miriel says, “You look nice, Brooke. I see you have decided to embrace your inner girl.” I sigh and say, “The wardrobe made that choice for me. I am afraid it will cause people to shun me even more, though.”
Aunt Lothireal says, “Not around here, they won’t. I have made it very clear that it will not be tolerated. You let me know if anyone treats you with disrespect.” I can only think about how that will just make it that much worse, but keep my mouth shut—and my thoughts closely to myself…
After breakfast, I am introduced to Istuion. He tells me it is pronounced, ‘Is-too-ee-on’ and would be ‘Clark’ in English—which means ‘Learned’. Istuion—I practice his name a few times—is to be my tutor. Starting with High Elvish—the main language of the Elves; later history and other subjects will be added. I spend the next several hours learning to read, write and speak Elvish.
After lunch, Miriel takes me back to the weapons grounds and I practice with a bow and arrow. I surprise even myself at what I can hit—and from what positions or distances. Miriel keeps pushing my limits, though. At the end of the session, I am dizzy and weak—as if I had expended large amounts of physical energy; which I hadn’t. It puzzles me. Miriel says, “You seem to be somehow tapping into the magic that you possess as a woman. But, because you are having to reach through the small crack in your ward, it is both limiting your ability and causing you to expend a lot of energy.”
I give her an exasperated look and say, “That is limited ability? I thought I was doing well!” Miriel giggles and says, “Well, for a Halfling boy, you are…pretty decent.” I playfully shove her and we go to the dining hall, where I am happy to find a platter of beancakes waiting for me.
The next several weeks are basic repeats—daily Elvish lessons followed by archery. While I am getting much better at the language, my archery skills seem to have come to a standstill. I am really good—but not as good as Miriel thinks I should be able to be. And I am always really tired after the sessions.
I also have not made any leeway in changing the wardrobe’s insistence in only providing me with girl’s clothing. I finally give up—but, when Miriel or my Aunt are not around, I still catch a lot of nasty glares from the other Elves around the ‘town’. I know I am neither welcomed, nor accepted by them. They still do not know my suspected heritage, though.
Several search parties return over the weeks, as well. They are still searching for Ainathiel, my suspected mother—and true Queen of the Sylvan Elves. So far, there has been no sign of her. At random times, I will catch mental glimpses of her blonde hair or a quick vision of her hugging or kissing me. Try as I might, I cannot break the veil of amnesia, though…and I have not caught any glimpse of my father at all.
And so, my first three months in the Elven Realm pass…
I stand moping in front of the wardrobe. I don’t really know what to put on. I guess it really doesn’t matter…Everyone hates me anyway! I don’t know why, but I am in a really depressed and emotional mood this morning. I hear a voice in my head, ”Wow! That came through loud and clear, Cousin. Why are you broadcasting like that? And…who hates you?”
I blush and Miriel comes into the room, looking as prim and beautiful as ever. She looks at me, concerned, and asks, “Well?” I shrug and say, “When you or Aunt Lothiriel are not with me, everyone scowls at me. They don’t usually say anything to my face—but their feelings are clear. I am not wanted here.” Miriel comes and hugs me. She says, “Brooke, some of that is just longstanding prejudice that we will have to break—and that will take time. People will have to get to know you in order to overlook what they see. Part of that, though, requires that you be more confident in yourself…show them that it is worth getting to know the real you.”
I look at her, not understanding. She smiles and says, “Look at what the wardrobe is presenting you. It is a hodgepodge of girl’s stuff. It is not presenting you with any sort of consistent style that speaks to you because you have not let it know who you are.” I complain, “I keep trying to get it to give me boy’s clothes—but it won’t!” She gives me a look and purses her lips, as she asks, “Is that what you really want?”
I collapse on my bed and feel tears come to my eyes. I wipe them and sniffle, as I say, “Yes…No…I don’t know…” I cry some more and Miriel remains silent. Finally, I wipe my eyes again and say, “It is so confusing. When I see my body…it is a boy’s. When I look inside myself, I know I am a girl—but everyone else sees that boy… How am I supposed to deal with that?” She smiles and says, “By showing everyone that you are a girl. First, you have to convince yourself, be confident of who you are—then the others will follow your lead…eventually. I am not saying it will happen overnight—I am not saying that it will be easy… But, I am saying that I am here for you, Cousin. Mother has not let out who we suspect you are, yet. We want people to accept you for you first. Then they will respect you in your rightful position—once it is revealed.”
I shake my head and say, “I don’t want that—you know that.” She smiles and says, “We rarely want the responsibilities that life throws at us. There is a reason you are here—we just have to figure it out. Now, how about we find your true style and just take the day off? I think you deserve a little fun time.” I jump up and hug her. She giggles and we go to the wardrobe.
She helps me pick out a dress—I have never worn one, but she is insistent that it will ‘send a message’. She helps me into the underclothes and the dress, then the thigh-high, soft Elven boots that go with the style. She says, “Now, you are still a bit young for full makeup, but a little here and there will never hurt. I started when I was…well when I looked to be about your age…”
While she is putting the makeup on me, I ask, “So, how old are you, Miri? You look about sixteen in human years—I know that means you are much older than that, though.” She smiles and says, “Yes, I would be about the equivalent of sixteen human years from an Elven lifespan perspective. In reality, I am about 300 human years old.” I gasp and she giggles, “Hold still, or I will mess this up!”
I look at myself in the mirror when she is done—and…know that it is…right. I see a cute little Halfling girl looking back at me… There are no signs of the outward boy that my body forces me to deal with. All that shows is the inward girl—and tons of confidence that this is right.
I take a shaky breath and say, “Thank you, Miri. This feels right. I feel better already… That is, until I go outside…” Miriel says, “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that today. We are going to go out into town and have some fun! You will be having some cute boy Elflings eating out of your hand before the day is out, or my name is not Miriel!”
Well, I did not have any Elflings eating out of my hand that day. But I did start coming out of my shell that day. Slowly, my confidence has been growing and I am being…well, tolerated, if not fully accepted yet. Tomorrow marks my sixth month here and Aunt Lothiriel has announced that there is going to be a party at the castle. It happens to be a coincidence that my sixth month mark falls on the Elven Day of Thanks—a big fall festival.
Miri comes in as I am contemplating what to wear for the day. She says in Elvish, “Good morning, Nellethiel.” I am fairly fluent in Elfish now, and Miri has started using the Elvish version of my name. I respond in Elvish, “I am good this morning, Miri. How are you?” She smiles at my use of the language. She goes to the wardrobe, looks in, and says, “You are getting really fluent, Cousin. I am fine. Get dressed—we need to teach you some dances for tomorrow.” I look at her, confused, and ask, “Dances?”
She looks over her shoulder on her way out and says, “Yes, you know…moving to music.” She giggles at me and I roll my eyes as I say, “I know what dancing is. Why do I need to know how to do it?” She says, “Because there is a ball here in the castle tomorrow night…and you have a date…” And she ducks out.
The thing is, I have finally figured out the telepathy thing works. So, I blast her, A DATE? What do you mean, I HAVE A DATE? I hear, ”Get dressed, Nellethiel!” After that, I can’t get any more response from her. I look back in my wardrobe and blink. She had done something…and now there were only ball gowns to choose from… I groan and pick out a peacock blue gown that looks really pretty…
I glare at Miri as I eat my breakfast. Aunt Lothiriel is not around; something about getting things organized for tomorrow. As soon as I am done, Miri takes me to the ballroom. She introduces me to Laermeluion, which I know means, ‘Man with a sweet song’. And indeed he does have a sweet voice. He is also a persistent and competent dance teacher. And, surprisingly, I am a good learner. After I get over the fact that I am dancing with a cute guy and settle into focusing on him, I discover that I have a certain grace and really good balance. When we are done, after several hard hours, he says, “Lady Nellethiel, I would be honored to continue teaching you to dance. You have a true talent and unparalleled feminine grace—this is true proof in my mind that you indeed are not the boy some think you to be. I think that others will see that tomorrow, as well, when you dance this gracefully at the ball.” I blush and thank him with the curtsey that he had taught me.
Miri and I eat alone again. I blush the whole meal, since Miri teases me mercilessly about how well I danced with a guy. I go to bed early, partially to get away from Miri’s teasing—and partially because I am just worn out.
I sleep deeply and have vivid dreams of my mother. I plainly see her…and then my father. They are fighting trolls…and I am being carried away on a horse… I wake up, but can’t remember any of what I was dreaming. I stretch, perplexed that my dreams are hidden from me, but refreshed from the sound night’s sleep. Then, I remember what the day is about and hurry to my wardrobe to get dressed for the day’s festivities…
I stand there nervously. I am in a beautiful white, feathered ball gown—made up to the nines. The day had been full of festivities and they had been wonderful, but I had been largely ignored. I am the youngest person in the ballroom, no doubt. However, I bet I feel like I am one of the most beautiful—I feel like a beautiful swan in this dress. Nervous as I am, the confidence I feel also shows.
Miri introduces me to Meldiron, my ‘date’. I smile, thinking that the name means ‘Friend’ in English. I am now speaking primarily in Elvish…and thinking less and less in English…but, every so often, I still translate things in my head. Meldiron takes my hand and we are off to the dance floor.
My first dance with him surprises everyone—including him. My second one elicits gasps—it is obvious it was not a fluke. From there, many of the younger Elves cut in…then older ones, as well. I am flushed after several dances and decide to get a drink. One of the older Elves, with bright red hair, is dancing with me at the time; he accompanies me to the refreshment area. He pours some fruit nectar into a punch glass and hands it to me with a smile…
I gasp as a picture of a red-headed human pops into my mind. I nearly drop the glass as I reach for the table behind to steady myself—as I am flooded with memories…
I nearly fall to the floor as I picture the scene… My father attacking a troll with his bloodied sword. My mother unleashing a volley of arrows at a hoard of the beastly creatures descending on my father. Me hanging on to a horse galloping away towards the forest. A branch…and darkness.
I fall to the floor…hugging myself… I sob, “I abandoned them… I left my parents to die!” The ballroom goes silent and Miri rushes to me. She takes my head into her lap and strokes my hair. Aunt Lothi pushes her way through the crowd and helps me up, with Miri’s assistance. She looks at me with concern and asks, “You saw Ainathiel’s death?” There are gasps around the room. I look at her and shiver. I view the scene over and over in my mind.
I shake my head as the scene replays itself again. I say, “No, I did not see my mother…or my father…die. They were being attacked by mountain trolls…and I was on a horse riding into the forest. My father was fighting a troll with his bloodied sword… My mother was unleashing a volley of arrows… And…I was riding off into the forest…leaving them…!” I sob again… I say through more sobs, “My Mom sent me to the forest to find you… I…I…I hit my head on a branch… I just remembered…” I look at the elder Elf and say, “Your red hair; your kindness to a girl—giving her a drink…; it triggered my memory… My name is…was…Roland… My Father’s name was…George…”
All of a sudden there is a loud buzz in the room. Aunt Lothiriel commands, “Silence! Roland? A good Elven name… Tristimdorion – Famed throughout the Land… Your Mother was sending a message… But… Your Father’s name? George... Is…was he red-headed…?” She whispers to one of the servants who bows and quickly rushes off. My Aunt looks back at me and says, “Calm down, Nellethiel…we both know that is the more appropriate name for you… We will figure this out…” The servant hurries back and hands my Aunt a picture…another chalk drawing… She hands it to me…and I gasp. It is the image of my father. I feel tears come to my eyes as I moan, “Father! How do you have a picture of my Father, Aunt Lothi?”
There is no stopping the buzzing at that point. Aunt Lothi claps her hands and the room is quickly emptied out. Aunt Lothi looks at me. The look is one of total incredibility. She sort of mumbles to me, “So, you are saying that you are the hidden daughter of my missing sister, the rightful Queen of the Elves, and George, the missing King of the humans?”
I don’t fully understand what she is saying, but I suddenly feel faint and…
I come to in my bed. Miri and Aunt Lothi are sitting there; obviously worried. Aunt Lothi sees me come to and exclaims, “Thank the Goddesses! You are awake! Nelle, quickly! Tell me everything that you can remember!” Miri hands me a few pieces of melon as I sit up. I blink the weariness from my eyes, sensing that this is somehow important. I take a bite of melon and concentrate…
I relate every detail of that day, now six months ago, that I can now remember. Aunt Lothi asks for details every so often. I answer the best I can. Finally, after several minutes, she looks at Miri and says, “Get a small, fast party together. You will leave within the hour.” Miri nods and hurries off.
Aunt Lothi goes to my wardrobe and pulls out some traveling clothes. She tells me to get dressed. She says, “Hurry, niece-of-mine. You must go with Miri. It is important!” I start to ask questions, but she is gone before I get a chance. I hurry and put on the loose fitting clothing; very feminine, but fit for moving quickly through the forest.
Miri comes and gets me a few minutes later and takes me to the ground below. There is a party of several male Elves waiting for us. They bow to both of us and say something about being ready. Miri hands me a quiver and bow…one that I can tell is very special. She says, “It was your Mother’s first bow. You will connect with it well. Now, we must hurry!”
And we start running down the path that had brought me here half a year ago. It is a paced run, but eats up the distance quickly. I am surprised that I can keep up, but it is not too much of a problem. Miri hands me a beancake that I eat on the run. She doesn’t answer any questions for the better part of an hour. As we get close to where I know I had crossed into the realm, we take a left turn and she says, “We will know in a few minutes…”
We approach the golden-shimmering veil that I recognize as the protective border to the Elven Realm from the human one. There is a strange mist between us and the veil. We stop short of the mist and Miri hands me two beancakes and says, “Eat. Hurry!”
I reply, “No! Not until you tell me what is going on.” Miri closes her eyes and says, “Eat your protein and I will explain.” I roll my eyes and eat the two cakes. Miri grabs my hand and pulls me towards the mist and says, “Come and you will understand. It is imperative that you come. Have your bow at the ready!”
And we enter the mist… I am vaguely dizzy as we cross the mist… Then we hit the golden veil… I feel the tingle and we are through…
And I see my parents fighting the trolls; completely outnumbered…
I don’t hesitate. I grab my first arrow and nock it… I dance between the trolls and the first arrow lodges between his eyes from two hundred paces. The troll’s eyes roll into the back of his head and he drops as I spin, nocking another arrow and shooting at another troll. I see my mother shoot at the same one and our arrows both hit dead center. The troll drops dead… This ‘dance’ continues for what seems forever…
And then, it is over. The trolls are all dead…and I drop into a dead oblivion….
I come to…hungry…and weak. I look up and see Miri; she is holding my hand… I look over and say weakly, “Mother! How? I don’t understand! It has been six months…!” Her face shimmers and she is clearly an Elf… She smiles at me and says, “My daughter! You are alive! You found the Elves! Good girl! I knew you could do it! You saved us, daughter-of-mine!”
I look up and see the clear image of Ainathiel that I remember from the chalk drawing. I look over and see the bloodied face of the same image of ‘George’ that I remember from the other chalk drawing. I am so confused—but so happy!
I blink…the same images are still there… I say, “I don’t understand…it has been six months… Mother? You are an Elf—and the Queen? Father? King George of the Humans?”
Both laugh and Miri hands me several beancakes as she helps me sit up. I hungrily devour the cakes and look at my parents…
Mother smiles and both parents hug me. Mother says in Elvish, “I understand from Miriel that you have chosen the name of Nellethiel…and why. I concur, my sweet daughter. I also understand that you have embraced your true self…” I look up at her and nod—wide-eyed. She closes her eyes and sings a beautiful song in Elvish that I recognize from long ago…
I feel the crack in the ward widen…then split wide open…and then fall away…
I feel my body changing… I am becoming the girl I know I am… I am also…maturing… And I black out again…
I open my eyes and look into my Mother’s face. I see her clearly Elven features looking down at me and reach up to touch her pointed ears. I say, “I don’t understand…”
She smiles at me and says, “I will explain it all later. We need to get back to the Elven Realm, now! There may be more trolls—or worse—coming for us. You are safe now, sweet daughter-of-mine. You are safe—and so are we…”
We quickly pack up our things and start moving. I feel different, but don’t have time to dwell on it…
We reach the golden veil and pass through… There is no mist this time; but we stop shortly after passing through the veil…and settle down to rest. One of the male Elves hurries off, to alert my Aunt, but the rest of us stop and set up camp…
I finally have a chance to take account of myself. I feel different. Miri looks at me with a…surprised…look. Before I can ask, my Mother comes to see me and asks, “Nelle, Miri says you prefer that over Nellethiel… Nelle, how do you feel?” I look at Mother and say, “I have no idea! I thought you and Father were dead! That is…taking into account that I could not even remember you! How do I feel? I find out…no thanks to you, that I am likely the daughter of the Queen of Elves. THEN, I find out…again, no thanks to you you…that I am ALSO the daughter of the King of humans… And THAT is after that I find out that I am the DAUGHTER and not the SON of ANYONE! HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL? Oh, AND HOW IN THE DEEPEST DUNGEONS OF THE GODDESSES’ WORST VISION OF HELL ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?”
My Mother—and Father—BOTH laugh. Mother says, “I understand your confusion. No, Sweetie—I DO! I had to bind you as a young daughter—disguised as our prepubescent son to hide you from prying eyes… That was almost a hundred human years ago—I bound you as a pre-pubescent boy…to protect us all. I will explain all in more detail later…but, now, we have a chance to win… A chance to unite Humans and Elves—through your Father—and me, through YOU… You have to understand that when the ward was broken—well, it broke the binding that kept you prepubescent as a boy… You have caught up lost time as a pubescent girl…” And I fall back into an exhausted, dreamless sleep…
I come to…it is pitch black—but the stars in the sky are bright. Mother is sitting there holding my hand… I blink the exhaustion from my eyes and accept the offered beancake from her. I sit up and bite into the cake. I take another large bite and hungrily swallow it. Before I take another bite, I ask, “Mother? You are my Mother, right? You are the Queen of Elves, right? How…?” I take another bite of beancake, chew it, and swallow… Absent an answer, I ask, “I don’t understand… How can you still survive after six months…?”
She smiles and squeezes my hand as she says, “Yes, Nelle. I am your mother. Yes, I am the Queen of Elves. And I survived because you came back and saved me…and your father… Before you ask, yes, he is the King of Humans… I know you are confused… I will explain more, later… But, time flows differently in the Elven Realm. Six months in that Realm can be like six seconds in the human realm…or six thousand years… Do you remember passing through a mist on the way to us? That is a true time…mixer…”
I blink…and ask, “So…what does that make me?” She laughs and says, “My…OUR beautiful daughter. When the binding broke, it reversed the…necessary prepubescence…and reversed the male ward. You had been bound to not entering puberty for many human years… You made up for that in…moments…when the ward was broken—as the girl you were born to be. You now are the equivalent of a sixteen-year-old human girl…or a nearly three-hundred year-old Elven girl. Either way…you are a girl on the very precipice of becoming a beautiful woman!”
I look at her confused. I see Miri and she nods and smiles… Both hold my hands and I stand…I look at my reflection in the nearby brook…the one I am named after. I gasp as I see the beautiful copper-haired young woman with the pointed ears… The one that is a mix of the bright red-headed Human King and the golden-blonde Elven Queen. I appear to be about the same age as Miri…and just as beautiful… Somehow, I know that I don’t just appear that way…I am that girl now…even outwardly…
Miri says, “Yes, Nelle…you are now fully a girl… When your ward broke…you…well, you caught up with your…heritage…” I sigh and say, “I still don’t understand… It has been six months… How are you both still alive…? And…how did I gain six years of human…maturity…? Which I know relates to much more in Elven terms…”
Miri laughs and says, “Silly, cousin-of-mine! Mother and I have told you that human and Elven timelines are not synchronized… It was not hard to find the timeline that your parents were fighting the trolls…especially since they had not perished in your memories… The mist transferred us to the proper timeline…”
I close my eyes and thank the Goddesses. Then I ask, “And what now?” Mother answers, “Now, we go and answer to my People…”
“Now, we go and answer to my People…”
I am tired, but not bone-weary anymore. It seems that when the ward broke, so did the energy-sapping blackness that would overtake me every time I did anything that called on my true self’s power. I am not craving protein as much, either, it seems. I sit and look into the fire. Father is sitting on the other side and I get up to go sit by him.
He smiles at me and says, “You have turned into the beautiful daughter that I knew you would be. How are you feeling, Brooke?” I smile at him…it has been quite some time since anyone called me by the English version of my name. I say, “Tired…but strangely energized, as well.” He nods and says, “There is much you will have to learn about yourself in the coming months… Drakyre will know you exist by now…and you must be prepared.”
I look at him and ask, “Drakyre?” He looks at me intently and says, “He was once human; he called himself Drake Valkyre because he claimed to be a descendent of the Valkyrie. Over time, his name has been shortened and contracted; he is now known only as Drakyre.” I nod and say, “Aunt Lothi has told me a bit about him… He bound himself to a demon spirit and is slowly taking over the outer realm?”
Father nods and says, “And he won’t stop there… We have to get the elves and the Humans back together…if we are to have a chance to hold him back. We would need for the dwarves to join us to even have a chance of defeating him; something I am not sure can be done—getting the dwarves to join us, I mean.”
I listen to the fire crackle a few moments and let what he said sink in. Then I look back over at him and ask in a small voice, “Father, Aunt Lothi said something that I don’t understand. She said that you were the ’missing’ king of the humans… Then, Mother said that I was bound to the ward nearly a hundred years ago—yet that I am the equivalent of a three hundred year old Elf—or a sixteen year old human. All of that makes no sense… I mean, how could you be that old…even if I could figure it all out…?”
He laughs and says, “Trying to figure out elven timelines will drive you crazy, Brooke. Your Mother also cast a ward on me…and we have existed in a time warp of sorts for the past hundred years. For all the human world, I have been missing… It was made known, however, that I was still alive and will return to take my rightful place. I am afraid that some of my relatives have been running the kingdom and it is in quite a mess. It is high time that I get back and set things straight.”
He strokes his bright red beard and looks at me for a bit before he continues, “As for your age… Let’s just say for now that the mix of your Mother’s ward, your Elven heritage, and some unique attributes of my family line have come together to produce the girl that you are at this moment in time. It is very complicated, but it is also exactly as it should be.”
At that moment, Aunt Lothi strides into the clearing with two male Elf escorts. I jump up and hug her before she has a chance to say anything. She holds me at arm’s length after we hug and says, “Nelle? Is that really you? Of course it is! My—you have grown!” She smiles and looks over my shoulder—her smile fades. I sense my Mother behind me and step aside. Mother says, “Hello, Lothiriel. Thank you for looking after my daughter.”
Aunt Lothi has a shocked look on her face. Then she scowls and asks, “That is what you have to say to me after just disappearing? I did not even know you had a daughter. Let alone one from a human father. That goes against your own law!” Mother quietly keeps her calm and says, “Yes, that is what I have to say, first--because it is the most important thing to me. Later, when I explain myself in full, you will come to understand that it is also very important for us all.”
Aunt Lothi looks a little taken back…then thoughtful…then she comes over and hugs Mother. She asks, “Where have you been, Ainathiel? There was no sign of you anywhere. It was as if you had disappeared from the face of Mother Earth. It is good to have you back!”
We all sit down by the fire after Aunt Lothi and Miri are introduced to my Father; it turns out they, of course, knew of him, but had never actually met him. Then Mother starts telling the story that we all have been craving to know…
We all sit, enthralled, by my Mother‘s story. She explains that it all started with a visit to sacred Oak… “Nelle, you don’t know this, yet, but it is the Queen’s duty to communicate with the sacred Oak in the middle of the forest. It is the largest and oldest tree in the forest—and has a connection to all of our spirits in the Queendom. It acts as a filter for our souls—cleansing them and purifying us. You will have just celebrated the Elven Day of Thanks? That is in celebration of the Oak. Its deep roots and connection to Mother Earth is what allows it to do so. It is the Queen’s duty to see to the health of the Oak.”
I sit there wide-eyed and listen. This is not news to anyone in the group, but me—but I am really grateful that Mother explains it to me. She continues, “My last visit to the Oak was shocking…there is a poison deep in the ground—where the deepest and oldest roots of the Oak go for nourishment. It is flowing in from the outer realm…and is the doing of Drakyre. So far, the Oak has been able to resist the poison, but its defenses are weakening as the poison grows stronger… It sent me to the Ancient Forest for advice.”
Aunt Lothi and Miri both gasp at that. Aunt Lothi says, “It did not tell me…” Miri says, “The Ancient Forest? And you went alone?” Mother nods and says, “Yes. It was my duty as Queen—I did not want to endanger anyone else. Lothiriel, it did not let you know, because there was nothing for you to do. Nothing you could do.”
She looks at me, knowing I don’t understand, and says, “Nelle, the Ancient Forest is a very large forest in the human realm that is made up of thousands of Sequoia Trees. They are millennia old and know of things that no other beings connected to Mother Earth can. They are also very difficult to communicate with…their minds are so vast… Elves have been known to get lost in the vastness…literally losing their minds… It was a risk I had to take…”
I shudder at the thought. Mother continues, “The other thing about the Sequoias…for them time is completely fluid. It can be difficult to divine what they say—it could be from the past, present, or future—or a mix of all, or none. Anyways, I set protective wards to hide myself and made my way to the Ancient Forest. The Oak had told me to visit with a very specific Sequoia… It took me some time to find it, but it was good I did… It is better at communicating…less confusing…than most.”
She pauses to take a sip of fermented fruit nectar and then continues, “I learned from the Sequoia that the Earth could be saved from the effects of the poison…the flow could be stopped. For this to happen, two special individuals are key… Two Elf-human Halflings… One that is also of mixed Darkness and Light—and one that is of mixed royal heritage…of both Elven and human royalty…”
There are gasps all around the fire…
I wake up to Miri’s insistent shaking and her whispering in my ear, “Nelle. Nelle… Nelle! Wake up! We are getting ready to leave… I wipe the sleep from my eyes and sit up. I groan, “What did we get? Two hours of sleep?” Miri nods and says, “Yes. That is plenty for an Elf. Get up! Here is some melon…” I groan and say, “But I am only half Elf…” I take the melon and quickly swallow it. Surprisingly, I am quickly wide awake, though, and ready to go.
We are in less of a hurry going back to the castle than we had been coming to my parent’s rescue. I walk between my parents and revisit the last part of Mother’s story, “So, Mother. After you got the information from the Sequoia, how did you convince Father to…well…, you know…?” Father laughs and says, “She was very convincing. She waltzed right into my castle, asked for an audience, and outlined her proposal… In reality it was a proposal… At first, our union was one of necessity… Over time, it has become much, much more…” He looks over at her fondly and she returns the look.
I muse, “And Mother, you realized that the Black Witch was the first of the Halflings mentioned…the only Halfling in existence. One that just so happened to meet the other criteria… But, that the second had to be your child… Yours…and Father’s…?” She smiles and nods, as she says, “Yes, it was the only solution that fit what the Sequoia foretold. It took quite some convincing—but, eventually, your Father saw the light.” She giggles and squeezes my hand.
I shake my head, still confused, and ask, “So…I still don’t understand what Vanmoriel and I have to do with any of this…” Mother shakes her head and says, “The Sequoia wasn’t clear on that either…at least not to me. All I know is that you are part of the key to opening relations back up between humans and Elves…and Vanmoriel is the other part. Once humans and Elves work together, the poisonous stream can be stemmed…”
I drop back next to Miri. It is still weird to be the same height as her… I say, “Miri, I don’t understand any of this. Do you?” She shakes her head and says, “No, Nelle. Not really… But, it looks like life is going to be interesting for the next little bit… Now, straighten up, girl! Look proud! You look good in your Mother’s clothes, by the way... You were just lucky she had some extra ones in her pack—or you would be walking into town naked, right now!”
She giggles as the group enters the edge of town…
NOTE: This is the end of the first book. As with all good fantasy tales, it has to be in at least a trilogy, right? If there is interest, I will start posting Book 2, soon. Just let me know!