Something Wrong, Something Right!

Genre : Fantasy
Word count: 2031


      There is something wrong here, I can feel it The thought popped into my mind full blown in stark jagged fear.

          I was just withdrawing my mental projection from the mountain top where I had briefly interacted with my mother. I accelerated my re-entry into the real world and staggered for a moment on the crystal floor of the Projection room, at the highest point of the Observatory. I whooshed down to the ground, an empty sickness in my stomach.

          I should never have ventured out of the Lord’s home so late at night, in his absence. Indeed, there was no need to worry, but I was always a high stickler and my junior colleagues were want to refer to me, behind my back, as ‘Oldling’, half in jest, half because I fussed over every detail, they would mimic my frequent admonishment, “One can never be over-prepared.”

          My mother was in her thirtieth decade and now fading from her physical self. Once a renowned Temporal Advisor, she had retired to the mountains before her powers became erratic. An Advisor must always be right, they tested themselves with random problems and if one could not score perfect ninety-nines every day, they withdrew to meditate in those Retreats.  Some were able to return rejuvenated, for the Magik pulsed from the heart of those ridges, but many chose to just spend their life in vast stillness and peace.

          She had summoned me for a last counsel and imparted much that might be useful to our Lord one day. I could not have absented myself; she might have gone on, as we called the ending of physical life, before our Lord returned.

          Mentally torn, chastising myself, I chose to cross the short distance to my Lord’s dwelling with sandal clad feet whispering just above the blades of grass. A limpid waxing moon glanced over my left shoulder and painted the courtyard in pearly hues. There was much therein for the Moon to admire; but I, who cherished each shrub, each flower that grew there, spared it not a second glance now.

        At the entrance, I banked around the sharp curve of the approach and slowed into a cautious hover. The night darkness pressed against the thin cloak that covered my shoulders. Icy tendrils of air curled around my ankles as I inched my way forwards and moved further into the entrance passage. My unquiet mind magnified all input into threats.

          Bhadur and Shayr, the winged gryphons that guarded the entrance were curled around bases of the twin pillars that towered into the night sky. Shayr turned one liquid amber eye towards me and dipped his head in affectionate acknowledgement. Bhadur could have been a part of the chalcedony and jasper monument beside him. You’d never know that when he was a kit he had gamboled and gyrated with me in the skies, he’d grown into this majestic custodian with an impeccable regard for duty.

        At least nothing lurks without, Bhadur would have smelled trouble at ten kos

A unit of distance, about 1/8th of a mile

and all that would have remained here would have been the bloodied remains of the intruder. And if the intruder were too strong for both of them, then either one would have ‘called’ me, and their limp corpses would have lain here, before anyone were let past.

        I cast awareness ahead of me but met only a gray nothingness. I did it again … and again. Not a total nothing, for I could feel that the castle was still there, as were the people within, it was just that I couldn’t discern any thoughts.

          As Keeper of the Spaces I should have been able to sense at least the identities of the occupants, the broad strokes of the emotions and thoughts in the various rooms, some in more detail than others.

          At the very least, I should be able to sense the aura of the person who blocked my access, if he or she had the authority to do so. Blocking could not be done by anybody except the rightful occupant of that room – obviously their privacy was to be respected - and only if of their own free will. However I would still have been able to sense their well-being and persona, it was vital that I should be able to do so in my job. I was responsible for ensuring the balance of the space entrusted to me, for its harmonious existence.

          None in this era was able to shield his identity from me. That was not boastful conceit; I owed my position only to my ability, if another proved superior, that one would take over my job. But as yet, there was no challenger with abilities that approached within half of mine … none from our land at all events.

        Is this a threat from outside after all? A manoeuver from some Ultrament – one capable of high mental skills - from another outpost? But one would have known of the growing reputation of such a one and he or she would have staked his rightful claim to be considered as Magister, violence and stealth were abhorrent to Alesians.

          I clasped the silver smooth comfort of my ceilidh’s handle; glancing at the sacred word embossed upon it by my mentor. It was more than just a weapon, I could feel Srooya’s breath warm my own when I had it in my hand; his wisdom was in stream with my consciousness.

          The wickedly curving edge could rip open a chest of bronze. It could carve arabesques in flesh and sear the edge so not a drop was spilled. Its tip could pierce with precision of a needle-point and release a man’s life-blood with one skilled thrust. Yet I could chop herbs upon my palm without fear of injury, it was dangerous only to others. Oh, yes, it could also, with the help of the correct incantation, be inserted in any lock, to ease it open!

          I peeped around the corner, and was reassured by the bulky figure of Remarhh looming ahead of me. The ramparts of the castle rose solidly behind him, bathed in the golden glow of the luminators that stood at regular intervals on tall poles.

          I hovered speedily to the archway, which was the only visible sign of the fortification protecting the castle. The High One, herself, had designed the many mystic charms, which would repel any foolish invader. So why then was I fearful?

        What Ho! The words were impressed on my mind, but the overtones of bluff good humour, the rock-solid core of unconditional support that overlaid the message told me I was being hailed by Remarrh.

        Whither to, my harried friend? There was ribald glee at having caught me out in one of my rare moments of fluster, but Remarhh himself showed only stolid indifference on his gnarled face.

          I laid a gentle touch of warning upon his mind and rapidly made him aware of my misgivings. The Lord was away for a few days and the protection of his home and loved ones fell to the two of us. The Lady Leendis and her child Wanu, but a youngling of some three seasons, had been in my thoughts and happy until a few moments back. Then their aura had become ever fainter, until now I could sense nothing of either they, or of their many attendants and staff.

        Glamis was a small outpost of Alesia, the legendary nowhere land. It had been torn from Altlantis in its earlier days and hidden in full sight, upon the Earth itself, but invisible and indeed imperceptible to any. Think of it as a floating island hovering and drifting across the face of the planet. It had been experimental and we were all that left after the catastrophic sinking of most of our people. A few did escape and were the ancestors of what Earth people call magical creatures. My kind were Elvenvolk, progenitors of the elves.

        In recent decades, at least to the extent of my knowledge, there had been peace in the neighbouring holdings. Lords ruled wisely and there was food aplenty and the Balanced Life Cycle was maintained with the help of Magisters like the High One, who was from Glamis. Indeed eighteen of the twenty-one High Ones had been from Glamis, and two had been non-elven. Magick could be inherited, taught, or a combination of both. We had both the bloodlines and the knowledge and we were held in an awe bordering on reverence for that reason.

        However the High One had been called onward a few seasons ago and although her charms still held, we were all wary of being “marked”. Our reputation as Skilled Ones had protected us from any reprisals or preliminary skirmishes for dominance. A few of us, with myself at the head, had considerable skill with the Powers, and did our best to ensure a peaceful continuance until the Next could be proclaimed, although miserably aware of our comparative shortcomings.

        None has entered through this portal tonight, Space Keeper, and I sensed no ill foreboding upon my Perimetry, his formal response was automatic, dictated by the situation. He was referring to his mental checking of the castle’s perimeter, done effortlessly in some at timely intervals. His eyes turned upward and inwards as he confirmed the memories noted in some dim recess of his mind.

        He turned to glance at the Kife bushes that bordered the portal, the flickering wings of the myriad Kiflies that rested upon it was a gentle green. If danger was near they would first turn a warning blue then wing their way to every barrack to sound the alert. More danger could have them flash a bright candy pink or an incandescent yellow, but tonight they were resting, a reassuring viridian glow.

      What if somehow there’s trouble brewing within? There’s something beyond me there, how can I let it pass unchecked?

        He sensed my impatience not just from my thoughts but also from my fluttering robes, propelled by uneasy jiggling shoulders and dancing feet, as I turned inwards.

          Wait,insisted Remarhh, I shall come with you. Just let me short-lock the portal in my absence.

        I wiggled my pointed ears, sufficient to express my intent to go on alone.

        I have my ceilidh and my sealor with me, I signaled, in an attempt to allay the fears I myself had roused. The sealor was a thin golden ring upon my sixth finger, which could either shield me from most weapons, or direct a repelling or dissolving beam at any assailant. I wiggled the finger upon which it sat and it gleamed softly in response.

          I’ll summon you by mental beam if I require, remain doubly alert, I thus counseled my friend, who shared the vast guardian responsibility with me. I floated towards the castle and swiftly elevated myself outside the tallest turret, wherein reposed the Lady and Little Lord.

        The opacified windows defied my mental vision even, and remained steadfastly immune to all my probing. I sent a lightning bolt of power to it from my sealor, but the bolt hissed and died upon the pane.

        My antennae were quivering in alarm; I manouvered myself into the corridor, leaving a vapour trail from my frenzied rush. My abrupt rush ended before two heavily chased doors of gold. The golden doors pulsed and gleamed, strange patterns rearranged themselves swiftly upon its surface.

        In a panic I plied, I pried, I assaulted, I pleaded with the doors! They would not let me through. I was astounded, my ceilidh or powers had never so completely failed me before.

        Remarhh appeared beside me, breathless from his sudden journey, in response to my urgent mental summons. Yet, what could he do except join me in a helpless wringing of impotent hands?

        But before we even began to discuss the futility of effort, the doorway suddenly glowed red. Then it slowly faded to its normal light gold colour and the doors swung inwards with a soft sucking sound.

        Remarhh and I both levitated instantaneously to the Lady’s side. She lay peacefully in the canopied bed, her head turned into the pink pillows, her raven tresses unbound and tumbled. One hand on cheek, mouth upturned in happy dreams, her silk coverings gently billowed around her body.

        Praise to the High One, she was safe! We turned swiftly to the little one’s crib against the end wall. He was sitting upright in the enclosure, surrounded by a halo of soft blue light, which he was tapping, and batting with chubby hands to produce a faintly musical tinkling sound! He babbled and chortled; his chubby hands waving as he beckoned us forward, possibly fa or us to be his admiring audience.

        I fell to my knees in gratitude to the High One! Remarhh did likewise; we both knew what this meant!

        Although as yet untrained and unused to his vast powers, the Little Lord was himself destined to become our new High Magister! I should have known none other than a worthy successor to my mentor could have overcome my powers.

        Remarhh turned to me and beamed, Everything is all right now! I can feel it.

Note on Alesian Elves and their origin ▼

Alesia is a ‘hidden’ island, floating over the surface of the Earth, a part of it, yet unknown to it. It was once a part of Atlantis and they were experimenting upon ways to save themselves in case of catastrophe. Some have since trickled onto Earth and mingled with the magical life there. Atlantis was lost shortly after, before the technique could even be recorded as effective or duplicated, much as if Earth imploded just after settling up its first space colony.

The magical creature featured here is purely a part of only this fantasy work: The Alesian Elve, related to Earth Elfs, collectively known as Elvenvolk.

They are characterized by pointed ears, antennae, six fingers, and are powerful magical beings. They can levitate, thought transfer, probe mental emotions and even read thought patterns according to distance from the perceived object. They can channel mental energy with the aid of some magical implements to both protect and attack. However violence is abhorrent to them. They prefer peaceful co-existence with nature and respect all life forms.