Her breathe fogged her vision to the yonder. She waited for it to dissipate, so that she would be able to enjoy her last days at this place. She would be sorry to go, but she had no choice.
The green and orange rocks surrounding the Scottish Highlands looked exactly the same as they have been over the past fifteen years, but she could not get enough of them. The cold, winter sun reflecting on the seas beyond formed diamonds that glittered with every sway of the wind.
Her eyes scanned the horizon that was getting tinted with brown and grey clouds, and she sighed. It was the same all over, but she felt sad for Applecross, the village that she had stayed for so many years, and had come to love.
A pair of footsteps sounded behind her, and a younger looking girl came out, her face flushed. She was about a head shorter, and frail-looking. Her face was pale and soft as a petal, and seemed to radiate an unearthly glow. Her silky, golden hair flew behind as as she tiptoed out of the stone cottage in a haste.
"Aelanor!" she whispered, urgently.
Aelanor didn't seem to notice the urgency in her voice; her eyes scanning the neighborhood and then realising that there was none who could have possible heard, she said, "How many times do I have to tell you, Nimuel, I am not Aelanor. Aelanor is dead, and I am Emilia." She looked down as she said it.
Nimuel didn't get offended at her, in fact, she never did. And today, she had more important things to discuss. Aelanor could not die, because she was needed.
"Aelanor," Nimuel ignored the irritated huff, and plowed on, "we need to go!"
"Yes, I know. We can't stay at one place for more than fifteen years, lest the neighbors get suspicious of us not getting any older," Aelanor gave a sad sort of chuckle, "who, by the way thinks that immortality is a blessing."
"Aelanor, you mother is dying," Nimuel informed, bluntly.
Her eyes popping open, Aelanor gave a start.
"Have you started drinking ale, Nimuel? How on earth can I otherwise account for the words that come out of your mouth?" she stared at her, apparently lost at words.
"I am serious, Aelanor. Cugu came with a scroll tied to her legs, and it was from my mother. She says that Queen Gaelemar is sick, and the healers are unable to cure her," she said.
"But Nimuel," Aelanor gasped, still trying to make sense of the nonsensical words that were being issued from her mouth, "elves can't die. Death doesn't pay a visit to The Eternal Utopia."
"I know, but the world is changing. Perhaps Death will finally be welcome to The Eternal Lands," Nimuel said and looked towards the horizon too, which was being tinted with dark clouds from the new factories along the coast: a new plague to the human civilization.
A few minutes passed before Aelanor took a deep breathe, and said, "What about my father, Nimuel? Is his head still inflated with his colossal pride? Or is he ready to behave like an honorable parent, after all these years?"
"I don't know, princess," she replied, "but knowing your father and my uncle, I'd say, it would take much more than banishing his only daughter to the realms of the men to die for him to come around."
"I wish I could die as easily as he hoped I would," Aelanor said, "but the mortal world can only do so much. I would get older, and die, but slowly, too slowly. You should not have come with me, Nimuel. You didn't deserve to be punished for my misdemeanor."
"I would rather have a limited life with you, my princess, and my cousin, than a thousand eternities with the tyrants." Nimuel gasped, and said in a hurry, "I didn't mean to call your father one, princess."
"I didn't hear you calling him one," the princess smiled.
Nimuel smiled back and then seemed to come out of her reverie. Then she jumped.
"Hurry, cousin. We have a long way to go."
Aelanor stood up and dusted her long, white gown that had turned yellow in the tainted air of Applecross, and went inside the house. Standing in front of the cracked mirror on the wall, she looked at her reflection.
An elegant but strongly built humanoid, with a tanned, olive skin stood in front of her, her brown, thick mane of hair touching the back of her calves. Her light brown eyes were full of a fierce fire that came with the lineage of the House of Zauarn, or The Children of Fire. Her lips were full and pink which contrasted drastically with the rest of her strong build.
Aelanor parted her hair behind her ears, and unstuck her ear out of the glue that concealed them. There! She had no more reason for a disguise if she were going back to her homeland.
She unclasped the rustic brown belt and slipped out of her dress. The silver box that she had packed and brought from her home the night she was banished by her dear father was as light as paper, and she was opening it after some hundred years.
The elven clothes retained strength and luster, and Aelanor's forest-green unitard and brown vest looked as good as the day it was sewn. She got dressed in less than a minute and put her hair in a thick braid. She was just tying up her boots up her knees when Nimuel came in, already dressed in a rose gold gown, carrying a brown hood made of thick fur.
"I hope you have packed everything, Aelanor. The roads to The Eternal Utopia aren't very friendly," she said.
"Oh!" Aelanor said, and crouched on all fours to look under the bed. There, in the farthest corner of the room, was an age-old bow, and twelve arrows, glistening in the dark. She had forgotten about them; they were of no use in the mortal lands, if you were prudent enough. She pulled them towards herself, gave them a sharp look, and got ready to move out of the house. At the very last moment, she remembered the locket her husband had gifted her.
"There you are," she said, as she spotted it near her bed. The tarnished silver smiled on her hand, and she clutched them in her fist.
"I would have come back for you," she promised.
"I never really appreciated how much I have changed in all these years of living in the mortal world," Aelanor huffed, "the distance to the base of the Highlands is staggering.""Don't tell me you're already tired," Nimuel smiled through her eyes. She didn't look perturbed at all."We have been walking for almost two days, Nimuel, and I have long since forgotten how it feels like to be an elf again," Aelanor tucked the curls that had come loose behind her sharp, pointed ear, "how I wish I had your feather tread, and that light structure!""It's more than that, I have been walking up and down the hills for the past few months," Nimuel replied, "but you are welcome to feel envious of my innate qualities.""I do not envy you," Aelanor pouted."Right," Nimuel smirked, "anyway, I sent Cugu to ask for help; Jamim will meet us shortly at the base of the hills."Half
The clearing shifted to invite the sparkling moonlight in the dark forest. There was some rustling, and gigantic oaks and cedars and others appeared in the clearing, mouths hanging open, unable to believe."Aelanor?" an old voice wheezed."Is that you, Eriobuild?""Yes, my child. You have come back!"Aelanor ran blindly through the trees and the ents, who moved away to let her pass, and hugged the great tree guardian. Tears flowed freely from her eyes as her other friends from childhood formed a circle around her, looking happier than they must have been in decades."Oh, how we have missed you, dear Aelanor!" one of them cried."We thought we'd lost you," sniffed an older one.Aelanor looked all around her, smiling through her tears. All of her childhood friends were there,Ashshell andProtus and Borassus. They looked wea
"I must admit I was quite skeptical about you coming back to The Eternal Utopia, daughter." King Naemar said, "When you left, I thought you were a woman of your words. I suppose that vanished when that mortal husband of yours died, isn't it, Aelanor? Or should I call you Emilia?""Still an absolute delight, after all these years, Father. How you are able to maintain that cheerful disposition is beyond me," Aelanor rolled her eyes."We do not age, my dear, so we do not change, unlike you," he gloated. "And Nimuel, how charming to see you! I trust you do not have any regrets for following your cousin to mortality, and the abhorrent mortal world?""No, my King," Nimuel bowed, "I am quite content in the mortal world, and I do not regret my decision at all. I trust you are great yourself?""Yes, thank you," King Naemar scowled at her, unable to string any more insults, then turned to Aelanor. "What do you
"Mother!"A mortal lifetime of a hundred years was not enough for Queen Gaelamar to forget the voice of her daughter. Her eyes opened slowly, deep into the sockets of her pale, frail face. Her lips were chapped, and white, with green veins running like tree sap through them. Once a figure of great might and beauty, the Queen of the North looked nothing like her former self."Aelanor," she whispered, as she tried to pull herself on her elbows."Mother, I am here," Aelanor bowed down to the Queen's bedside, her face shocked and devastated. "Please, do not strain yourself much.""Oh, my daughter," Queen Gaelamar's face shined with hope and joy, something she had not felt in a long time, "I have no fear of anything anymore, my dear. You a
A raggedy-looking old man was sitting in the waiting chambers of the Queen. As the helpers levitated the bed directly into the room, the Queen weak and tired with all the excitement of the morning, Aelanor and Nimuel followed them."O, wise Shaman of the mortal lands, I welcome thee to the castle once more," the Queen said in a weak voice.The Shaman didn't seem to hear her. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be in some sort of trance. Not wanting to disrespect him, the elves stood there, silent.An eerie energy passed through the room, as everyone lost track of time. It seemed like hours, or seconds that the Shaman just sat there, apparently asleep. Slowly, he opened his eyes."I have never been to the elven lands before," he wheezed.The Queen looked confused as she said, "But, Your Reverance, you did come to us a few years back, and you said some words. Pardon us, o wise Shaman, but none of our counsellors could comprehend them, and you left
One of the helpers of the castle ran to the back of the palace to call Khoral and Nexus, while the two Females went back inside to see Queen Gaelemar before they ride off."Mother, please take care of yourself," Aelanor said."I will, daughter. I would have never let you go back, but staying here has never been more threatening. I trust you would be healthy and live out the rest of your life in comfort," the Queen said."When all this is over, I will be back. And we will be reunited as a family, in the end.""My Queen, don't worry about us, we will be alright. And you will, too," Nimuel told her."I don't doubt it, my child. Perhaps we will all hold out to the eternity, or enough to live our lives best in the time we are given. Perhaps, Death will visit all of us soon, and we would be gone, just like that. But in the end, we will know that we loved each other, and we will die knowing that.""Don't talk about Death, Mother. We are fighters, w
The long, wooden dining table in the main hall of The Golden Manor was decorated with an assortment of delicacies. As Aelanor and Nimuel sat down on either side of the table, with Lady Saelther in the front, they felt like they could inhale everything in front of them. A thick soup made of the elm greens, onions and heavy cream, sprinkled with dried herbs.Roasted emus and platters of baked and fried potatoes piled on with cheese. Southern beef stew made with Mapleshire wine, and beans. The mortal food was good enough, but Aelanor had missed the elven spread a lot, almost as much as she has missed her home. Gorging herself on the fare in front of herself, she lost herself in the flavors for a moment, before engaging in the dinner conversation that was going on around her. "...the islands in the South China Sea, Mother! All the fruits there were so delicious." "You preferred the oceans to the mountains, my dear? You father would laugh; he ha
"Shamans, or mortal human beings who can communicate with the voices of other worlds, are rare, and powerful beings who can venture into the immortal lands, in and out of the cosmic lands, without losing their sanity, and only a fragment of their lives in the journey. Six shamans are born in every century. They are granted a lifetime longer than that of the mere mortals, which erodes away as they venture into the lands which are unsuited to their physique. They are the messengers of the future in all of the lands, and that is why it is but their onus to keep journeying into the worlds. The Shamans can only enter one world at one time, unlike the immortal beings, who can travel through the portals without any consequence. These mortal beings, however, are not permitted, and may lose more than their lives if they attempt thus." Nimuel ran her fingers on the index, and turned the pages of the book. Aelanor leaned in, but Lady Saelther didn't move at all. Her eye