More than two hours passed before he finished. The light of the morning sun had painted the sky red and purple. Gewey got to his feet, rubbed his neck and stretched his arms.
“Then it has come to pass,” Lyrial whispered to herself. “Your name…Darshan. We have heard this name before. It is the name of the one who will herald the end times. It is said that your coming precedes the reunion of the elves, and the upheaval of the world. The waging of a great war will remake creation and reveal to the elves, a new destiny.”
“I have no desire to involve your people in any war,” said Gewey. “I only came for the gifts of Gerath. Now that I have them, I intend to leave you in peace.”
Lyrial shook her head and smiled, as a mother speaking to an ignorant child. “The Soufis have gathered for war. The one you call the Dark Knight, is clearly behind it. He either intends to make war on us, or to march them from the desert and make war on you. Either way, we cannot allow it. If they attack us, then it will be their doom, but if they leave the sands…” Her jaw tightened. “I will not allow the filth of the desert to visit their horrors on the rest of the world. And if this Dark Knight would call on such people to fight for him, he has revealed to us his true nature.”
“What will you do?” asked Aaliyah.
“We have already begun to gather our forces,” said Lyrial. “And our scouts are watching every move the Soufis make.”
“Then you should take care to watch for the Vrykol,” said Gewey. “They are powerful and deadly. It was a Vrykol that killed Pali, and nearly killed Aaliyah. If they are with the Soufis, you must be careful. They can only die if you remove their heads.”
“I will inform my people,” said Weila, grimly.
“If the Soufis attempt to leave the desert, we will stop them,” said Lyrial, determinedly. “Once they are dealt with we will go west for the first time in many generations.” Lyrial got to her feet and looked at the statue, her arms across her chest. “And though this may be our end, we will not be idle while evil floods the world.”
“How many are you,” asked Aaliyah.
Lyrial turned back to Gewey, her chest swelling with pride. “We can raise an army of twenty-thousand in a short time. Twice that, if needed. But it would take longer.”
“And how many are the Soufis?” asked Gewey.
“They have three times our number at least.” Lyrial smiled viciously. “But they could have ten times that and still they could not hope to defeat us. It is long past time we dealt with them once and for all. The atrocities they have visited on the people of this land will finally be avenged.”
“I would hear more of your people,” said Aaliyah. “Your desert is filled with wonders I have never dreamed of. The scholars of my land could spend generations studying the Blood of the Desert alone. And this.” She pointed to the statue. “Who built it?”
Lyrial sat and crossed her legs. “It was here long before we arrived. The legends say it was built by the Gods. As far as our tales…it will be a pleasure to tell you of the desert. For all my people's merits, they care little for my stories.”
“That's not true,” Weila protested, jokingly. “I have listened to you ramble on for six-hundred years and never complained.”
This made both Aaliyah and Gewey's eyes shoot wide.
“How old are you?” asked Aaliyah.
Lyrial smiled. “I am seven-hundred and four. But Weila is far older.” She could see the confusion in their expressions. “This surprises you?”
“Indeed,” said Aaliyah. “I am nearly three hundred. The elders of my land rarely see six. How is it that you live so long?”
Lyrial thought for a moment. “Perhaps it is that we do not steal life from the earth. Perhaps that power shortens your own life.”
Aaliyah looked closely at both Lyrial and Weila. “That may be. Or perhaps it is the desert itself that extends your life.”
Lyrial nodded. “That could be. It is said that the power of the Creator first gave life to the world here. And that it was here that the Gods were born. It could be our legends are more than just stories.”
“If it is the desert that extends your life,” said Aliyah, “then I fear what will happen if you try to leave it.”
Lyrial pondered this for a moment then said, “I cannot allow this to concern me. My people will not be trapped by our own mortality. We will know soon enough if what you suggest is true.”
“But-” started Gewey. Lyrial held up her hand, silencing him.
“There is nothing to discuss,” she asserted. “Our course is set. I will not dwell on it. Now if you still would like to hear stories of my people?”
“Of course,” said Gewey.
For the next few hours, Lyrial told them of how her people were exiled for protesting the enslavement of humans, and how they came to live in the desert. She spun tales of adventure, tragedy, and joy. She told them of their fight with the Soufis, and their protection of the humans from slavery. Weila looked bored and began dozing.
“Your people have lived a noble life,” Aaliyah remarked, once Lyrial had finished. “That you were exiled for objecting to the subjugation of humans connects with our own history.”
“A story you can tell me another time,” said Lyrial, rising to her feet. “I will not delay your mission any longer.” Weila handed her a small silver flask. She walked to the pool and filled it. “Take this.” She handed the flask to Gewey. “The Waters of Shajir are powerful. Their healing properties are unmatched. A single drop will heal the deepest wound.”
“Thank you,” said Gewey, bowing low. “It will serve as a reminder of your kindness.”
Lyrial bowed in return. “Once we have defeated the Soufis, I will march my people to the western edge of the desert. There we will await word from you. Weila will take you to the shore.” She smiled at Aaliyah. “I look forward to our next meeting. Please tell our kin that we are overjoyed to reunite with them.”
Aaliyah nodded. “I will. I know they will feel the same. Your friendship will be of great value in the days to come.”
Lyrial took one last, long look at Gewey, then smiled. Gewey watched as Lyrial turned and walked away.
“Come, Darshan,” said Weila. “If we hurry, we can have you back to the shore by nightfall tomorrow.”
“I wish we had more time,” said Gewey.
“I agree,” said Aaliyah. “We should send an envoy here as soon as possible.”
“But what if you're right?” Gewey couldn't help but think about what would happen if the elves left the desert. “What if it's the desert that lets them live so long?”
Weila stopped in her tracks. “My people will not sacrifice their honor for a long life. Do not think on it any longer.”
“How long do you live?” asked Gewey.
“Our elders see nine hundred years or more,” she replied. “But think on this. I heard your story. You have lived more in your short life than any elf that walks the sands. I would give all of my years to live a life of substance, however short it may be. If we step off the sand and perish, it would be better than to have hidden ourselves away in fear and dishonor.”
Weila led them ten miles, to a similar rock formation that they had seen on the journey to the Waters of Shajir. This time the trip seemed to pass by much more quickly. Weila regaled them with tales of the desert with ceaseless energy.
“I noticed that during your recount of events you spoke very little of your homeland,” Weila said to Aaliyah. “Surely there is much to tell.”
“There is,” she replied. “More than could be told in the time we have.”
“Then tell me of your village,” said Weila.
Aaliyah laughed. “Well, my village is a city of more than one-hundred thousand elves.”
Gewey cocked his head. “Then, that's something I'd like to hear about, too.”
“Very well,” she said, laughing softly. “My city is called Parylon. It is on the shores of what you know as the Western Abyss, though on the other end, and many leagues away.” Her voice became distant. “To put is simply, Parylon is beautiful. Tall silver spires that glimmer majestically in the sunlight, dwarfing the redwood forest that border it to the east. Between the spires are lavish homes and stunning gardens. Halls of learning and meditation are built from the finest marble, and adorned with sculptures and reliefs lovingly carved by the greatest artisans the world has ever seen. One could spend a hundred years wandering the city and never see them all.