“Bah, I coulda. I can do more than that with stone, boy. Why, half me chambers are covered in me own creation!.”
“Really! What can you do?”
Roakore stood and pointed to the rock he had just been sitting on. “Sit there, lad, if ye dare.”
Tarren sat. Roakore lifted his hands in Tarren’s direction and began to chant softly. Tarren yelped and held tightly to the stone as it began to rise into the air. Around the fire and over everyone’s heads the stone circled slowly. Tarren began to giggle. Faster and faster he circled on the stone until he was laughing hysterically. Roakore made the stone go so fast that eventually Tarren could not hold on. With a yelp the boy went flying through the air over their heads, end over end, and slammed into the ground with a thud.
If he was hurt he did not show it, for he ran back to the group, cheering, “That was great! Oh, boy, wait till I tell my sister I met a dwarf who can make people fly on stones!”
“Bahaha,” Roakore laughed as he slowed the stone and brought it to its place.
Avriel looked at the dwarf, intrigued. “It is amazing, the skill you have with the manipulation of stone, good dwarf. I have heard rumors that you dwarves have powers akin to our own. I see perhaps they are true.”
Roakore’s eyes lit up. “Akin to yours? That I doubt. ’Twas a gift given to Ky’Dren and his line by the gods. Do your powers come from the gods?”
“Our powers come from ourselves. But Roakore, you must be able to manipulate more than just stone.”
Roakore scoffed at that. “Bah, what else is there fer a dwarf, lady elf, but stone? Why would I want to be manipulatin’ anythin else?”
“You may be right; the manipulation of stone would be the most prudent power for a dwarf to possess. But I wonder, can you move…this tree limb, for instance?”
Just then a small limb from the wood pile floated into the air and rested at Roakore’s feet. He scowled at her.
“Now listen, elf, I ain’t needin’ to prove nothin’ to ye.”
Avriel put up her hands defensively. “I do not mean to insult you, good dwarf. I simply believe that the powers you exhibit over stone can be used on anything.”
Roakore settled a bit. “Well I simply don’t. I believe I can move stone, and so I can.”
“Ah, but if you believed you could move that limb, could you not do it?”
“But I don’t.”
“But what if you did?”
“I don’t be knowing ’cause I don’t be believing!”
Suddenly Tarren spoke up. “I believe I can move the branch, Avriel. But see?” He scrunched up his face and concentrated on the wood. Finally he gave up with a puff of breath. “I believe, but I can’t.”
Roakore kicked the branch. “Well, lad, that’s ’cause no gods gave ye or yer kin the powers.”
“It is because that part of your mind has not been awakened, Tarren,” said Avriel.
Tarren gasped. “So I could be taught? Could you teach me?”
Just then Zerafin approached from the shadows. “No, we cannot teach you. It is forbidden.” Avriel scoffed and leaned back on the grass. “Though many of us, including my sister, do not agree with the law, it has been laid down by the elders.”
Tarren sulked. “It sounds like a stupid law.”
Zerafin found a seat next to the boy. “It may sound stupid, but there is reason behind it. The elders fear teaching humans our ways. Such power in the wrong hands can lead to disaster, as is the case of Eadon. Many pure of heart have been corrupted by the power that our ways bring. It must never be abused, and it can never be used for personal gain, lest corruption and greed overwhelm the soul.”
“That’s the last thing we be needin’-a bunch o’ human Eadons walkin’ around,” Roakore said.
“The elders’ sentiments exactly.”
Whill had been listening keenly and something occurred to him. “What do the elders think of me, of my training in the elven ways?”
“Many are against it, but it is part of our dept to the kings of Uthen-Arden,” answered Avriel.
“What about the prophecy?”
“Many do not believe it,” Zerafin said.
“Really.”
There was a long silence, which was finally broken by Abram.
“Well, I believe it.”
“So do I,” said Tarren
“I always have,” Avriel agreed.
Rhunis gave Tarren a little shake. “I think with friends like these, anything is possible.”
Everyone laughed, Whill included, though he noticed that Zerafin had not concurred.
You were projecting again, Whill. Whill’s eyes moved to Zerafin. Yes, I also believe the prophecy.
Whill nodded, feeling foolish. I really need to learn how to stop doing that.
Roakore announced that the stew was done, and everyone filled a traveling cup and enjoyed the hot meal. After many helpings Abram sat back against a tree stump and lit his pipe. He looked up at the stars as he patted his belly.
“Ah, Mallekell is bright tonight.”
Both elves looked to the heavens at the elven constellation of Mallekell.
“Where’s Mallekell?” Tarren asked.
Avriel pointed. “There. You see those three stars? They are the center. From there you can make out the arms and sword, and that one there, the brightest one, is the eye of Mallekell.”
Roakore scoffed. “That there, those three an’ that one? That be the stars o’ Ky’Dren, ain’t no elf.”
“For you, good dwarf, it is of Ky’Dren,” Zerafin said. “But to us elves, it is of Mallekell.”
Roakore only scowled and shook his head. “That brightest star there, it’s the gateway to the Mountain o’ the Gods, it is, an’ nothing else.”
Whill knew nothing could be said to the dwarf about his belief, and no more was said on the subject by the elves. Tarren, however, cared not. He had learned already the history of Ky’Dren.
“So who is Mallekell?”
Avriel looked to the boy and smiled at his innocence. “He was the first elf to become enlightened since the ancient years, our first teacher in the ways of Orna Catorna. He gained enlightenment exactly 10,091 years ago. That is when the age of enlightenment began, and the reckoning of years that we use today.”
Roakore seemed jealous of the lad’s attention. “Our reckonin o’ years began with the settlin o’ the Ky’Dren Mountains. ‘Tis why it’s the dwarf year 5170. That’s also the human reckonin’, ye know, since ye humans never bothered with the reckonin o’ years till ye met us dwarves.”
Tarren ignored him, so interested was he about the first enlightened elf. “So-ten thousand years ago, eh, Avriel? What is enlightenment, anyway?”
“Enlightenment is a human word for a state of mind seldom reached. The Elvish translation is Orna Catorna. Our written history dates back hundreds of thousands of years, through many ages. The enlightenment of Mallekell ushered in the age of enlightenment, though it is said that we elves had such powers tens of thousands of years before.”
Zerafin took up the telling. “Of the many ages of the elves, there is one called The God Wars. It is written that elves had gained power as had never been seen upon Keye-Keye being the elven name for our world. The ancient elves had grown into two factions, and war had begun, much like what we have seen with the Dark elves and the Elves of the Sun.”
Avriel scoffed. “Exactly alike they are. We are repeating the past as we speak; the struggle of good and evil wages on. While some use the power to help others and advance our people’s quality of life, others only use the power for themselves. But once one goes down the path to personal power, he shall seldom return. The ego is a ravenous beast, and will stop at nothing to gain more.”
Tarren was enthralled. “So who won? Who won the War of the Gods?”
Zerafin bowed his head, a great sorrow showed in his stoic face. “No one. Both sides lost.”
Tarren looked disappointed. “But how can both sides lose? Didn’t good defeat evil? Didn’t the heroes win?”