to gather, but I wager that whatever it is you fight, did. They are wretched slavers that plague the sands. And though cunning and fierce, they would never gather in such great numbers on their own. They raid and flee.”
“I will say nothing more on the matter,” said Aaliyah.
Lyrial and Aaliyah stared into each other’s eyes, unblinkingly.
“What she hasn't revealed is me,” Gewey interjected. “I am what she will not tell you.”
Aaliyah stiffened then folded her hands.
Lyrial threw her head back in laughter. “You? And what could she reveal about you?”
“We came here to retrieve what was guarded within the Black Oasis,” he said. “They were gifts, left for me by my father…Gerath.”
Lyrial burst out laughing again. “You think a half-man is something new to us? You think us ignorant fools?”
“I am not a half-man,” Gewey asserted. “And it was not Aaliyah that burned the Soufis. I did it.”
“I see.” Lyrial stood. “So you claim to be a God, and not a half-man? That would be something indeed…if it were true. Of course, such an outrageous claim can be settled easily enough.” She held out her hand. Gewey took it and she led him to the edge of the Waters of Shajir. “Do not move.” In a flash she drew a dagger from her sleeve and cut the back of Gewey's hand.
Gewey winced as blood trickled into the shimmering liquid. The second it touched the surface of the water, the ground began to rumble. Beneath the waters, a billowing red cloud boiled up violently, rapidly covering the entire pool. Suddenly, a thunderous boom knocked them off their feet, as fire erupted from the urn atop the great statue, shooting hundreds of feet into the air. The fire spread out, then fell, raining down flames that disappeared in a blinding flash, just a few feet above the ground.
Slowly, the earth stopped shaking and the blood red water transformed back into its original blue color. Lyrial sat, eyes wide and mouth agape. Gewey got up and offered her his hand. She looked at him in awe, then after a long moment, allowed him to help her to her feet. He held her hand as he walked her back and sat down. Lyrial looked stunned, unable to speak.
Just then Weila ran over. “What happened?”
Lyrial motioned for her to sit. “It seems that this concerns all elves, Weila. You should stay.” She lean forward and stared into Gewey’s eyes. “How is this possible? Can the end times be here at last?”
“I don't know anything about that,” said Gewey. “But if you will let me, I'll tell you my story as well.”
Lyrial nodded. “Of course. Yes, please.”
Gewey recounted the events of his life, beginning with the death of his father. Several times he had to stop and back track, as he remembered details. Lyrial and Weila took a special interest when he told of his bonding with Kaylia, asking him three times to repeat it.
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
