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.
“The streets are paved with polished green slate that reflects the light of the noonday sun, making the whole city look as if it were an extension of the Creator's grace. In winter, when the sea churns and foams, the spires cast a green shadow, transforming the coast into an emerald field of waves and sand.
“Each afternoon, the city fills with music and laughter. We boast six schools where the finest musicians study, teach, and compose. Each afternoon, the students take to the streets so the world can listen to what they have learned. In the evening, the masters give concerts in the city square. As a girl I would wait for hours and hours for the song masters to arrive, and listen until my mother would find me and take me home.”
“At night, the glow of a million lights shine more brilliantly than the stars in the heavens. In the spring, the moss of the listorlia grows on rooftops in infinitely intricate swirling patterns. In the light of the full moon it glows softly, and releases its snow white spores into the air, covering the streets in a blanket of sweet smelling wonder.”
She paused and sighed sadly. “I do miss it.”
“How could anyone leave such a place?” asked Weila. “Why would your people have come here to begin with, when such magic exists?”
Aaliyah smiled. “I look at your desert home and see far more magic. For all our accomplishments, we have nothing like the Blood of the Desert, or the Waters of Shajir. And our life is not without peril. I tell you of the best we have to offer. These are the things I love, yet not all there is. Beyond our borders live a brutish race of foul creatures. We call them the Morzhash. Though only the Creator knows what they call themselves.”
“What are they?” asked Gewey.
“We do not know for certain,” she replied. “They are twice the size of any human, stronger than any elf, and covered in thick black hair. Their faces are twisted and flat, with a swine like nose and narrow red eyes.”
“Are they intelligent?” asked Weila.
“They are cunning to be sure,” said Aaliyah. “And deadly, though, I do not know that they possess anything more sophisticated then a club or spear. They do not work metal and live in make-shift huts, as they hunt and scavenge the forests and jungles. Occasionally, we will find what remains of a camp, but we have never found any permanent settlements. As far as we know, they live a nomadic life.”
“It wouldn't seem like they could trouble your people too much,” said Gewey.
“For thousands of years they have been little more than a nuisance,” she replied. “They raid a village, or attack a traveler. We have captured a few. But have never been able to decipher their crude language. In fact, until the time of my grandmother, we had no idea they even had a language.”
Gewey tried to picture the creatures in his mind. “You say they raid your villages? Why?”
Aaliyah shrugged. “There is no apparent reason. They take nothing. They simply kill and destroy.”
“Why not hunt them down?” asked Weila.
“We have tried,” she replied. “For all their size and girth they move through the forest with amazing speed. And they disappear long before we can track them.”
“Still, it seems like a minor problem,” said Gewey.
“Until the past few years it has been,” she said. “But lately, their raids have become more brazen. They have begun to invade deeper into our land than they ever had in the past.”
“You think it is because of what's happening here?” asked Gewey.
“It may be linked somehow,” Aaliyah replied. “The Morzhash would certainly make formidable allies should the Dark Knight find a way to control them.”
The thought of massive savage beasts fighting on the side of the Dark Knight sent chills down Gewey’s spine. The Vrykol were bad enough, but should these creatures reach their shores, it could cause fear and panic across the land. “Let us hope the two are not related.”
Weila laughed, shocking Gewey out of his morbid thoughts. “Beasts or no beasts, I intend to see your city, Aaliyah. And may the Creator help any pig-nosed oaf that tries to stop me.”
Aaliyah smiled. “I would not worry. My city is one of three, and by far the oldest. The lands around us would burn to cinders before we let it fall. Though we did not come in great number to these shores, should the Dark Knight think to extend his grasp to my home, he will find that only the humans of this land could raise a larger army.”
“Your words give me hope,” said Weila. “I must admit, the elves of the desert have been alone for too long. Your arrival, Darshan, has brought us the hope of kinship.” She folded her hands and bowed her head. “I think that perhaps your arrival has saved us. A people cannot live without moving forward. We have become too set in our ways.”
Gewey reached out and touched her shoulder. “Darshan is a name given to me by a God. And yes, I am his son. But my father was a human. He raised me, and taught me to be the man I am. He named me for his father… Gewey.”
Weila’s face twisted as she tried not to laugh. “Gewey is a silly name for a savior.”
“Gewey is a human name,” he countered. “It will be the human in me that fights the Dark Knight. And I will either defeat him, or be destroyed. And should I win. If I somehow find a way…nothing will change. Your people will still be in the desert.” His gaze shot to Aaliyah. His passion swelled. “Your people will still be across the sea. The world will still be the world. Humans, elves, and even the Morzhash. Nothing will change. Once there is victory…
