SciFi and Fantasy Stories: New Life from Ashes: Part 8

Alleigha’s Secrets

Kepliar glanced around the small enclosure as his breath quickened. Aevala and Alleigha had convinced him that it would be a good idea, but now he wasn’t so sure. What was wrong with his hair just as it was? He didn’t like the strange elf that stood an arm’s length away. He didn’t like the brown bag the elf rummaged in, almost crawling in to complete his searching. He knew he wouldn’t like whatever cruel object the slate-haired elf would withdraw.

“Alleigha,” he choked out. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to do this any more.”

“Perasht,” she addressed him with the elfin name Aevala had bestowed on a whim during their tavern escapade. Her voice was a steady as it was smooth. “You have no reason to withdraw and every reason to continue. Your hair does not obey the laws that years of neglect should lay. See reason, child,” she murmured. “We will never be able to help what you have, and the new hair that will grow in will just add to the mess.”

“I don’t mind,” he grumbled as his heart beat against his ribcage. He looked up to focus on the lock of hair hanging down before his eyes. Alleigha had told him that his hair should be brittle and weak—nothing like the snarling mess of red mats.

He glanced back to the stranger, and his eyes leapt open as the elf withdrew a long, pointed metal object. Kepliar thought he was going to go mad with fear. What was that thing for? Surely, hair was not such a wild beast as needed that sort of tool! The only thing that object would be good for was for torturing him.

“No…” he breathed, shaking his head as his frantic fright leapt beyond control. “I don’t want this!” As he moved to stand and flee, his legs tangled, throwing him backwards off the low stool.

Alleigha rested her hands on his upper arms as she helped him stand and reseated him on the stool. He shook his head in terror as his eyes begged her to reconsider—to let him flee.

She smiled and patted the side of his face. “It is okay, child,” she whispered. “I swear I will not allow him to harm you.” Alleigha smiled once more before she turned to the stranger. She planted her angry hands on her hips and towered over the elf that stood at least as tall as she. “Kraffen! I informed you that he would not appreciate the more extravagant tools!” she grated. “I instructed you to bring something simple!”

“Why is Alleigha yelling?”

Kepliar jerked as his wings flailed, almost flinging him from the stool again in his nervous panic, brought to a point by Aevala’s sudden appearance and whisper.

“Sorry,” she offered as her brow furrowed. “I thought you’d hear me come.”

“Too distracted,” he tried to smile. He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “I don’t know what he brought, but I don’t want the thing near me.”

“Is that why Alleigha’s yelling?”

He nodded as he turned back to peek at the raging she-elf. Alleigha was nothing like the comforting presence they’d grown to rely on. Her stance was hard, and her words bitter. She wasted no sweet words for the elf that failed to follow her instructions. It was hard to believe she was the same she-elf that interacted with them on a daily basis.

“What if he touches my wings?” Kepliar whispered, turning to Aevala. “Just because he can’t see them doesn’t mean he can’t feel them.” He shivered in the late-autumn wind.

“I’m sure Alleigha will take care of it,” Aevala sighed. She smiled at her friend. “I know you’ll feel better once he’s done.”

Kepliar shuddered as the chastised elf approached holding a much smaller object—only a finger’s length. “My apologies, young master,” Kraffen grumped. “I did not imagine you so frail. I thought I had brought the simple tools…”

Alleigha only glared at the elf as she crossed her arms to monitor the exchange.

Kraffen turned his attentions entirely on Kepliar and frowned. “I will never understand why you young elves have such an aversion to a haircut. It is only a haircut!” he grumped.

“It is very important you don’t move, once I start,” Kraffen instructed with a hard, impatient glint in his cool, grey eyes. “You will not know where my jazeer is, and you could wind up very hurt. Do you understand?”

Kepliar swallowed, certain the elf could see him trembling. He didn’t want to do this! He nodded instead of fleeing and held his head as motionless as he could.

“At least you are more reasonable than most,” Kraffen grumped under his breath as he reached out for the mass of red hair. He grunted and made odd growling noises in the back of his throat as he inspected.

“Uhg…” The elf recoiled in revulsion.

“What?” Alleigha frowned.

“There are insects in the boy’s hair!” he shouted in anger. "I did not agree to this!"

“Be quiet,” Alleigha demanded; her voice as cold as ice. “If you would pay attention to anything at all, you would see they are dead.

“How, in the name of all that is holy, did this happen?” he blurted out his frustration and incredulous surprise.

For his part, Kepliar was having a hard enough time just being touched by the cranky elf. He was in no state to make anything up.

“A bet,” Aevala came to his rescue. “It was my fault.”

Kraffen huffed and shook his head. “Child, for my sake, make no more bets of this nature. My nerves cannot take such.”

“You are such a grump,” Alleigha reprimanded. “Do what I have called you for.”

Kraffen made a dirty face at the ancient she-elf and went to work, detaching the unworkable mess from Kepliar’s scalp.

Every now and then a single hair would pull and a sharp pain would shoot down Kepliar’s back. It took every measure of willpower he had not to duck away or flail out at the offender that frightened him so much. When he closed his eyes, all he could feel or think of was when Grophin would handle his head and hair in such a similar manner.

Though they stung, he forced his eyes to remain open to remind his mind where he really was. He didn’t want to lash out at the elf, or worse, cause the elf to harm him.

He watched as their ferret companions scurried around the stone wall to join them on the small stone patio. Kepliar couldn’t help but grin as their romping distracted him from the elf that still picked away at his hair with the sharp object.

Bandit darted forward and snatched up a smallish fluff of red hair. He turned and waved it in Snitch’s face. She jumped on her mate’s back and nipped at his back knees. Bandit grunted and jumped to force Snitch to slide off his back. Both ferrets started bouncing as if their legs were rubber. Their mouths hung open, and they periodically bumped into each other to be sent rolling away.

“I hope you have a large compensation for this,” Kraffen complained. “You know I detest working with insects and loath being near rodents.”

Alleigha smiled. “But of course, my dear Kraffen,” she oozed. “I have generous compensation. I will refrain for at least a week more from telling your wife what exactly happened to her precious cottage.”

Kraffen turned green in worry and then purple as the blood rushed to his face in either anger or embarrassment; perhaps both.

Aevala grinned. “What happened?”

“You see Kraffen…”

“You swore you would never!” he shouted.

Kepliar couldn’t keep himself from ducking away from the elf this time. Luckily, he was busy pointing the jazeer at Alleigha.

“I promised I would not tell your wife,” she laughed as a taunting gleam danced in her dark eyes. “I see only you, who are well acquainted with the story already, and my students, who could learn much from your misfortunes.”

Kraffen’s shoulders dropped in utter defeat.

“Kraffen and Voinel once had a large, charming home beyond the city,” Alleigha started her tale. “Once, when Voinel was gone to visit family to the east, Kraffen thought it would be fun to try summoning a small demon. After all, what damage could a small demon do—right Kraffen?”

She winked at Kraffen, who only scowled and turned his attentions back to the wild hair.

“Demons, of any size, do not take kindly to being drawn from their realm to ours. They enjoy their own far more, since there exist no pesky little seals or runes of control. Though I am surprised, Kraffen did manage to place some solid wards on the room before he started. It kept the imp there anyway.”

“Did not help my house,” Kraffen grumped as he drew off the last clump of hair from the youth’s head.

“No.” Alleigha leveled stern eyes at the elf. “It did not save your home from your foolishness, but it did save your life as well as the homes—and possibly lives—of hundreds more.”

Kraffen sneered and turned back to clean and stow his tools while Alleigha finished.

“The demon was small, but size does not relate to power. What was his name?” Alleigha asked.

“Wrath-Ain.” Kraffen rubbed his shoulder.

“Ah, yes,” Alleigha spoke as if she’d needed the reminded. “Wrath-Ain blew up Kraffen’s home before Kraffen gathered enough wit to send the demon back.”

“Laugh then,” Kraffen grumped at the snickering duo and the shivering youth. “Kraffen is one big joke… The poor sap blew up his own house. Stupid fool.”

“Oh, do not be like that,” Alleigha soothed. “It is a good lesson for us all.”

He scowled and crossed his arms.

“Seshra has a warm dinner waiting for you,” Alleigha said as she waved him inside. “Your payment will be near the front door. Remember…” Her voice lowered almost to a threatening level. “My charges are my secret. Keep mine well if you desire me to keep yours.”

Kraffen forced a smile. He nodded and snatched up his sack.

“So, how does it feel?” Aevala asked as she circled her friend. His head looked somewhat smaller without the knot of hair tangled down to his shoulders. However, now the short strands stuck out in every direction.

“Like my head’s going to float off,” Kepliar answered as his fingers raked through the small tuffs. He couldn’t ever remember his hair being so short.

“Did you have to find someone so… irritable?” he asked, turning to Alleigha.

She smiled in apology. “It was the best I could do,” she said with a shrug. “I do not have much in the way of blackmail on many other talented hair artists. I could not risk inviting someone whose word I can not trust as well as Karffen’s.”

“Hair artists?” Kepliar and Aevala both chimed.

Alleigha laughed. “Of course. Kraffen is a master, despite his cranky demeanor. You don’t think someone without talent could have saved some much hair, or made it a single length for that matter?”

Aevala grabbed the threshold to stop her forward momentum when she noticed Rain standing in the hallway staring at the wall that was covered with a heavy, red drape. She smiled to herself and made sure that she was noisy as she approached him.

“It’s Aevala, Rain,” she announced herself. “What are you doing?”

His bright smile beamed up at her when he turned his face towards her voice. “Hi, Aevala! It’s been a while since we’ve talked.”

“It has,” she agreed.

“I was just wondering what it is that Alleigha is looking at when she stands here,” he started. “When I ask her, she just laughs and changes the subject. Care to help me out?”

“I’ll try…” She looked up and down the hallway searching for anything that might capture her teacher’s attention. “The carpet is the same that is in most of her other rooms, there are oil lamps hang from the ceiling every couple of feet. The walls are covered with red drapes…”

“Is there anything behind them?” Rain asked, his smile growing larger.

“Let’s see,” Aevala answered as she searched for a break in the heavy cloth. “What do you know,” she laughed. “There’s a portrait back here…”

“Really?” Rain asked as he drew close to Aevala’s side. He groped through the air until his hand fell on her arm and he clamped down.

Aevala smiled and refused to let herself shy from his touch. He was just a blinded child searching for something to anchor himself on. Rain drew closer to her side. “What does it look like?”

“It’s an elf and a boy sitting in the gardens—near the large fountain in the center,” she started. “The boy has dark brown hair and green eyes. He looks about half your age…” She reached out to wrap her arm around his shoulders. “His smile reminds me of yours, Rain. It’s wide and open like a hug.”

“He must have been happy,” the boy remarked.

“Looks like it,” Aevala agreed. “The man is similar… same color hair and eyes.”

“Does it say who it is?”

She stooped to read the plaque beneath the portrait. “It’s titled Hebriel and son, Lehalïe.” Her eyebrow rose at the name. Lehalïe?

“I heard her say once that her father’s name was Lehalïe. You suppose it’s her father?”

“Silly boy,” she laughed, shaking off her own question. “If her father’s name was Lehalïe, who else would it be?”

“I don’t know; a cousin or something… ‘Lehalïe’ isn’t exactly a unique name, you know.”

“Hmm, I suppose not. It’s strange though…” she started, biting the side of her mouth.”

“What?”

“I'm pretty sure that Hebriel is a human name. Do you think that Alleigha has human ancestry?”

“Who knows with her,” Rain laughed. “You’d never guess, but she keeps so many secrets.”

Falling Snow and Faltered Trust

Kepliar peeked around the doorframe into the library. A single candle lamp glowed on a table in the center of the room. Its low wick only allowed the weak flame light just little beyond the table and immediate chairs, but that was enough for Kepliar to navigate by. He sneaked into the dark room and hurried to the far corner where a free-standing bookshelf formed an alcove with the selves that followed the curving wall.

With a tired sigh, the sleepy human collapsed on the soft carpeting. He ran his fingers through the thick piling and closed his eyes. He breathed in the dry smell and tried to force himself to believe he was really there. It shouldn’t have been hard. He’d never had dreams before Aevala told him of his race, so he couldn’t be dreaming.

Some time later, he awoke to a tender voice calling his name. “Kepliar…”

He lifted his head, blinking against the light of the lamp in Alleigha’s hand. “Hmmm?”

The she-elf smile and laughed a little. “Wake up, you silly boy,” she chided in a whisper.

He looked up and pressed himself to a sitting position. “Alleigha?” he questioned as he glanced around with a yawn.

“I thought the room I gave you was small enough,” she sighed. “I guess it wasn’t.”

Kepliar offered a sheepish smile as he rolled his shoulders. His left wing rose of its own accord and stretched with a slight shudder. “Sorry,” he murmured. “It’s nice… Really—I just…”

“It is okay.” Alleigha smiled. “If you are happy here, then I would have you nowhere else. However, that is not why I came to find you.” Alleigha stood up and stepped back a pace to draw aside the great, red drapes.

Kepliar’s mouth dropped as he squinted in study. What was that? He clambered to his feet and approached the icy window.

“Aevala awaits you outside. I would suggest you make sure your wraps are well-secured.”

Kepliar glanced at the she-elf who’d taken him and Aevala in. He couldn’t believe how kind she was. “Is this… snow?”

Alleigha beamed at him. “Indeed, child. Join your friend before she has too many snowballs ready to pelt you with.”

Kepliar waited half-a-heartbeat before shoving away from the window to sprint from the library. Aevala and Alleigha had told him so much about snow, and now he was going to get to really see it!

As he rushed down the hallway he caught her musing murmur. “What joy it is to have children in my home again…”

Kepliar fumbled with the awkward straps of the heavy outer-shirt Alleigha had fashioned for him—a coat she called it. Whatever it was, it wasn’t easy to get on. His wings got in the way, and he found himself turning in circles in a vain attempt to reach the last belt he needed to tie down.

At long last, the coat was secured, even if it was haphazard. He stepped out the door into Alleigha’s great walled-garden and began to wander, awestruck. Every surface was covered with a glittering white so bright and pure that it stung his eyes. His jaw dropped as he gapped at the dark sky above that dropped the tiny flecks of white. The tiny spots of white danced against his face and tickled his ears. His feet made strange half-crunching, half-squeaking noises, and he looked down to find that this white powder remembered where he stepped the same way that soft sand or mud remembered.

Kepliar’s wing flew up to intercept the white object that flew at him. He glanced over the crimson feathers at Aevala, who laughed holding a second glittering ball. “Are you sure you want to throw that, Aeva?” Kepliar asked in a dark, playful tone.

Aevala smiled and tossed the ball into the air to catch it again. “That sounds like a threat, Kep,” she giggle.

Kepliar smiled a little as he turned to face her. “Maybe it was,” he teased. “Are you willing to risk it?”

His answer was a face full of snow. Aevala laughed as she disappeared, deeper into the gardens.

Kepliar shook the frozen water from his hair and wiped it from his face and eyebrows. So she wanted to play…

Aevala peeked around the corner as excitement rushed through her veins. The back of her mind wondered why she’d even thought she stood a chance in the dark. She may as well have blindfolded herself and still expect to hit him again. She smiled as she spied the dark form standing in the walkway.

His wings lifted, and she found herself showered in a great rush of snow.

“Learned that one a few hours ago,” his laughing voice called from the darkness.

She squealed as the snow found every opening in her outerwear and crept in. It took a moment or two before the frozen water obeyed her and flowed around her. She couldn’t do anything about the wind… but at least her night-clothes would stay dry beneath her coat.

Aevala glanced up when the blast stopped. Kepliar wasn’t standing there anymore. She closed her eyes, searching for his energy. He’d crossed the elemental line, and so she’d play along. It took just seconds to find him, but a whole minute to force the elemental spell to cooperate. She couldn’t help but laugh when his yelp of surprise rang through the cold air.

“Not nice!”

Aevala giggled. “You started it!” she shouted back.

Their game peaked when they found themselves staring at the other, both poised to throw a simple snowball. Neither one moved as they appraised each other. Both were soaked through, and Kepliar noticed that Aevala shivered in the cold. Slowly his snowball lowered, and she mirrored his motion.

“I supposed we should go in…” Kepliar suggested. He was sure he’d never seen her lips blue, and his mind said it wasn’t a good color.

“No…” She shook her head. “I’m not ready to go back to it.”

Kepliar tilted his head and sighed. He didn’t quiet understand what she meant, but he could hear a need in her voice. However, he didn’t want her to freeze…

The human closed his eyes and felt the energy flood to his outstretched hand. A bright light exploded on the other side of his eyelids, and he trembled in response of what he knew he held. Kepliar stooped to set the flames on the ground between them. The fire snapped, happy to draw its fuel from the elementalist as it melted the snow around it.

Aevala smiled. “Thank you, Kep,” she murmured as she sat down next to the growing fire. The young healer knew how hard that would have been for him.

Kepliar noticed the tears glinting in her eyes. He smiled a little and sat down as well—farther away.

~۝~

“Where are we going?” Kepliar asked as he followed behind Alleigha and Aevala. A sudden noise made him jerk far to his right only to shake his head in embarrassment. It was merely an elf dropping his wares as a sale table buckled and cracked.

“Ah, child,” she almost sang as her breath rose in a thin column. “It is often the journey, not the destination that is important.”

Kepliar shook his head as Aevala giggled at her enigmatic answer. It seemed Alleigha was fond of keeping teasing secrets.

The trio paced through the snow-covered cobblestone streets without much more conversation. Alleigha had long professed a deep preference for silent travel, and her charges thought enough to let her have it. It was the way they often tread, for the elf took the two out with her on short errands when she deemed the city quiet and their concentration solid enough.

Before long, she drew close to a tall, stone building covered with red carvings of trees, flowers, and beasts of all kinds. The she-elf pressed open the spiked, iron gate as if she had no doubt of her welcome. She breezed to the great wooden door, leaving Aevala and Kepliar hanging back in discomfort. Neither liked the appearance of the building. Even for the light decorations, it looked severe, strange, and frightening. The gate was enough to make them doubt the wisdom of entering without explicit welcome.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Kepliar asked as he leaned close to Aevala’s ear.

“No,” she whispered back as she watched her teacher. She fought the chilling shudder that threatened; it was only Kepliar for pity’s sake!

Alleigha turned back to her charges and waved them forward. “Come, my dears,” she instructed. “You are welcome here as well.”

They glanced at each other and offered a shrug before doing as their teacher requested. When they’d reached Alleigha’s side, the door opened, and the most frightening elf either had ever seen filled the tall doorway. It made Aevala draw back and Kepliar tremble. What was Alleigha doing here?

“Welcome, healer.” His words spoke of welcome, but there was a note in his voice that spoke of a fierce nature that welcomed few. “The master has long expected you.”

“I would be forced to think less of him if he did not,” she laughed as she bowed. When she stood, she motioned to Kepliar and Aevala. “I bring friends. They come under my name and as such will be as I am.”

The man ran stern eyes over the strangers and stood studying their faces. Both squirmed under his constant gaze, but at length he drew back and motioned for them to enter. As Aevala passed, she realized only one other person she’d ever met had called up such discomfort so quick and completely.

“Alleigha…” she murmured.

“Shhh,” the she-elf returned in near-silent tones. “We do not want to be rude to our host. Wait until he bids welcome.”

The three entered a large hall, lit with the dim light from a hundred small candles. Large, red drapes shut out the outside world as well as the light that would have streamed in and illuminated the shining tiles and gilded staircase. On either side of the hall an open stairwell rose to meet in front of a large set of doors.

“You come again,” a booming voice called through the shadows. Whether the owner of the voice was concealed in the darkness below the stairs or the gloom above them could not be determined.

“Aye,” Alleigha answered as a slight smile flashed across her face. If she held any fear, neither of her companions could detect it. “We have business.”

“Indeed.”

That was the only warning given before a dark shadow leapt over the rail guarding the great doors. The figure landed a few meters away from the little group. Before any had time to take a breath, a single bound launched the stranger into Alleigha’s arms. He lifted the she-elf and spun a wide circle in the great open space.

Kepliar shook his head and pulled his arm away from Aevala’s shoulders—he hadn’t even realized he’d grabbed her and darted aside until he relaxed at Alleigha’s laughter. “Sorry,” he murmured, forcing his breathing to slow and the fear to leave his veins.

Aevala shook her head in dismissal, though her dark eyes smoldered with a deep pain. She stared at her teacher in disbelief and question. What was going on?

The pair stopped spinning, and the stranger set Alleigha on her feet again. He was taller than the she-elf and had ebony hair and dark eyes to match. His dark skin reminded them both of the traveling elves they’d lived among.

Kepliar felt his distrust leap to the surface. Did Alleigha mean them harm? Her name didn’t tell him so, but couldn’t she have the power to fool that? Aevala on the other hand, felt there was more to this dark elf than met the eye. She looked at him, and her heart trembled.

Aevala bit her bottom lip as a scarred face from her childhood flashed through her mind.

“Who’ve you brought with you?” His voice was like thunder from the distance—threatening and yet lacking immediate danger: a warning.

Alleigha propped an elbow on the dark man’s shoulder and sighed as she smiled at the human and the mixed-breed. “Non-elves.”