Ancient Watchtowers Ch.02

The little fox shape was really a protective ruse of her nature but at times of growth, she could have trouble maintaining it so her form and size could shift unexpectedly.

The small fox became a larger small fox girl who was still clawing at the air to get to Naïsa.

"Please tell me your names," Naïsa grinned, "or I fear that I will be lost in watching something rare in this world."

They stood in the sunshine for a while, just a group of women talking about anything. Naïsa saw into them in her way, though she said nothing of it. She was happy to meet them, just as she'd said.

She didn't say anything about it, but she grew a little curious about what had brought them together, and she did her best not to stare at them all, especially Loriel, for it had been a long time since she'd seen any others of the woodland race. And Loriel to her eyes, was the most lovely elf that she was sure she'd ever seen.

Loriel didn't fare as well as the archer. She saw someone like her and yet not and any way that she thought of it, she was a little astounded in her private thoughts to have noticed the attraction between them and she wondered how much of it was out of their meeting as what they were.

Naïsa held out her hands toward Bolga and the huldra saw her good intentions right away and passed her vixen over to grin in surprise at how Chicha liked to be held by Naïsa, who whispered things into her little ear which caused her to chitter happily and try to burrow further into Naïsa's arms.

"She is quick to like you," Bolga said with a little laugh, "I think it is her way to let her charms do the work for her."

Naïsa laughed at that and nodded, "What do you think that she is doing to me? I am helpless before her!"

She stopped then, staring at the furry little bundle there in her arms, "She - she has no human blood!"

She handed Chicha back, though the little fox didn't want that. "You wish to raise her better," Naïsa said, showing a little surprise, "You wish more for her than what you knew - and you wish - "

Bolga nodded, "I wish to remain what I am in name only.

Wise you are indeed. Chicha's father was as Loriel, an elf sent by his master out into the forest to cut wood.

Perhaps it shows what they had lost, for an elf to cut trees for pay, I cannot say. I know only that he regretted it, thinking it wrong somehow. That was what he told me of it, anyway."

"You killed an elf?" Loriel asked with a gasp, but Bolga was already shaking her head.

"I thought to, yes," she nodded, "but I learned that the ways of my kind do not work on elves. He knew what I was from his first sight of me.

And yet he liked me still," she smiled as she remembered it. "Fair he was and strong, and as we talked, I think that we both fell somehow. He had to cut wood, he said, else he would be beaten, for his master had many strong men for that.

Every day, he would begin his work after I fed him. Then I would help him with his task for I am strong when I have need to be.

Every night, he loved me and I loved him. Love is something which has only happened twice to me, once with each kind; a human woman and an Elven man."

She smiled sadly, though she was looking downward then, "I learned from the first one, but too late. So when it came time, I gave my all to the one who loved me, not caring a whit what I was.

But one day, his master came with others and wanted Thelas whipped for not cutting more. There were wide spaces with no trees by then. Thelas had taken the very best of the wood for the man, but that greedy boar wanted only more.

I must have made it worse for my man then," she sighed, "for I killed all of them, being especially cruel to the master in my wrath.

Thelas tried to stop me, but I was beyond listening and my blood was up."

Bloga looked up with tears in her eyes, "He told me that we had to leave - leave everything, the forest, all of it, to go far away, and he would do anything to give me a life with him.

I refused out of fear. I could have killed even more men - yet leaving the forest was something that I could not do. If Thelas' life was in danger, I thought to give him the best chance and I went with him to the edge of the forest miles away, and he begged me to come ..."

She was crying then and looked at the others with tears running freely down her cheeks, "But I could not go when I should have!"

She'd almost howled the words as her grief took her fully once again and could not speak for a few minutes.

"And so," she sniffled finally, "I lost my happiness yet again. I lived from the bodies of the ones that I'd killed and I was fat when I crawled to my hole that winter. I birthed Chicha in that dirt hole and I promised her as she slept at my breast that I would find us a better way."

She wiped her face with her palms and left streaked smudges behind, "And so I left in the spring, as soon as the rains were over."

She began to weep again softly, and to her slight surprise, the elves hugged her and tried to comfort her. Even Nila stood with her arm around Bolga.

"Your bow is like nothing that I've seen before," Nila said a little later to change the subject.

Naïsa nodded, "It is the bow of my long-faded order and belonged to my teacher. I have never found another like it. It will come to my hand if I call in a certain way and if I wish it, the arrows gain in speed for very long shots. It will not allow another to draw it even if I hand it over."

"It's very thick," Nila remarked, "I've wanted to build a bow, not just make one, for a long time. I'm very strong, but I can't find a way to make it thick enough for me without losing all of the flexibility to make it work."

"These ones," Naïsa said, "were crafted from the wood of only one living tree - all of them I was told, and it is not only the wood. In that place where the tree once stood, many of the old empire's finest archers were born. The ground was magic and more than what is usual for an old Elven place.

The tree is gone now, as is the Empire, and perhaps even all of the other bows made from that tree."

"The arrows," Nila began.

"The same wood," Naïsa answered, "I have some made for different uses, but most are tipped with mithril."

She held one up, noticing that Nila took a small half-step backwards. "Mithril is a very rare, exceedingly pure and very hard silver. It is not like most forms, since it can take and hold an edge. Also, it can receive and hold magical thoughts."

The discussion ended as their attention was drawn by a gull who screamed and flapped, trying to drive a predator from her nest.

Chicha did nothing to lessen the gull's upset. She sat busily lapping the fluids from one egg after another.

---------------

They sat before the fire inside the cave, each of them telling of themselves. The others knew what each one thought was all that there was to know about each other, but Naïsa had a way of asking her questions of them, drawing them out a little at a time and so each one learned far more that night of the ones she lived with than they'd known before.

"I want to ask some more things about you, Naïsa," Nila said. as she stirred the coals of the fire with a stick to get a bit more heat up so that she could have another bowl of the stew they'd made together. The archer was a welcome guest only for that, because her pack held an actual pot - something the others would have killed to own, as well as the bowls.

"Ask them then," the strange elf smiled, "I shall tell of what I know, for I have spent my time walking and in ways which sometimes let me skip along the river of time. It was a gift which I learned from my teacher - something given to me to use when I had need of it. I do not wish to use it much anymore, for I find myself farther and farther away from what I was, what my kind was and what I think that we should have been - all of us."

"What do you mean?" Nila asked.

"Well," Naïsa said as she poured herself a little more stew after Nila, "You, for one. I see one who knows ways to live as humans lived far closer to their beginning, yet you do it well and with much grace. All of us here," she said, indicating them with a wave of her hand, "We all are among the last of our kinds."

She pointed to the cat, who now played with Chicha sleepily and was oblivious to them, "His kind was gone from most places before even the elves came to be. I know not why he is still here at all, though I come to think that this is a place that he wandered into for it is a strange one.

My sister elf and I are ones whose kinds have diminished and gone away. I have not seen another of us in a time, but for one place where I was. You yourself from what I have learned of you are of a people who were diminished in the face of something newer.

Ever it happens, no matter the kind - something always comes to push each type off and they fade then in some time.

Though," she smiled, "I see something in you which makes me even gladder to see. You are something else which is rare today. Once long ago - before my time, mind - there were many werebeasts.

Now? Almost all of them gone - excepting the few who live yet, and I have learned one thing about this kind of yours, Nila.

The ones who survive and still go on, those ones which I have come to know a little, all of them had magical ability before they changed for the first time. To have this thing on you, be it a gift or a curse in your eyes, to gain it with no wisdom and power to begin with leads only to madness and death. But that will not be your doom, I think, for I feel your power, my friend, and I know that it keeps you safe."

What year is it now?" Nila asked, "There is a place in these caves where there is a kind of gate in a way. To step through it and back moves you in time somehow. I've been here for less than two years, but I'm sure that time has gone by me while I was here and I fear that gate now."

"What is the year by your reckoning?" Naïsa asked and Nila said, "It was 1870 when I came, but I have a strong feeling that a lot of time has gone by."

Loriel looked over, "1870? When I walked in here to look for a place to live, it was 1186 the way that the humans count the years. So when I walked through that hole ..."

Nila held up two fingers, "You went through it twice, Loriel."

"Yes but -"

Naïsa held up her hand, "I came seeking this gate. They happen in places in this world and they are rare. I know of only two others, though I have not been to either one in an age.

From what I know, and if the way of counting remains unchanged, it is 1993 now."

She looked around at all of the open mouths that she saw.

"From what you say, there is such a gate here, so I was right. I walked in this morning, but I stopped when I saw your large friend sleeping and I went back out and walked on the top of the rock for a time."

She looked around, "I did not walk in this way here. There are many ways into this place, "she smiled as she pointed to the other openings.

"The one which I came through lies over there and to go through it does not change time, but it does change something else. From what I know of this place - this is a part of the world known long ago as the New World. I came from the Old World this very morning and I did not walk far to do it."

She looked at Bolga, "You did the same thing by your tale, friend. You only used a different way in."

Bolga nodded, "It sounds right, what you say. The ground here is different from where we began our journey, my Chicha and me.

But it is the same with us - this thing about time. It must be."

Loriel and Nila looked over sharply and Bolga sighed.

"That first night, before we came to you, I had to leap after Chicha as she went into that dark place. We came back and then we saw you. I do not know what year it was when we left. I do not mark the time. I only mark the coming of winter."

"Where will you go now?" Loriel asked after a time, "We've just met you and I don't think that you want to stay long. I can feel that in you."

She looked at Nila, "I don't want to lose her, not yet. If she means to go, I think we should go with her. We don't really belong in a place where time passes and we don't know what's going on. I'm - I'm eight hundred and twenty-three years ... eight hundred and forty-four was years old!"

"Calm down," Nila said, "You're not going to go just yet, are you, Naïsa? Loriel is going to pee where she sits if you do. Can you stay?"

"For a time," Naïsa smiled, "but I wish to go to a place where there is another gate, though not for that. I have seen a little of the way that life is lived there and I think that it is where I wish to be now - to stay there, if I can."

She looked at Loriel, "And sister, I have seen elves there of a kind, though very few. Others there are as well, so I do not know if you would want to be there at all, for they live together or near to it, all of them."

"What do you mean?" Loriel asked, "What kinds?"

Naïsa tried to think of a soft way to say it, but gave it up and decided to say the truth of it.

"Some goblins there are there, though not many more than maybe a dozen and not more than two dozen. That kind fare the same as we do and are diminished.

Of the elves, the few I have seen number not less than three and no more than six - and sister, they are Wild Elves, all of them."

Loriel looked shocked and made a bit of a face at that. "That kind, I only know of from reading. I haven't met any," she said, "All that I've heard is that they can be ... hard to get along with, if they're truly Wild Elves."

"They are," Naïsa shrugged, "for certain. Though it can be said that they know of their peril and live accordingly, but they are not the ... I wish to say the worst, but it would be a falsehood to say it like that.

They live with another kind who number up to perhaps fifty or sixty, all in one place, the most of them and all near a human settlement. The humans know nothing of them all."

"What are the others?" Loriel asked, "I want to know now."

Naïsa smiled a little weakly, "Think, elf-sister.

If they live with another sort, which sort might that be?

The Wild Ones can only tolerate - and be tolerated by one other type, for no other of our kinds will abide them. Think of the one sort which they are alike to in their temperament, if not their appearance."

Bolga gasped and reached for her baby, as if the mere mention of that kind would bring a horde of them out of the other cave openings.

"Ilythiirin!" she whispered almost silently, fearful that she might be calling to them to only say it.

"What?" Nila asked.

Bolga leaned lower to hold Chicha protectively and the little fox then felt a little threatened and worried over the body language, as though there was some threat to her here which she hadn't seen yet.

"Drow!" Bolga hissed fearfully, as though saying it caused her pain.

Naïsa peered at the huldra a little curiously. She could certainly understand a little thrill of cautionary fear in someone who might have a reason for it. But this almost abject terror that she was in was a little out of place to her mind.

"No!" Loriel gasped, "They - they live still?"

"As do we," Naïsa shrugged, "I have met them, and they seem to have lessened in their ways, if it can be said, while not abandoning them completely, of course."

"Oh, of course," Loriel said a little sarcastically, "What's to be afraid of, then?"

She shook her head, as though the newcomer saw moving there as a happy alternative - to slitting one's own throat. Why not go to where the Drow are and let them do it for you?

Nila didn't get it, "What the hell is a -"

"Shh!" Bolga hissed, jumping right over the fire to where Nila sat in shock to see it.

She held Nila tightly, almost frightening Chicha there on her arm and she kissed Nila's cheek, begging in her hissed whispers that Nila not say another word on the subject.

Loriel shrugged in a way that showed that she might have feelings on the subject also, but was not worried excessively over the mere mention of those ones, "They're a race of elves who turned away from the sunlight ages ago. They live underground and seldom if ever come up.

But if they do ..." she said quietly and she preferred to just leave the thought hanging.

"Then what?" Nila asked.

Loriel shrugged, "They usually have a reason to want that, and with that driving them, a raid into a human place turns into the worst sort of near-silent slaughter. They remain hidden until the moment when they strike and then they vanish again even more quickly. But what they leave behind ..."

"They are proud," Naïsa said, "as most of the Elven folk are or can be. They have some abilities which the rest of us do not have, and they shun the sunlight because it makes them ill, not being used to it anymore.

But under everything; my words and those of Loriel there, they are a race of elves. Most of the other races want to forget that fact and to even mention it to most Drow can easily cause them to attack the speaker.

They wish it were not the truth just as much.

Other than the Wild Ones, the rest of us - the Darthiir, as they name us all - and the Drow have ever been the most implacable enemies, though that has changed. I have met them and yet I still live, do I not?

Wild Elves are the only sort that they will naturally associate with and any meeting between the Drow and other kinds of us has long meant only a very quick and hateful fight. They are no longer quite as hostile."

"What sort of ... abilities?" Nila asked.

"They can disappear into the very air!" Bolga hissed worriedly, "They can see well on the blackest night!"

But Naïsa only shook her head, "They have grown accustomed to living in darkness, so they can see well in it. Some can fade from sight - but not most. Just as a very few can change their appearance. But most cannot do either."

"They can FLY!" Bolga hissed argumentatively, "I have seen this with my own eyes, so do not try to make it into nothing."

Naïsa laid her hand on Bolga's shoulder, "Calm yourself, pretty one. They cannot fly - but they can float. If you have seen one of them running and seem to fly off, it is only the one you saw jumping a little to glide for a distance. But if they do not choose to come down, then they stop after a time and only hang in the air - if it suits them to do it."

Bolga nodded, but she still looked unconvinced.

"I tell you that they know their peril as much as we do. I have met and spoken to many. They seek only to live undisturbed, that is all."

"Why do you want to go there?" Loriel asked.

Naïsa smiled, "Because that is what I wish for as well. They have offered me a place among them, just as they would you.

The line between us is not so clear as it once was. To them - the goblins, Wild Elves and the Drow, they see the need to draw together peacefully. It is strained sometimes, but there are no fights or wars between them all.

They fear the humans more than anything."

"Why?" Nila asked.

Naïsa shrugged, "Because there are many, many more humans than all of us. They even try to fit, in a way. They have lived among the humans for a goodly time now and are still unnoticed by them. They even earn gold secretly from them now and then.

They live in an old human fortress unnoticed, and some now want to go to another one - even older - but with no humans anywhere near.

"I want neither," she smiled, "It is my hope to live in one of the abandoned human outposts which has outlived it's purpose and yet still stands. Humans are there in the summer months, but only a few who seem to guide others around. Those ones do not stay long and I do not know the reason for it. Why come at all if you will not stay?

Late in the spring, some few come to look after things, and also the same few come in the autumn to set things in place for the winter. They also leave as the day wanes and the dusk comes on."