The incredulity in Mercedes’ voice was thick as she looked at Simone, the small shaman elf from the southern plains.

  “How can you know that- that whatever you said- is down there in that valley?” She scoffed. “Is this some sort of trick? A joke?” She shook her head. “A thing I’ve never heard of- that nobody has ever heard of- just happens to be right over there?”

  Simone simply weathered Mercedes’ outburst, without saying anything at all. Instead, she got up, and walked back the direction they came, drawing the knife she kept at the small of her back.

  “Where are you going?” Mercedes asked, but got up and followed after the smaller elf. “Besides, everyone knows it was the Goddess that created all things in this world, not- what you described. I have a hard time believing anything you’re saying. Rather, aren’t you in league with whatever’s out there? It’s obvious that you know entirely too much about what’s going on- and you haven’t told me a thing!”

  She watched as Simone selected a sapling, and began hacking away at the base of it with her long knife.

  Despite being made as a weapon and not as a utility blade, the knife cut deeply into the sapling, and with a few brutal strikes, the small sapling toppled over with a rush of wind rustling through its thin branches and leaves.

  Mercedes drew her sword, unsure whether or not she needed to use it against the brown-skinned elf. Simone glanced at her, but went to work on the sapling she’d felled, stripping the tree of limbs with a few adroit swings of her knife.

  “I expect nothing of you, human.” Simone finally volunteered, spitting out the word like an epithet. “But I saw into your mind, the same as you saw into mine. You have some strange notion of what is and isn’t known, considering that it hasn’t been that long since you learned that bears and wolves exist.” She sheathed the wicked knife at her belt and drew the shorter, more utilitarian work knife she’d used for years. Using the point of the knife, she ran it down the length of the sapling, then peeled away the bark, exposing the wood underneath.

  “I am not a human!” Mercedes rebutted hotly. “I am a High Elf!”

  Simone rolled her eyes. “You’re tall like a human. Presumptuous like a human. You speak the human tongue.” She snapped. “What else am I to think, but that you’re some different variety of human that I haven’t seen before?” She demanded.

  “If you truly saw into my mind, then you know what I say is true- that I am a High Elf, someone that is in charge of teaching and guiding the humans.” Mercedes rebutted.

  Simone set down her knife, and twisted her body towards Mercedes.

  “No elf,” She replied acidly, “would ever think to raise a blade against another, unless they were twisted and deranged by the Outside.” She shot back. “Teach? Guide? I look into your eyes and I see memories of learning how to hurt, how to maim, how to kill.”

  Mercedes stiffened at that for a moment, but what Simone said was essentially true: She was a soldier. Only the elven Church was allowed to have a standing army. The humans got around the proscriptions all the time, the Royal Guard was just such an exception.

  Simone picked her knife back up, and continued peeling the bark away from the sapling, as if Mercedes wasn’t standing there with her sword drawn.

  In truth, Simone was terrified and intensely wary of Mercedes. The smaller elf was tense, ready to dodge out of the way of the woman’s sword should the blonde-haired elf strike. She kept her hands moving to hide the tremble in them even as she worried that she might slip and accidentally cut herself.

  The sight of the suspicious ‘tree’ in an unlikely place where no other plants grew, the brilliant red of its leaves, and the sudden overwhelming realization at how alone and vulnerable she was completely stripped away her defenses.

  At first, at the start of her journey, there was an easy and comfortable faith that the spirits- that Vitalen- would protect her as she went in search of the disastrous Pearl of N’Granek. Things might happen, but ultimately it was the spirit’s job to uphold the bargain- to protect the People against the Outside.

  But the spirits didn’t protect against illness or injury, or death from predators. While a Protean was a vile, abominable thing, it was still a fundamental part of the world, there was no guarantee Vitalen would protect her against its ravenous appetite. Indeed, when the protean had attacked the People in the past, the spirits hadn’t protected them beyond the warnings. There was also the nature of the Pearl itself- Simone had been warned about ‘wishes’, and how the Pearl granted them at a terrible cost.

  Also, Vitalen hasn’t shown itself even once since Mercedes had joined her.

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  Mercedes sheathed her sword, and she carefully lowered herself to sit on the forest floor like Simone.

  “I’ll teach you about my history.” Mercedes began, but then hesitated. Did she really need Simone’s help? The answer was immediately obvious, so obvious it didn’t need to be asked. She did. She took a breath, and began.

  “Where I’m from, there is only- there was only one elf tribe, one People. The High Elves. We were once like you, nomads. But we learned to domesticate the animals we needed, to plant and grow the crops we ate. We didn’t need to wander. We grew strong, built cities. Worshipped the Goddess. Studied the mysteries of magic, and the world around us. But after a thousand years, we discovered we weren’t alone. There were humans.”

  She paused in her reflections. “There were so many of them.” She paused again. “At first, we thought to subjugate the humans. They were weak...” She trailed off for a moment, and then smiled. “And, compared to us, they were quite stupid. They were like-” She paused again, and idly wished for some water to drink. “They lived in caves and hunted and gathered. They wore animal furs to keep themselves warm.” She paused again. “But for every elf, there were at least five hundred humans. It became very evident to us that we were hopelessly outnumbered. We were also given a directive from the Goddess- to watch over and teach the humans.”

  She paused again. “So we taught them. They outnumber us, still. Humans are short-sighted, however. They will take things from each other- not just to claim it as theirs, but exist in the satisfaction that they have it, and not the person they took it from. They like to make war on each other. Tribe against tribe, clan against clan, city against city, nation against nation.”

  She sighed. “We outlawed war, and named ourselves adjudicators over disputes. After all, they are still young- younger than the elves. They need guidance.” She rolled her eyes. “But still, we are required to intervene in human fights. That means we need to be ready for such things. That’s why I am a soldier, Simone. Not because I want to kill, but because I want to prevent the humans from killing each other. The Goddess dislikes needless killing too, I’m sure.”

  “You never mentioned the spirits.” Simone offered.

  Mercedes shook her head. “If there are spirits, they never revealed themselves to us.” She replied.

  “And the Great Terror?” Simone asked. “What did your ‘Goddess’ do then?” Sione asked.

  Mercedes gave her a baffled look. “I don’t know of what you mean.”

  Simone rolled her eyes, then set aside the sapling, and reached towards her pack. The smaller elf rummaged around until she came up with a very tiny leather packet, which she set aside.

  She got up and set up an impromptu camp, starting a campfire and setting a pan of water on to boil. After the water heated, she brewed tea for the two of them, adding in a small pinch of whatever was in the leather packet.

  “Drink.” Simone urged. “Drink, and then it will be my time to talk.” She stated.

  Mercedes eyed the murky liquid. “Is this poison?” She asked, catching a whiff of the drink, which was redolent with the scent of herbs.

  “I carry a lot of herbs with me, some for food, some for medicine, and, used incorrectly, they could kill, but I would not do such a thing intentionally.” She smiled a little. “Besides, I will be drinking, too.”

  Mercedes eyed Simone suspiciously, but downed her half of the drink.

  Simone took the pan from the paladin, and downed her own portion, then pulled out her spirit stick and twirled it in her hands.

  A strange numb lassitude seemed to fill Mercedes’ body, and it was difficult to concentrate. She focused on the whirling stick that Simone spun in her hands.

  Simone began chanting in a language that Mercedes couldn’t understand, but that wasn’t important. She was focused on the stick, and how it spun, moving in Simone’s nimble hands.

  As the stick twirled, beads clicking, on the leather thong, it suddenly became evident to Mercedes that the smaller elf’s chanting somehow meshed with the rhythm of the stick, twirling this way, then back, that way, then back.

  Simone flung the stick into the air, and Mercedes’ gaze rose to follow its flight into the night sky.

  Night? Night? Wasn’t it daytime? Just past noontime?

  The stars wheeled overhead, and suddenly, Mercedes discovered herself in a vast plain of waist-high grasses.

  She glanced up at the sky, confused, just as the sun went out.

  A great searing ball of flame thundered overhead deafeningly, a cacophony of sound that threatened to shatter Mercedes’ eardrums.

  Even as the meteor roared overhead towards its eventual impact in the unexplored polar regions, Mercedes could hear Simone’s chanting. More, she could hear Simone’s narration of the Great Terror. How the elves- the People of the Plains begged the spirits for salvation. How the Forest Elves, the People of the Forest withdrew into their secret places in the verdant woods.

  The passage of the fireball was loud, the impact, as far away as it was, was even more devastating.

  “Your Goddess never revealed Herself to us. We know of She who birthed the world, but it has always been the Spirits who have been our allies, our protectors, our guides.” Simone’s voice chased Mercedes as she wandered a blasted hellscape. What was once verdant grasslands was now ash-choked wastes.

  She watched a bedraggled elven family, thin to the point of emaciation, digging at the ground and scooping up handfuls of muddy water from what had once been a beautiful spring of fresh water.

  Suddenly, Mercedes could see the spirits. Wraithlike, ephemeral, ethereal. They drifted in the air, walked on the land, swam in the water.

  Mercedes reached out her hand to the starving family, her heart going out to them, and a spirit in the shape of a dragonfly perched on her hand.

  What do you wish for, Mercedes? It asked in a voice that was so familiar to her.

  Mercedes' eyes snapped open.