《The Half-Lives of Elves》


 A direct question 1.1

    It began with fire, and it would end with fire.


    But for the time being, the woman was still alone inside the meditation chamber, murmuring prayers over the soft shifting of the white sands that poured from the ceiling in a dry waterfall. The sands collected around her sitting, robed figure, only to fall towards the centre of the room, where a round drain hole greedily drank it, making the silt disappear into the hidden blackness.


    The woman sat on the edge of the hole, and if the sands shifted just a few inches forward, she would also fall into the darkness. She held her arms up, palms open wide as if to receive an offer, the rays of sunlight that came from above played with her golden hair and sable skin as they both ran down her grey robes and disappeared into the hole.


    Then, a change.


    The black marble walls opened, the heavy masonry blocks shifting to reveal an entrance and a tall bald man. He wore similar robes but his were a pure white, lined black and gold. He confidently strode forward, even if the gauzes covering the empty orbs where his eyes used to be betrayed that he was either used to the room, or he had other ways to see.


    He walked on naked feet across the room, leaving no footprints on the soft white sand. When he reached the woman he stood opposite her on the other side of the shifting hole.


    ¡°It is almost time,¡± he addressed her in a gravel voce.


    She muttered the last few lines of prayer and gently opened her silvery eyes, fixating the newcomer with a smile.


    ¡°I am ready,¡± she said in a smooth voice.


    ¡°Perhaps a tad too ready,¡± he replied, shaking his head. He sat in front of her, letting echoes of the silt patch over the silence between the two. ¡°I still do not understand you,¡± he said at the end.


    ¡°With all due respect,¡± the woman said holding up one hand, ¡°I did not come here to look for your understanding.¡±


    ¡°I know¡ª¡± he cut her short. ¡°Still, please¡­ think about it. There is no much time left. As a Sunseeker, it is in my power to call all this a misunderstanding. You have no need to pass through the Trial of Gold, Kishirra. We may as well just ask you to pass through the Trial of Fire, and we would be content. Nobody asks for that type of challenge when ordaining a new Knight, even one such as your¡­ kind.¡± He gestured towards her ears, peeking through her gilded mane. They were slightly longer than a human woman¡¯s and pointed like arrowheads.


    In fact, Kishirra might have passed as a normal woman only for a very brief time. There was something about her, past the shape of her ears, which betrayed her true origin. She was taller, taller than the Sunseeker himself, even if sitting like that their faces were almost level. Her strong shoulders spoke of a hidden martial might, and yet the grace with which she sat almost perfectly still could have made her pass for some mad sculptor¡¯s final masterpiece, with her round silvery eyes and the full curve of her lips. Even dressed in those featureless grey robes like a common attendant, she was so effortlessly gorgeous that she would have attracted every gaze even in a ballroom.


    Kishirra¡¯s sable hands reached for her hair and shifted her locks so that the tips of her ears peeked out a little more from her mane.


    ¡°Nobody asked but me, if I recall correctly,¡± she gently reminded her superior.


    The Sunseeker sighed.


    ¡°The whole Council respects your decision. And there are those who rejoiced, no doubt.¡±


    ¡°No doubt,¡± she agreed with a thin smile. Those who would be delighted to see one of her kind destroyed by the Trial, her lack of faith exposed, the mistake she represented erased from the world.


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    ¡°But I am not one of those. I applauded your decision, Kishirra. You are the first of your kind to embrace the Faith, and yet¡ª¡±


    The smile on Kishirra¡¯s face turned a little kinder as the Sunseeker searched for the right words. It was absurd for someone like her, not even properly Ordained, to be considered a peer to the Sunseeker, someone who could stand in the presence of Ans¨¤rra herself ¡ª and not burn to cinders.


    ¡°I do not understand. Not yet. I want to,¡± he said at last, picking up a handful of sand and letting it sift through his fingers. ¡°And if at all possible change your mind about the Trial. I can make an exception. The Council will be receptive to my decision, we can still make you just pass through the Trial of Fire, like any other Knight.¡±


    Kishirra nodded gently, her golden locks shifting on her shoulders.


    ¡°I can help with at least part of that task. But I am firm in my decision to go through the Trial of Gold.¡±


    ¡°Kishirra, it¡¯s something¡ª¡± the Sunseeker¡¯s lips curled into a frown. ¡°It is something we hold against the traitors of the Faith. Even if you were to pass through it, it is going to be¡ª¡± he held his breath, his fingertips trembling as he pictured what the Trial entailed. ¡°Excruciating.¡±


    ¡°A Knight¡¯s due is to hold pain in contempt,¡± Kishirra retorted. ¡°My Faith would not be worth a ray of sunlight if I were to fold over something as trivial.¡±


    ¡°It is not any trivial pain, Kishirra.¡±


    ¡°With all due respect, master,¡± she repeated, and this time her tone was a little less smooth, ¡°I am not trying to justify my faith before mortal men.¡±


    ¡°Of course you are not,¡± the Sunseeker conceded with a grumble. ¡°Very well. But I still want to understand. I have asked about you, Kishirra, but I certainly do not understand the whole story. And it puzzles me.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°We are born of the dark, and into the dark we go. Dust upon dust calls, and only echoes remain,¡± he whispered picking up another handful of sand, throwing it into the sifting whirlpool. ¡°And if we earn our keep, we can hope for the light of Ans¨¤rra to shine after our death, we can hope to sit at the bottom of her Her throne when the curtain closes. That is for us who are mortal.¡± He paused, regarding the Elf. ¡°But for your kind it is different, is it not? I have met some of your race during my travels.¡±


    Kishirra¡¯s grin turned a bit sheepish.


    ¡°I gather it must not have been a pleasant encounter.¡±


    ¡°Nay, it was not!¡± The Sunseeker agreed with a dark chuckle. ¡°Hence, when I heard that an Elf, an immortal, ever-enduring Elf had embraced Faith I believed it was nothing more than a rumour. And then¡­ here you are, years after I first heard those whispers, about to earn your place as a Knight of Ans¨¤rra.¡± He shook his head. ¡°It baffles me.¡±


    For the first time since he had entered, rather, for the first time since he had known her, a deep shadow fell on Kishirra¡¯s face. She embraced herself, leaning forward as if to shield herself from a sudden gale of freezing wind.


    ¡°Why are you here, Kishirra? Why does an immortal Elf seek the embrace of Ans¨¤rra? So much so you ask to prove your faith with the toughest Trial we possess.¡±


    Kishirra muttered something, so faint her words disappeared down the sandy drain.


    ¡°Can you say that again?¡± The Sunseeker asked.


    ¡°¡ª it is a lie,¡± Kishirra whispered through gritted teeth. Her silvery eyes moved downwards, towards the darkness that gaped at the bottom of the hole. As effortlessly beautiful as she was, she seemed to darken and diminish, like the lowest of aspirants caught skipping her sunrise prayer. Kishirra wrung her dark hands together. ¡°It always was.¡±


    ¡°A lie.¡± The Sunseeker stood up, hesitating. For a moment it looked like he wanted to walk around the hole, sit next to the Elf and hold her, but he decided against it and sat down once again. ¡°Your immortality is a lie? So do you Elves actually die in the end?¡±


    Kishirra shook her head, her voice now raspy.


    ¡°¡ªno. Ha¡­ if only. It is not¡ª it is far from¡­ it is much worse.¡± She raised her eyes to meet the empty sockets of the Sunseeker. ¡°Master. I am confident Ans¨¤rra already knows the truth. If I were to share it with you, may I ask you for¡ª¡±


    ¡°Discretion,¡± he nodded. ¡°It is the price for sharing secrets. You have my word.¡± He held up his right hand and the middle three fingers, in the sign of their shared Faith.


    ¡°Yes. I understand. I am thankful, master¡ª¡± Kishirra sighed, trying to collect herself. She ran her hands down her robe, straightening the simple grey fabric, and then she took a long breath, getting ready to talk. ¡°It is a long story. And a longer confession, so I will have to cut short some of the details. If that is fine with you.¡±


    The Sunseeker waited a few more moments, allowing Kishirra to regain her composure.


    He nodded at last.


    ¡°It is. Now¡­ you said that your immortality is worse than a lie.¡± He leaned back and set his hands in his lap, ready to listen. ¡°Can we begin by knowing who told you that lie?¡±

 Before the fall 1.1

    ¡°I want that one.¡±


    Even after all those centuries, Mistress¡¯ voice sounded as clear and as commanding to Kishirra¡¯s ears as the first time she had listened to it.


    Back then, she had belonged to a fresh batch. Straight out of the Hearthwomb and ready for purchase, Kishirra has nevertheless been given a bit of a makeover, with a thin layer of foundation that highlighted her sable complexion. They had styled her long blonde hair into a straight tail reaching the small of her back. The officiants had covered her body in a thin grey dress that drew out her silvery eyes, and little else.


    Judging from the others in the same batch as her, standing next to her in a row, the dress-up was standard, but her coloration was not.


    She knew that her name was Kishirra ¡ª it had been given to her by the machine of obsidian and star-heat that was the Hearthwomb, and it meant bright horizon ¡ª just like she knew how to count, how to use words and how to properly show her respect and admiration for her creators, the exalted people that had built the Hearthwomb and countless other marvels.


    And one of them was standing straight in front of her, pointing her dainty finger at her, demanding Kishirra to be made hers.


    Of course, Kishirra herself could do nothing to change or influence that decision.


    She was an Elf ¡ª the Hearthwomb had made sure this concept was engrained into her brain ¡ª and Mistress, as well as the rest of her people, was a far removed from her as the Sun was from a worm in the mud.


    Another of the exalted people, a Kiengiri male dressed in a sky-blue gown that reached his sandalled feet, grinned at the woman¡¯s interest.


    The other Elves around her regarded the scene with apparent calm and disinterest, but Kishirra felt a ripple of hostility reach her from their hardened gazes. She had been chosen, and they had been not.


    What was even worse, she realised between their reactions and the dutiful instincts provided by the Hearthwomb, it was the different hue of her eyes and hair that made her stand out.


    All the Elves of the batch showed the usual traits of the Kiengiri people: long, narrow noses and thin lips, deep blue eyes, and hair so black and straight that they looked like plunging waterfalls of ink flowing behind their backs.


    Kishirra was so much different.


    ¡°Your keen eye has blessed you! For you are looking at something exceptionally rare,¡± her seller pushed her forward. He was Kiengiri, so Kishirra obeyed without a hitch, her long legs moving her to the edge of the marble platform. ¡°She is of a rare breed, an incredible mixture of the highest-rated¡ª¡±


    The Kiengiri woman who had decided to purchase her snapped her fingers and the vendor¡¯s mouth shut like a blinder.


    ¡°Do not tire my ears,¡± she demanded, with that clear voice. She stepped forward and picked up a strand of Kishirra¡¯s hair, coiling them around her jewelled fingers. ¡°I know how it is. Sometimes the Heartwombs make mistakes. It has coloured her hair the shade of sunrise and her eyes¡­ oh, her eyes are gorgeous.¡±


    The vendor bowed his head.


    ¡°It is a privilege of the initiated to find pearls where most see baubles.¡±


    ¡°If you keep yapping your mouth I will demand an even better discount ¡ª higher than the one I expect for faulty merchandise, mind you.¡±


    The vendor¡¯s eye twitched, but he did not chance a reply this time.


    The woman¡¯s hands found her own ¡ª something rose inside Kishirra¡¯s heart, a wave of emotions that made her feel like she was coming home, even for one such as hers who had known no home, ever, save for the timeless dark of the Hearthwomb.


    Could your home be a person? She was not sure ¡ª everything was all so new.


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    ¡°Look at what they did with your skin, it¡¯s so smooth!¡± The Kiengiri woman praised her. ¡°But you have the potential to develop some serious muscle here. A combat model perhaps? How exciting! Yes, I will bring you home with me. What is your name?¡±


    ¡°Kishirra,¡± she replied, as obedient as the grass bowing under the gale.


    ¡°That is a beautiful one. I will let you keep it.¡± The woman¡¯s palm then touched her sternum ¡ª a bolt of overwriting light passed between their skin and Kishirra jolted as the light engraved new information into her pliable brain.


    Ereshkigalla ¡ª Mistress¡¯ name.


    She was of course to never call her by her name, unless she was told to.


    Ownership ¡ª she now belonged to Mistress Ereshkigalla.


    Those two concepts settled inside her brain as Mistress made a circle of solid light with her other hand, which floated to the vendor¡¯s open palm. He accepted it with a deep bow.


    ¡°Your generosity blinds me. Would you like to receive this one¡¯s recommended choices of attire? Perhaps the handbook on the best habits and practices for Elf-husbandry?¡±


    Mistress laughed in his face.


    ¡°This is my thirtieth,¡± she chuckled, wrapping her arm around Kishirra¡¯s waist. ¡°I will be glad if I never see your face again. Please erase yourself up to three tiers of core relationships from me.¡±


    The vendor, with a grim expression on his face, tapped on his wrist ¡ª a few more flashes of overwriting light and he disappeared, never to be seen again by Mistress or her close ones. The batch of other Elves waited in silence for some other customer, now seemingly without a shepherd.


    It did not matter. They instinctually knew not to break ranks.


    ¡°Let us go,¡± Mistress purred in Kishirra¡¯s ears, drawing her towards the terrace¡¯s border.


    For the first time since she had come out of the Hearthwomb, Kishirra¡¯s brain could properly take in her surroundings, its higher functions now stirring, unlocked by a Kiengiri¡¯s purchase.


    As the overwriting light unfolded more and more abilities blooming into her brain, she felt a new emotion in her chest ¡ª it felt like she was falling forward into an abyss, but it was freeing, exhilarating, and it made her feel like she was becoming part of something larger.


    Only a little later, Kishirra would understand she was feeling awe.


    Past a few hanging flowers, the black stone terrace ended on a sheer cliff, as sharp as the edge of a knife. It was not a simple terrace, but the top of a tower, rising as tall in the sky as a hill. There were more like that all around, cleaving sunlight with their geometric shades. Each of them made of the same glistening black stone. People came and went all over the towers and the filigree bridges that connected them like an exquisite beehive where a Kiengiri city lived the zenith of their culture. Kishirra¡¯s ears picked up voices, songs, music and discussions ¡ª her nose the smell of flowers, and exquisite scents from the gardens on the lower levels.


    She looked down, seeing the ruined terrain at the bottom, where the black stone towers found their purchase in the desecrated soil. Her enhanced senses, waking up one after another, picked up on the desolate quality of the topsoil, on the layers upon layers of de-cognizants, woeful dross and polluting agents left there to brood for long years.


    The entire city of glistening towers was like a forest growing out of a forgotten, caustic mire.


    The feeling of wonder from before tinged by what lay below, Kishirra turned to look for Mistress¡¯ comforting presence.


    ¡°I¡ª¡± she said, looking for the right words. Her developing brain was trying to catch words, but it was like she was using a net far too wide. ¡°Down there. Not. Not good. Why?¡±


    ¡°Do not worry about it,¡± Mistress said, her smile like a string of perfect pearls, her blue eyes shining with such conviction that Kishirra felt like someone was washing away her woes, painting better thoughts over them. She relaxed. Her breathing became level again. She moved her gaze towards the beautiful city, and not the abyss that awaited at the bottom. ¡°We have more beautiful things to think about,¡± Mistress purred, gently pushing her towards the edge. ¡°Do you trust me?¡±


    She might as well have asked which way was up.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a good girl,¡± Mistress chuckled. She took another step towards the edge and jumped into the void, still holding Kishirra by her waist.


    Kishirra¡¯s heart jolted into her throat at the rush of wind ¡ª and the weightless sensation of falling, she was ¡ª falling, she was¡ª


    They landed on a smooth and soft texture.


    ¡°Wha¡ª what¡¯s that¡­¡± Kishirra gasped, looking at the large flying animal that had stopped their fall. It looked like a V-shaped blanket of warm skin, spongy and as black as Mistress¡¯ hair, its body thinning to the sides to two extended limbs.


    ¡°This is my transportation mantle,¡± Mistress explained. She sat on the mantle¡¯s tip, turning to regard her with a smile. The animal began to lazily flap its arms and it flew towards one of the highest towers. The wind caressed Kishirra¡¯s hair as she looked at the glistening city, its tall arches and bridges, and the pleasant, careless atmosphere that seemed to flow from every one of its Kiengiri inhabitants.


    ¡°You will like it here,¡± Mistress explained, and Kishirra found herself agreeing with a mirthful nod. ¡°I will show you the Garden first, so you can meet the others.¡±


    Ah, yes. She had mentioned having twenty-nine more Elves.


    ¡°I will decide which one of them pick up as your brother and sister,¡± Mistress said tapping her delicate chin. ¡°I was looking forward to have a little family there with me. Wouldn¡¯t you like to have a family, Kishirra?¡±


    She beamed ¡ª she was not sure what a family even was, but Mistress made it sound so delightful and important!


    ¡°Of course!¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, then. I am sure you will love your new brother.¡±

 Before the fall 1.2

    The Sunseeker seemed troubled. If he could, he would had looked at her with wide eyes. In the silent intimacy of the sand room, Kishirra shuffled her feet, feeling so exposed now that she was recounting these old memories. Exposed and peeled off, like an old fruit that someone had forgotten somewhere and picked up.


    ¡°This strains belief,¡± her superior groaned finally, passing a hand over his worried face. ¡°I have heard that Elves came from the great before, but that you actually preceded the Epochalypse¡­ that you actually met with the Kiengiri¡­¡±


    ¡°It is a bunch of ancient memories,¡± she added. ¡°And some of them are a bit hazy. Yet I still remember the sound of Mistress¡¯ voice. It has been etched into my skin, into my very flesh.¡±


    ¡°Deeper than the words of Ans¨¤rra?¡±


    ¡°I was the one to approach Her,¡± Kishirra explained. ¡°And I have made room in my soul for Her word, night and day, writing over what was left of me.¡±


    The Sunseeker sighed and leaned back.


    ¡°I suppose the Trial of Gold is going to show us everything for what it is.¡±


    Kishirra chuckled darkly.


    ¡°Will it? Master, you said before you believed in the truth of my devotion. Was this enough to make you go back on your words?¡±


    ¡°Nay. But you have to consider the depth of time. You speak of days so far gone. If my belief was a lifeline, you are asking me to throw it into the dark depths of the past, where I cannot see. Where I cannot have faith I see.¡±


    ¡°It is indeed a dark matter.¡±


    ¡°Does not look like much so far,¡± he scoffed. ¡°Talks of the Kiengiri speak of grandiosity, lavish conquests, pleasure and greed. They reached for the sky, they flew so close to the Sun to burn to cinders and leave the entire world covered in black ash. You recount you were part of that.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Kishirra agreed. ¡°I am one speck of that ash. And I am afraid pleasure and good memories will not last long.¡± She took a long breath. ¡°Neither did Mistress¡¯ words.¡±


    +++


    The Garden was everything Mistress had told her it was ¡ª and more. As Mistress invited her to step down from the mantle into the glass dome that covered another of the tall geometric spires, the scent of flowers was the first thing that hit Kishirra.


    She was used to drab, unremarkable confinements where she would sit in the dark, listening to the wavering breath of her brethren. But that was before she was recognised by Mistress.


    Beneath the dome there was a large patch of grass and low fruitful trees, surrounded by stone decorations such as columns, a dais and half-built statues. And what mattered was ¡ª it was full of Elves.


    They were both male and female, each of them wearing just a simple grey tunic which fell to their feet, but showing off their perfected bodies. Kishirra instinctively compared herself to the black hair and blue eyes of the others, the Kiengiri features she was also supposed to have, if it had not been for the Hearthwomb¡¯s manufacture¡¯s¡­ mistake?


    Mistress had accepted her, praised her for her lighter features, and she was grateful but ¡ª standing there as each of the other Elves turned to regard her, she felt put under scrutiny, appraised like a piece of a mosaic that did not really hold up.


    ¡°I-I¡­¡± she stammered, raking her brain for the right words. The gaze of the others felt like spears, so sharp against her sable skin. ¡°I¡ª¡±


    ¡°This is Kishirra,¡± Mistress saved her, wrapping her arm around her midsection and gently pulling her forward. Her naked feet tasted the grass and it was damp and tingly on her skin, but far from unpleasant. It felt a bit like coming home. ¡°She is my new addition and your new companion. You ought to treat her as one of your own from now on.¡±


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    Each of the other Elves nodded and it suddenly became true. Kishirra felt the pressure of social acceptance lift.


    She let out the breath she had been holding and tried to take a step forward, stumbled ¡ª someone held her.


    Not Mistress.


    A tall and dark-haired male, who gave her a half-smile, holding her up so that she could get better suited to her environment.


    ¡°A-Apologies,¡± she said. The male chuckled.


    ¡°You shall get used to it.¡± He turned to regard Mistress and she allowed him to speak. ¡°If I may ¡ª we are already a big herd here. Should we take care of her or should she be instructed to take care of herself first? She is brand new.¡±


    Mistress chuckled.


    ¡°Always so perceptive.¡±


    ¡°I can still smell the Hearthwomb on her,¡± he replied with a softer smile. ¡°It feels nostalgic, and I remember a time when I was a doubtful as she may be.¡±


    Mistress tilted her head and I awaited for her reply with bathed breath.


    ¡°I appreciate how kind you are, Gam¡¯mu.¡±


    Kishirra registered the newcomer¡¯s name. It sounded so different from hers ¡ª a bit rough and perhaps even uncouth, but it did have a beautiful meaning. A burning circle.


    ¡°Then perhaps I have found just the right specimen for her,¡± she declared. Leaning forward, she put Kishirra¡¯s and Gamm¡¯mu¡¯s hands together. ¡°You will be her new brother.¡±


    There was, once again, no further debate.


    Kishirra did not even blink, but when she raised her eyes from their linked hands she saw Gam¡¯mu as the family she never had. Her heart pulled with true softness, not the kind of absolute, all-encompassing obedience she owed Mistress, but a gentle and soft kind of love, a love that would welcome her.


    Gam¡¯mu¡¯s expression also turned a little softer and when he put his hand over her shoulder she welcomed it with grace.


    ¡°Thank you for this gift,¡± Kishirra dared to say. Mistress clapped her hands together and tittered, showing her excitement.


    ¡°I know! I realised at once he would be your perfect brother! Now, let¡¯s show her around, right Gam¡¯mu?¡± Mistress led them further inside the Garden. Kishirra, always the obedient sister, stuck by Gam¡¯mu side as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, protecting her from the curious gazes of the other Elves.


    Mistress¡¯ command had made any hostility truly void, but that did not mean that they enjoyed her presence.


    ¡°That would come with time, sister,¡± Gam¡¯mu assured her. ¡°Just do what I do and you will be another perfect part of the Garden.¡±


    ¡°I shall, brother,¡± she agreed, while Mistress watched them with stars in her eyes.


    ¡°So perfect! Ah, the theatrics and the softness, I love it all! Come on Gam¡¯mu, tell her, tell her!¡± Mistress pointed at a large tree a few paces ahead. Now that the dome rose further up, it had room to grow and it was maybe thrice as tall as Kishirra.


    ¡°Those are sweet fruits. We pick them when they are ripe,¡± Gam¡¯mu explained, taking one from the tree with one swift movement. ¡°We peel them, like this, and see, the inside is full of seeds.¡± He showed her. It was filled with juicy red seeds. ¡°You can eat them, go ahead.¡±


    Kishirra did as she was told, aware of Mistress¡¯ excited gaze. She put a few seeds in her mouth and they tasted¡­ sweet, but also zesty. Some distant part of her synapsids, doubtlessly generated by the Hearthwomb, informed her that the fruit tasted a bit like ants, but also sweet like honey.


    ¡°It tastes like ants!¡± Kishirra declared, pick a few more seeds to eat.


    Gam¡¯mu chuckled at her enthusiasm.


    ¡°If you would like to speak of it like that, dear sister. You will live like this with us: we pick the fruits when they are ripe, and we take care of the plants and the grass. Nothing more is asked of you than being pleasant to the eye and to the ears.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Mistress sighed, coming closer to brush away a lock of her blond hair from her face. ¡°You are all so effortlessly beautiful, so gorgeous and perfect.¡± A tinge of longing cracked into her voice and Kishirra waited for her to continue. If she could help by lending Mistress an ear¡­ ¡°And you are going to be like that for ever.¡±


    Kishirra frowned.


    Ever.


    That word sounded far too hard even for someone like her, even for something like the Hearthwomb.


    ¡°You are all so blessed, even if you do not know. You cannot understand it yet, but in time¡­¡± Mistress¡¯ hand came to rest on Kishirra¡¯s cheek and she let out a soft gasp at how right and pleasant that touch felt. ¡°We could not grant it to ourselves, but we did manage to give it to you. The ultimate gift of eternal life. You are immortal, Kishirra. You and all of your kind. You will live forever, even when I have departed this world¡­ in a way, I am being so selfish, don¡¯t you think? Even when I am nothing more than a speck of dust in the earth, my memory will live on through all of you. Forever.¡±


    Kishirra frowned.


    ¡°I do not want you to turn into a speck of dust, Mistress.¡±


    She laughed.


    ¡°Neither do I! But that is something I cannot change. Ah, never mind,¡± she said and Kishirra stopped worrying so much about it. ¡°Enjoy your new life! Enjoy your new family! And be happy every day. Promise me, dear Kishirra. Promise me¡­¡± she held Kishirra¡¯s hands into her own and whispered against her skin: ¡°¡­ promise me you will be what we cannot. Promise me you will be happy every day.¡±

 The Short Sun 1.1

    Sitting in the meditation room, Kishirra took a few moments to look at the Sunseeker as he digested her tale. She saw him shake his head and mumble a few prayers.


    ¡°Toys, then,¡± he said at last. ¡°Or perhaps something more akin to pets. Like cattle you can converse with. Is this what you are telling me? Is this the origin and purpose of Elves?¡±


    Kishirra nodded, running her dark fingers against the shifting sand.


    ¡°It surely used to be for our old masters. They built us in their image, more resistant and tougher than they.¡±


    ¡°And more long-lived.¡±


    Kishirra winced.


    ¡°Not exactly.¡± She stood up. ¡°It is almost time for my trial. I will have to explain this part as we walk.¡±


    +++


    Weeks and month ran by like water running on marble. Kishirra did get used to her life in the Garden after all, and more easily than she believed. She did strike up a few thin friendships, but she spent most of her time with her brother and another female Elf who Mistress had purchased after her, adding it to her family as a sister. The three of them sat beneath the red-fruited tree and enjoyed the warm rays of the morning.


    Kishirra looked up at the clear sky, the endless, perfect blue reaching all the way up to the infinite beyond. The Hearthwomb had added no specific information on the sky, maybe because after all she was not required to know anything beyond the fact it was there, and even though she liked the Garden, a small part of her did crave to know a little more about it.


    With her appointed sister asleep on her lap, Kishirra raised her hand to cover the sun, letting its rays play between her fingers.


    It had been some time since she had spoken with Mistress. She had seemed troubled the last few times she had seen here.


    She would have liked to help her. But what could she do? She was just an Elf and Mistress was¡ª she was Kiengiri.


    ¡°She seemed troubled.¡±


    Gam¡¯mu picked up on her expression and turned to look at her, a warm arm holding her shoulders.


    ¡°Mistress will be fine. Her troubles are beyond our abilities to care. Besides¡­¡±


    Kishirra was not listening anymore. She turned her eye to the west.


    What was there? The dawn? But it couldn¡¯t be¡­


    Gam¡¯mu noticed it as well he turned towards the growing light in the west.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± He gaped as it grew brighter and brighter, eating through the sky with its golden hue, then to a feverish white that pierced Kishirra¡¯s retinas.


    She lost her ability to speak as the liquid dawn crashed onto the city, turning the air into fire, stone to slab and bones to memory.


    +++


    Kishirra leaned against the doorway. The sensation of the cold stone felt comforting. She was not there anymore. She was here, now. With the Sunseeker and Ans¨¤rra to guard her soul.


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    ¡°It was like stepping into a pool of liquid heat. The Garden was destroyed in an instant, as were most of the smallest and narrowest towers.¡± Her hand rubbed the black stone of the palace. ¡°It was the same as this, the glasstone of Sabgisu.¡±


    The Sunseeker sighed, touching the stone as well.


    ¡°You could take a slab of black glasstone as thin as a nail, hammer at it with a mallet for a hundred years and it would not even chip. That was¡ª you lived through the Epochalypse, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I did not have a chance to give it a name,¡± Kishirra mused, her lips turning into a wry smile. ¡°And I did not live through it at all. My body is very resilient, but not nearly as much as glasstone. I was vaporised before I could understand what was going on, before I could say goodbye to Mistress, or to my brother and sister.¡± She paused, as if trying to catch fragments of thoughts that were supposed to be long gone. ¡°I think the first to go was my skin, then my flesh, and my bones ¡ª turned to mist. The heat ate through the stone next, cooking and boiling. It did not stop ¡ª the towers, one after another, melted and fell. Only a few of them still stood. And nobody remembers what they used to be¡­ the glory and pride of the Kiengiri people.¡±


    ¡°And yet you are here,¡± the Sunseeker stated.


    ¡°Ah, yes.¡± Kishirra took a step out of the door towards the open corridor that would leave to the room for her Trial. ¡°That was also part of the lie. You see, I was brought back.¡±


    +++


    Night came, but only in the sky. The valley of K¨¬tum, where Kishirra and the Garden and Mistress Ereshkigalla once stood now reduced to a molten sea of glowing rock. The drunken towers lay against each other, most of them broken, some still standing, if only because they held onto each other, the majority reduced to a slab of geometric memories, slowly cooling down. The blackstonethat no storm could weather down, that would be standing a thousand¡¯s thousand years had bowed before the localised dawn like blades of glass before a gale.


    The air itself broiled with vapour and hissed with the noxious air of the shattered earth as it released its breath from its broken intestines. Old-fashioned molten rock, the kind that would be found in volcanic areas, spewed from the fissures, spreading far and away. Winds picked up pace as the air cooled and fought against each other, carried not just by the destruction but by the lingering effects of the Kiengiri¡¯s dominion, on a day that would have been their last.


    And in the sky there was something new as well: a huge glowing arc spread throughout the entirety of the cosmos, blinding the stars with its brightness. It was still diffused and chaotic but it was already starting to take a definite shape, a sickle that was bright enough to cast shadows throughout the destroyed valley.


    Then dawn came, the usual, calm and gentle kind. Not a shadow moved in the K¨¬tum that was not more molten rock of clouds of hissing vapours. Everything that once lived had been turned to little more than its own shadow, and then the surface that shadow rested had been vaporised or melted.


    So, for many long days and nights, as the K¨¬tum fell into an uneasy stillness, as the molten rock of the violated earth returned to its bowels and the clashing winds found a definite pattern to resolve their contentions, carrying the noxious echoes of the lost civilisation, nothing moved in the valley.


    And then, one night, when the clouds had mostly parted, under the shade of one of the leaning needle-like towers something stirred. Bit by bit, strings of flesh and sinew, drops of ichor and bands of muscles gathered together, like rivers in a basin. Bit by painful bit the layers of dark skin knit with each other, and with those came a fuzz of blonde hair, teeth grew and affixed themselves to a mouth as the skull found its place, restoring the visage of lost Kiengiri, a gorgeous woman with slightly-pointed ears.


    Her eyes opened, and the lingering soul that was trying to fold itself into a new body looked up at the violated world, and a gurgle escaped her chapped lips. Her grey eyes fixated on the arc of glowing light, and feverishly looked around, searching for ¡ª Mistress ¡ª but as they did the noxious gas from the K¨¬tum choked her breath with their poisonous fumes.


    The head fought for a while against the poison, spitting white foam as pain ran like a storm throughout all of its nerves, as Kishirra¡¯s soul, nailed to the earth like a blackstone coffin, fought valiantly for a body that could withstand the torture of the destroyed K¨¬tum.


    Sometimes she screamed, sometimes she gurgled, and she kept searching for ¡ª Mistress ¡ª until her eyes burned themselves blind from the gases and they popped and ran down her cheeks like a pair of final tears. She kept murmuring her name with her swollen tongue until it fell still against her throat and it suffocated her.


    She kept trashing and shuddering until her soul lost all of its gathered strength and was forced, for the time being, to leave her body.


    Everything considered, it took her half a day to die a second time.

 The Short Sun 1.2

    Kishirra walked forward on the corridor, the Sunseeker easily keeping pace with her. As they left the meditation area, the blackstone architecture of the palace widened, opening in tall arches and windows which let more sunlight peek through in veils and glistening rays. More devotees of Ans¨¤rra passed by, throwing an odd glance at the presence of the Elf and a respectful nod at the Sunseeker, who mostly ignored them. He was focused on Kishirra and she felt his blind gaze on her as they reached a round balcony that gave on to the open air.


    ¡°I needed to take a breath,¡± she explained herself, leaning against the balcony and looking down at the verdant hills and open plains of the Holy Land. The wind picked up and played with her hair, shifting them back and forth like a sea of gold. Beneath them, the lower layers of the palace also moved against the wind, the gardens and pools and squares full of people from the lowest servant to the highest-ranked Sunseeker going to their business, and below still, a thousand paces beneath, the tips of the trees waved back and forth caressed by the air.


    The floating palace was now headed towards the shore. They had caressed the tips of the mountain and, in an opposite movement to the Sun¡¯s own direction, it was now headed back towards the east and the ocean, and the white-walled cities of Ans¨¤rra¡¯s inner domain.


    In that direction the silver arc that cut through the sky could be clearly seen. She had been there when it had been made.


    She had been lucky enough to reach the Holy Land. Blessed enough to be here, where she could breathe clear air. Behind her, the range of snow-tipped mountains extended like a shield. She and the Sunseeker turned to regard it. Imposing, taller than the clouds, it proceeded for miles and miles in the inner parts of the continent, past the wilderlands, protecting the Holy Land from the evil winds and poisonous emanations of the destroyed territory that laid behind.


    ¡°I consider this my third life,¡± Kishirra explained the holy man. ¡°I have started to count them as lives since the day my body got resistant enough to survive inside the ruins of the K¨¬tum. Everything else was just¡­¡± she shrugged. ¡°Another cycle, I suppose. You see, when the Kiengiri made us, they tried to do something with our souls. To our souls. I am not sure. We figured it out in due time. We keep folding again and again. Something in our souls remembers our shape, like an old sheet of reedpaper folded time and time again. We continue, we keep reforming, we come back.¡±


    ¡°I fail to see the lie, then,¡± the Sunseeker sighed. ¡°In truth, you are saying exactly what I had expected. That Elves are removed from death altogether, and they keep coming back each time. How is that not immortality? How is that not¡ª¡±


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    ¡°Think¡­ of the folded sheet, Master,¡± Kishirra interrupted him, something that would have had her whipped, but the old man just let her continue, ¡°it gets folded again and again, but what happens to the reed paper? How many times can you keep¡­¡± she mimed the motions with her hands, ever faster and more frantically, ¡°¡­ can you keep twisting and bending the paper before all its fibres grow weak and tired? And how many times can you do it until it¡¯s just pain and pain and memories of sorrow? Until it rips apart?¡± Her hands fell to her sides. ¡°I am going to finish my story soon, but please let¡¯s go to the vestibule first. I want to tell you everything before I get ready for the Trial.¡±


    ¡°Let us do that. So you can tell me how you find out about all this.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t me. It was thanks to my brother,¡± she sighed. ¡°What my brother has become.¡±


    +++


    It lasted for a day, and it lasted for a month, and it lasted for a season.


    It lasted for fourteen years.


    In a secluded place in the valley of K¨¬tum, amidst the destroyed towers, a mass of burnt skin and flesh would gather, try to take form. It would open its eyes to the immensity of the sky above, to the tarnished firmament that still oozed silver light from its arced wound.


    Then the poisons and heat from the air and destroyed soil would seep in, and the mass of skin and flesh would gurgle and scream and die, dissolve into the earth from where it came.


    The same mass would come back, growing from the memory nailed into reality by a disappeared people that had been burned to nothingness, but whose actions still echoed into her soul.


    And like a trapped echo at the bottom of a well, it would keep repeating, each time into a maddening cycle.


    Again and again, as punctual as the seasons.


    If outside the K¨¬tum snow fell, the mass would grow at the shade of the collapsed towers.


    And it would die.


    If flowers bloomed, it would swell in a vitrified crater on the ground.


    And it would wither.


    If summer grew gifs, it would appear again under a fragment of molten wall.


    And it would burst into charred flesh.


    If autumn carried leaves in the wind, it would surface between sharp fissures, looking up at the tarnished sky.


    And the cycle would repeat, each time a little faster, each time a little stronger.


    Bit by bit, a hint of arms and legs would grow.


    Over the next cycle, more skin would come, better suited to the supremely-hostile environment of the blasted land.


    And on the fourteenth year after the all-destroying dawn had come to the valley of K¨¬tum, a naked body of a sable-skinned woman, with long blonde hair and red-tinged eyes would sit up, choking golden ichor from her lips, coughing and shuddering, breathing in poisonous air which burned through her lungs and made her heart feel like it was beating through nails, but she would be alive and she would stay alive.


    At least for a while.


    Pearled with sweat and dirt and abhorrent cinder her face would frown as she lifted her eyes to destroyed towers, trying to see which one used to house her Garden, and her family and most importantly her¡ª


    ¡°Mistress?¡± She called.


    No answer came with the dead wind.

 The Short Sun 1.3

    ¡°Your memories are indeed ragged,¡± the Sunseeker muttered as he kept listening. They had now reached the vestibule and Kishirra was taking off her grey robe, revealing her underwear. If he had been any other man, the Sunseeker might have been swayed by Kishirra¡¯s perfectly-balanced proportions, but he now perceived, with his blind gaze, her body as something that carried intention and refinement rather than mere attraction.


    Ans¨¤rra knew that the body had its needs and they ought to be answered. The sacred prostitutes at the Flame Temples made sure of it. But there was something else in Kishirra¡¯s form now that he knew her a little better. In her grace he saw the echoes of the previous civilisation, the lingering will of the Kiengiri. ¡°You have no idea how long you spent in the K¨¬tum?¡±


    Kishirra stopped while she was already folding her tunic. She tilted her head as if she was listening to a secret tune.


    ¡°Not a precise idea. I could not even count the days. I would wager¡­ maybe fifteen years before I managed to create a body resilient enough. Give or take a few months.¡±


    The Sunseeker hissed.


    ¡°No wonder this Trial does not scare you. If I could apologise in lieu of the Kiengiri I would.¡±


    ¡°Never mind, Master. Ans¨¤rra accepted me when I asked for help, that is all the apology I could ask for.¡± She paused, taking a deep breath. Then she took off her underwear as well, standing naked in the vestibule. Kishirra flexed her sable fingers, checking their nimbleness. ¡°I was telling you about my brother,¡± she resumed, sitting on the floor in a meditation pose, kneeling with her hands up to the sky. ¡°I would like to dedicate this Trial to him. To his memory.¡±


    +++


    Kishirra spent many long years alone in the ruins of the blasted land. No path would bring her out of the cursed place. Every time she felt like she had found a lead, she found herself brought once again to the place with the molten columns.


    ¡°It is pointless,¡± she cried out one day, falling to he knees on the noxious mud. ¡°I cannot keep that promise, Mistress. I cannot.¡±


    The seasons came and went with the turning of the sky, but the K¨¬tum did not change. Whatever had blasted its civilisation into fine cinder was lingering, and the weather was as it had always been: clashing winds, unbearable heat and noxious fumes.


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    Kishirra survived on a diet of blackened rain and wizened roots. Her white teeth ripped half-dead plants from the ground, crunching on their wooden sinews, chewing on the paste. Barely enough to keep her continuing.


    And then one evening, while the sun was disappearing over the western border of the K¨¬tum, she spotted something else.


    Someone. Else.


    A figure covered in rags, stumbling more than walking amidst the dust. Even her Hearthwomb-gifted eyes would only see so far between the broiling vapour on the ground, so it was only when the figure got closer than she recognised him.


    At least parts of him. He had changed ¡ª he had been ruined, much more than she had been.


    His black hair grew uneven, and one of his blue eyes had turned a milky, unresponsive white. His lips curled into a rictus, he stumbled forward on stiff muscles and un uneven gait.


    But it was him.


    ¡°G-Gam¡¯mu,¡± she croaked. Her voice was uneasy, it had been too much time since she had used it to form words and not screams or grunts. She walked towards him. When he saw her, he dashed across the powder, as fast as his broken legs carried him and he hugged her.


    ¡°Kishirra,¡± he coughed. ¡°You have come back. You have¡ª¡± the cough got the best of him. She held him as the cough intensified, then they found a spot under the shadow of a molten tower, where air was marginally cooler, and where to sit down and talk. Gam¡¯mu hand felt so coarse into her own. Her skin was now leather-like from the wind and the sand and the heat¡¯s relentless assault, but it still resembled skin. Gam¡¯mu felt like holding a warm rock.


    ¡°I am here,¡± she said, holding him, just grateful for his presence after all these years. ¡°Mistress¡­¡±


    ¡°Mistress is gone. Gone forever,¡± he explained. ¡°I have crossed the entire desert looking for you, and all I have seen is other Elves, or their shadows. No Kiengiri had survived whatever¡­¡± he pointed his finger at the silver arc in the sky, ¡°¡­ whatever made that.¡±


    ¡°But you did. And I did! We can find a way to get out, and finally leave this place.¡±


    ¡°Easier said than done, sister,¡± he replied, still shaken by coughs. ¡°But I feel like there is a way. Our souls are tied to the earth, but just like the Kiengiri folded us into this shape, we can try and fold ourselves back.¡± He looked at her with his one good eye, while his hard finger brushed a blonde lock away from her face. ¡°At least one of us.¡±


    +++


    ¡°Back then I did not know what he truly meant,¡± Kishirra relayed to the Sunseeker, joining her hands for the final prayer. Then she picked up the sacred oils and a brush, starting to use the ointments on herself, scribbling Sanctions on her body. She was getting closer to the Trial of Gold. In truth, her heart did beat a little faster at the idea of the pain that awaited her.


    Maybe she was telling this story to strengthen her own resolve.


    She was a bit of an self-serving egoist, after all: all this, getting ordained, the Trial, the Quest which would follow¡ª it was all means to an end.


    She would do anything and everything in order to avoid the final fate of the Elves.


    The fate that had befallen her brother¡­ and so many others of her kin.


    ¡°Where is your brother now?¡± The Sunseeker asked.


    ¡°Where many other Elves are, Master.¡± Kishirra grimaced. ¡°He is still in the K¨¬tum. By now, he has become part of it.¡±