Outside Influences

I think the people of the Golden Plains are completely wrong about these elves, Beth mused as she stared at her reflection in the smooth water of a canal.

Beth had left the initial group of elves behind and followed the original canal until it met up with another, larger one. That one had combined once again into the current waterway, which was wider than any human could leap without an ability. The channel was wide and deep, and clearly well-maintained. It was also old, and the rocky path that ran alongside it had a deep furrow dug by the passage of many feet.

Judging from the ones who were rafting into the Golden Plains I was expecting a bunch of disorganized wild people, but this is too organized for that to be true, right?

Or maybe it wasn’t. Beth had to admit to herself that, as much as she knew about politics back in Satrap, she didn’t understand civilization in general.

“I’ll be so annoyed if this trip turns out to be all diplomacy and no violence,” she huffed. “How am I supposed to get stronger?”

She saw movement down the path, but this time Beth decided to stay still rather than conceal herself. For all she knew, some of these people were incredible hunters or woodsmen and she was making a fool out of herself with her feeble attempts at stealth. Beth pushed down her nerves and waited, doing her best to hold her body in a relaxed, non aggressive stance. She kept her hand well away from her daggers – the obvious ones at least.

On the other side of the canal a pair of elves were approaching her. They were slightly shorter than she was, the man coming up to her shoulder and the woman’s head just reaching his now. The man was armed with a wooden sword that looked as though it could barely slay a blade of grass much less one of the forest’s shadow raptors. He wore misshapen woven sandals and had pants and a long tunic that were dyed a mottled green. Beth couldn’t decide if that was their original coloration or if fighting grass was the elf’s calling and his clothes were soaked with the blood of his enemies.

The woman’s clothes were, Beth thought, better. There was some proper skill behind the crafting of her white blouse and long overtunic, although its vivid pink color made Beth was to scratch out her eyes. The woman also had long, flowing hair with flowers intentionally placed throughout.

Beth decided to address the woman rather than the man.

“Hi there,” she called out.

She wasn’t hiding, so her speaking didn’t catch them by surprise. Still, she was expecting more than just the idle glances sent her way.

“Can you understand me?” she asked in the language of the Golden Plains. There was no response.

“How about Satrapian? Or Mycenaean, whatever you want to call it.”

To Beth’s surprise, that got a slight response from the woman. She narrowed her eyes in Beth’s direction before shrugging and turning away.

“Can you point me to your king at least?” Beth grumbled.

The woman looked up and shrugged before pointing back down the canal.

“Elf bar elf bar bar,” she said.

“Great, thanks,” Beth snorted. “If you understand Mycenaean, then why don’t you speak it?”

The man decided to take exception at her tone and swept the woman behind him protectively. He said something sharp – probably “let’s not talk to this crazy woman” although it was just more elf noises to Beth – and the two of them wandered away.

“Okay, fine,” Beth muttered. “I guess that I’ll just go see the king.”

Beth set out down the path at a fast, angry walk. She passed by several more elves, but unless she blocked their path or made a lot of noise at them she was mostly ignored. Either outsiders are common here or these people don’t care about them.

The surging sound of water heralded her arrival at the water’s source long before she could see it. Beth climbed up a small embankment to get a better view and was awestruck by the raging torrent of water that spilled down into a massive lake. It was like a hundred waterfalls put together, roaring in competition to see which could be the most magnificent. The sun was lowering in the western sky, creating a brilliant rainbow from the mist that fought against gravity’s pull, creating a scene of power and beauty that left her dumbstruck.

Why didn’t the desert people just move here? Beth wondered. Fighting the elves must have been easier than fighting the Dark Ravager, right?

She stared in wonder at the sparkling lake that was filled by a constant flow of water. The falls dropped over several steps along several different routes to the lake, forming a cascade of water interspersed with several islands thick with green life. The sight was so grand and vast that it took her a minute to notice the construction that clung like a tick to the rocks between two of the falls. From her vantage point she could see the outline of what could have maybe been a palace.

“Or maybe the pieces of one,” she breathed, unimpressed. “Still, every palace has a king, right?”

She didn’t actually know for sure. Satrap had stories of the palaces built by rival kings during the period of infighting before Technis – supposedly – led the humans into the safety of his Barrier. The people of the Golden Plains had all manners of strange buildings and Outpost 3 was certainly large and grand, but she had never seen a real palace. She’d never seen a king either.

Beth shrugged and made her way along a path that she could see lead into a notch carved behind the waterfalls. The moment she went behind the falls the light dimmed and the noise of the water drowned out everything else. The path’s footing was water-slicked and treacherous, but she hadn’t seen any other way to approach the palace, unless she wanted to swim through the violent water.

If there was going to be an ambush, this is the spot, she thought nervously. Beth couldn’t help but keep her hand gripped around the pommel of a throwing dagger that she wouldn’t mind losing in a wild throw, although she didn’t draw it. She proceeded like that for several minutes without passing a single elf on her way.

This is too suspicious, she thought. If this is the only path, then where is everyone?

Beth slowed down, taking her time to examine the wall for hidden passages or spy holes as she moved.

Nothing.

Her forehead creased with worry. The curve of the rock wall concealed the way forward, but she was fairly certain that the palace was nearby. Yet she had seen no one so far.

Beth huffed with frustration and spun around, trying to figure out what she was missing. She stuck her head dangerously close to the falling water as she leaned out over the edge of the path. The water was topped with a thick froth that made it impossible for her to see beneath the surface.

Suddenly, a dark shape plummeted past her. It was immediately forced under the surface and was followed by several more dark blurs. Beth jumped back from the edge and relied upon her abilities to keep herself from slipping as she drew her dagger.

Are those people jumping? Isn’t that dangerous?

Her question was immediately answered when one of them struck a glancing blow to the rock above her. She heard a brief cry before the body plunged into the water. The force of the falls immediately shoved the person down.

Beth thought about jumping in, but with one arm any attempt at a rescue would be pointless. It’s not like I owe these people or anything.

She tilted her head. Or would rescuing one of them buy me some gratitude? That sounds like one of James’ parables.

Before she finished the though, a pair of young boys leaped from the water like dolphins. They hauled up the injured one between them, dumping him unceremoniously on the rock path.

“Hi there–” Beth shouted, but the boys dove back into the water without even sparing her a glance.

“Nice to meet you,” she snarked. To be fair, she couldn’t even hear herself talk so a conversation would have been impossible even if they spoke the same language.

Beth knelt down to examine the injured child. He was an elf, probably, although it seemed that their ears became more pointed as they aged so his was fairly round. She stared at him for a few moments, waiting to see if he was breathing.

He wasn’t, a blood was flowing freely from his skull.

“Yeah, I don’t think there’s anything I can–”

She stopped midword when the boy’s blood paused and rushed back into his body. He shuddered and gasped. Then he turned over and began to cough up water.

Interesting, Beth thought. Enhanced healing. I guess that explains why Hanti always insisted that we remove their heads or stake them through their hearts.

She tapped her teeth as she pondered the possibilities. They’re probably a pain to hunt if they can all attack recklessly. No wonder the wildlife leaves them alone.

Beth decided to move on. The children were fine, probably, even if they were throwing themselves off of a cliff and down a waterfall.

I’m supposed to be preventing more fighting between our peoples, she told herself. It’s an urgent mission that may or may not involve stabbing. I can’t hang out with these kids.

Beth hurried along, her mind whirling without thoughts of how she would fight someone who could heal from fatal wounds. It depended a lot upon their healing speed she decided.

She rounded a bend and the palace finally came into sight. It was…very unfinished. Beth scowled when she saw that the bridge that would connect her path to the temple was also half-finished. She glanced around and saw an entrance to a tunnel at the end of her path, but no way to get to the palace directly.

She clicked her tongue as she examined the disappointing building. The area was perfect, with a large outcropping of stone pushing the waterfalls out far enough that there was a peaceful area of water in front of the building’s courtyard. The building, though, was barely more than an idea chipped into the wall of the cliff. There were loose stones that she presumed were meant as building materials, but some of them were covered in layers of moss so thick that she guessed the work was barely progressing. The elves and stones were both lying around in disorganized clusters, although there was slightly less moss on the elves.

Some of the locals were napping and some were fishing and some were doing both.

I take it back, she thought, there’s no way a king would be okay with this. Technis’ priests would lose their shit if their workers were this lazy.

Beth’s lips twisted as she considered the dark hole that lead into the tunnel at the end of the path. She’d walked an entire day and was tired. Walking into a foreign fortress was perhaps pushing things too far.

As she considered her next move, an elf with a tall hat emerged from a tunnel near to the unfinished palace. He looked like any other elf Beth had seen with the exception of his hat: it was easily as tall as he was. It wobbled precariously as he walked, forcing him to walk with a stiff, awkward gait. For all its height, it was just a tall, cloth head covered in dark feathers.

Beth snickered at the sight.

Unlike Beth, the rest of the elves stiffened when they saw the one with the tall hat. One even tried to run, but the newcomer moved like the crack of a whip and cut off the runner. Keeping on hand on his hat to maintain its balance, he reached out with his other arm and grabbed the frightened elf by the wrist.

Then he spun and launched him into the rock wall. Beth couldn’t hear a sound over the water, but she wince with sympathy as she imagined the bone-crunching noise that his impact must have made.

The tall-hatted one didn’t pause for a moment, immediately laying about with a voice so loud that it almost drowned out the waterfalls. He screamed and yelled at the other elves, kicking their fishing poles into the water and tossing them about until he corralled them into an area in front of the unfinished palace. Then he screamed more, pointing at the stones and the palace until he was red in the face.

Beth clicked her tongue. I’ve seen some bad-tempered taskmasters in Satrap, but this guy has got to be the worst.

The rest of the elves moved slowly to some of the large blocks and began to lethargically push them towards their intended destinations. The hatted-one yelled some more and some of the elves lifted a few tools to speed things up. With a bit more cajoling from their angry leader the elves had placed wooden rollers under the stones and moved them quickly to the unfinished palace wall.

Then the screaming began anew as the lead elf pointed angrily. The rest of the elves moved the stone a few steps to the right, then back to the left, then to the right again. The process went on until the yelling elf was so red in the face that Beth though his blood vessels would burst from his face. He finally stormed off with a series of un-elflike words that Beth presumed were curses.

The rest of the elves pretended to push their stones as he stalked away, but they all relaxed the moment he passed into the tunnel. In another minute they were back to their previous activities, with only a single properly placed stone to show for their efforts. Beth shook her head with disbelief.

Was that the king?

Beth’s curiosity won out and she decided to enter the tunnel nearest her.

He looked tough, but he didn’t seem all that smart. Even if I can’t beat him, I bet that I ca get away if he attacks.