The Ancients and the Angels: Celestials

By M.C. O'Neill

BOOK ONE: “CELESTIALS”

Winner of the Winter 2012 NABE Pinnacle Award for best Science Fiction.

On an ancient Earth not long before the dawn of mankind, a great and terrible war is imminent between mortals and the demonic forces from the hells. It falls on one young maiden’s shoulders to fight back the armies of the damned. Read Celestials and enjoy this supernatural tale of a frightening yesterday!

INFERNAL INVASION! The bowels of Hell open wide and demonic forces attack the living on an ancient Earth shortly before the birth of humanity!

Celestials is a blend of Sixteen Candles meets the books of the Nephilim detailing a world not long before ours, but long forgotten. A planetary romance mixed with urban fantasy, readers from age thirteen to one hundred thirteen will enjoy this maiden’s fantastic journey into the paranormal and supernatural.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M.C. O'Neill
• Release date: May 9, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301973552

M.C. O'Neill

M.C. O’Neill was born in Chicago, Illinois on a cold November morning and graduated from Indiana University with a B.A. in graphic design, later to be awarded an MFA in painting from the University of Cincinnati. Currently, O’Neill resides in Des Plaines, Illinois.

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Preface

Dearest Reader,

For generations immemorial, scholars and theologians have been undertaking a valiant effort to set forth a final decision as to what our beforefathers did on an earth prior to the ongoing trials and struggles of homo sapiens sapiens (that’s you!). I shall not attempt to answer that with any truth here, although none of the names of the innocent or the guilty have been changed. This tale you are about to devour could only be construed as entertainment. Sit back wherever you may be and enjoy a wonderful and horrible yesterday.

All the best,

M.C. O’Neill

Many thanks to Patrice Ekins, Ken Henson, and Mom.

NB: As per the Toltec tongue, Xo’chi is to be pronounced as Shoat-ZEE.

I.THE SONG OF SAMMIAN

"I see Earth! It is so beautiful!"

-Yuri Gagarin

"What it is, only God knows."

-H.P. Lovecraft: The Color Out of Space (1927).

Tremor

They arrived in the late afternoon. Them. They were made from nothing more than the simplest of shapes, yet that shape would prove to become a badge of doom. That afternoon, in the middle of what seemed to be an ordinary Fourthmoon, the sun was interrupted by their shadows upon every corner of the earth. They broke through the very fabric of reality like ripped linen in frightening synchronicity, and they all loved being a part of that foul moment, if one could call what they felt love. As for all that lived on Earth, they held nothing but spite. It was an unholy malice that was forged and forever cemented not long after that wonderful blue world’s creation. Little did the people of the earth know that terrible day, they were targeted for a grand rapture, and their destination would be total damnation.

***

Quen’die Reyliss was lounging in the blue glow of the large wall-mounted manascreen which had been a monumental fixture in her family’s spacious living room for quite some time. She looked down from the sofa at her brother with a bit of irritation. Gonduanna Vice was blaring through the speakers at a level only he could tolerate. The elf was sitting cross-legged on the floor, much too close to it, entranced by the intense action of Gonduanna’s Finest busting a cartel of hyena poachers.

Yeah! Kill ‘em! Kaedish cheered for the onscreen officers as they closed in on the criminals who were huddled in their tropical hideout. Get ‘em good!

By the gods! Would you turn that down some? She scolded him from over the blaring racket of shouts, caster fire and hyena cackles. I mean, you’re only a hand’s length away!

"Hush, will you! I want to see Specialist Nabudu’ke take these poachers down! Kaedish hated being interrupted while he was watching his shows, but it was all the worse if he was being told what to do. Besides, why don’t you call up your dumb friend, the one with the huge ears instead of bugging me and just leave me alone?"

Oh, you mean you want me to invite Lauryl’la over, hmm? Quen’die widened her eyes and flashed a giant grin to taunt him. I think someone here is in love! Sometimes, the maiden judged, Kaedish needed the jabs to take his mind off the screen which he had become ever the more glued to.

I don’t love her! He detested being teased about maidens as it was still a big topic of embarrassment to a lad of his age. "She’s stupid, she has gigantic ears, and she’s at least ten feet tall. Not only that, her constant laughing makes my ears ring!" Kaedish would not divert his gaze from the foreign police drama.

You, dear brother, are a liar. And I can tell when you lie because your feet stink and your ears wiggle. With that, Quen’die giggled. "Seriously though, lower the volume. It wastes mana and Mother and Father will get mad at me when they get the bill."

Kaedish surrendered to his sister’s wishes and groaned in dejection as he uttered the directive for the screen’s sound to lower to a more acceptable level. "Yeah, all right. Telen’vid Sien…"

Why thanks, Kaedish. Now I can think properly. The young elfmaid got up from the large wraparound sofa. The blast from the cacophonous soundtrack was still grating on her nerves despite her brother conceding to her demands.

That’s funny, Kaedish at last broke from the screen and turned around toward the maiden. I didn’t know you had any brains in the first place.

Whatever, she rolled her eyes. I’m going to get a red avocado. Do you want one? she asked him while half-hoping that he would say no so she wouldn’t have to bother preparing another one.

No, he was becoming more annoyed by her attentions and he figured she was doing it on purpose. Wait! Do we any fried gram left? he inquired with a sudden puppy-like enthusiasm.

Nope, she flipped back her thick hair with an air of authority. And we aren’t getting any more either because Mother said it will destroy our complexions. Don’t you want to look handsome for Rylla? Hmm…? Quen’die continued to tease as she caressed her smooth skin with an absence of thought for any possible blemishes. She was relieved to find none.

Just be gone! The young elf was now being pushed to his limit with his sister’s teasing. I don’t like Lauryl’la or any of your other stupid elfmaid friends! Much like you, none of them are pretty enough for the likes of me, he managed to add with a self-congratulatory bang to his chest.

Kaedish, everybody in school knows that you’ll end-up marrying a swamp hag. So once again, I have proven you wrong. She made her way through the voluminous archway which led to their kitchen. Her long, gossamer skirt swirled around her ankles as she walked.

Surprised to see only one red avocado left, she ordered ice from the refrigerator. "Aquan’as fris, she chanted to summon the cubes into her glass. Just as she was about to peel the ruddy fruit, the new manaphone that her folks got her for Wintersfest called out in its ghostly, but feminine, musical voice, Maiden Quen’die, Maiden Lauryl’la calls you." After some frantic searching for her most prized gift, she found the device forged of creamy cured jade on the counter next to the kitchen’s hearth.

Hey, Rylla, what’s up? She greeted just in time before the flow cut.

Hey, Dee, how goes it? Lauryl’la answered in her usual chipper voice. It was quite the contrast to Quen’die’s calm and flowing manner of speech.

Pretty good. If only my dumb brother would wink out of existence. You know, I think he crushes for you because every time I mention your name he goes totally red. Quen’die could tell that her brother had some unsaid feelings for her best friend. Of course, he would never vocalize this because he knew that his sister would never let him hear the end of it.

Foul! her friend winced over the phone. Do you think I should avoid coming over until he decides to act like an elven being, or at least until his face clears up?

No, Quen’die was somewhat offended at Lauryl’la’s remark regarding the lad. I think you’ll be fine. He’ll just get shy and hide in his room, anyway. Don’t worry too much about it.

Although she engaged in constant spats of varying intensity with her younger sibling, she still felt an urge, or more like an obligation, to protect him when someone outside of her family insulted him; regardless of whether he deserved it. As far as Quen’die was concerned, only she had the right to offend her brother.

Point noted. Are you still going to the big thing this weekend? I’m so lucky to have parents that work at the same place… Lauryl’la boasted in excitement, …and go on training missions together. It’s going to be so amazing! As a matter-of-fact, I told Hyrax about it. When I let him know that you would definitely be there, his ears seriously turned like, bright pink!

Quen’die had carried a bit of a crush for Hyrax Arcovis ever since she joined the runta team at school. He was a rather intimidating sight, to say the least. At the age of sixteen, he was already seven feet tall and wore his obsidian-black hair in a lush topknot. For the most part, he was quite friendly to her, but every time she opened her mouth to speak to him, she could barely muster a monosyllable. That was such a frustration for her since she considered herself to be a very sharp elf as she had made the academic warden’s list every semester since entering adept school.

Why on Earth does my intelligence drop like a bucket full of bricks every time I face him? she had often asked herself in a state of bewilderment. After all, I aced my Astrophysical Navigation classes with honors and nobody does that. Nonetheless, I can’t string the fewest of words while I’m around a particular male. Lauryl’la’s news of his blushing did little to soothe her nerves because she knew that she would still flub any conversation she attempted with him while staring at his frame in a regretful, hypnotic trance.

Oh gods! Is he seriously going to show up? Quen’die tried to stifle a shocked gasp. As this was going to be her first social gathering outside of a school function, it was already a daunting event, but knowing this made her all the more knotted.

That he is, so you definitely need to look cute for this, her best friend advised.

From the living room, Kaedish was throwing one of his usual tantrums about some trivial crisis involving the manascreen. Quen’die could hear the din of him smacking its frame with a rather harsh force, and this belayed her cold feet regarding Hyrax.

Just a moment, Rylla, she was becoming more exasperated with her brother and now that he was firing up his angry antics, she could feel a headache brewing. Kaedish! she called into the living room. Knock it off! You’ll break it and it’s expensive!

The screen just shut off for no reason and now I can’t see the end of my show! This thing is a Tel’lemurian piece of junk! I have no clue why Father bought this model in the first place! He would often cry about such stupid gadgets as if his life depended on them. Just to pack in the point, he smacked the frame once again.

Well, acting like a newborn elfling and pummeling it won’t make the mana flow any better. You’ll just wind up busting it permanently, she lectured him like a harsh academic warden, which was something she found herself doing almost every hour on the hour.

Stop calling me an elfling! he cried through the wide, main archway. "I hate it when you do that! You always do that!"

Kaedish had been acting out quite a bit as of late; more than a normal, well-adjusted, thirteen-year-old elf would. His behavior had gone downhill ever since their little brother passed away. He had felt somewhat like the lord of the house after Kellyn was born and he had been very protective of the baby. When the little elfling had succumbed to an unfortunate illness, the young lad had withdrawn into the shows, games and computer on the manascreen and had even begun to gain some weight as he was always snacking. With the exception of his particularly obnoxious friend Noopy, Kaedish had been isolating from his other peers and his grades had been falling at a steady rate. The pair’s mother and father were duly concerned about his routines and had sought counsel for their son. The school’s health warden had been administering potions and treatments to help alleviate his woe, but such a process would take some time to have a discernible effect. It was frequent that Quen’die took the brunt of the lad’s outrages and she had fretted that she was assuming the role of a third parent for him.

Unlike Kaedish, the elfmaid turned not to food, but immersed herself in athletics and academics to help cope with the family’s tragic loss. She always seemed to be busy with activities, curricular or otherwise, to the point that her mother would call her the invisible willow. Sometimes, the young maiden figured that it was her responsibility to hold everything together just in case Kaedish failed to do so.

As if the chaos around and inside her would not subside, Quen’die could feel the phone lose its vibration. Hello? Hello, Rylla? Hey, are you still there? To answer her question, the phone interjected with its soothing, singing voice, "I am sorry, Maiden Quen’die. There is a disruption in the manaflow. This conversation has been severed."

On that cue, all the lights in the house went out with a sudden bang and Kaedish screamed in shock. To add to the frightening event, all of the other mana vibrations in the house had ceased and Quen’die’s ears began to feel a bit hot. Their entire home was still, save Kaedish’s shouting.

Dee! What’s going on! What did you do? My ears are burning up! The elf was massaging the sides of his long, pointed ears as if the act would somehow cool them.

Kaedish, I’ve done nothing. Our power has just…

!!!

The next thing Quen’die knew was the feeling of being swept off her feet and onto the kitchen’s smoked-marble floor with a bone-stunning jolt to her rear end. Waves of pain surged up her slender back as she cried out in a combination of terror and misery. She hadn’t felt an ache so sharp since she slid on both knees while playing runta at school the year before. After the accident, she had been delivered to the emergency ward where the health wardens had to slather her legs with a particularly odorous mana-based salve for the next three days. Despite the foul smell of the medicine, she remembered the cool, soothing relief and marveled at how her scored skin would regenerate before her very eyes with each application.

Gods! Gods! We’re under attack! I just know it! Kaedish continued to bellow. He was lying face down on the living room’s mammothskin rug; his hands clutching the top of the coppery curls on his head. From time to time, Quen’die thought his brazen hair accentuated his fiery temper. The Lems are going to kill us! Maybe that was them landing or maybe it was even one of their airstrikes!

"Oh-OW! Fool! Quen’die admonished the lad in thoughtless pain, still flat on her back. She felt as though the very Earth’s gravity was sucking her entire body into the floor. I-It was just a bad tremor, she managed as she inhaled a deep gale of air. See? Our ears are even getting hot."

Yeah, but don’t the Lems have weapons that can cause tremors and earthquakes? Kaedish was going to start with his xenophobic paranoid theories again, Quen’die could foresee. "I’ve heard all about a new device they have that can rend the earth right out from under our feet. I know that’s what this is."

You watch the screen too much, she said to him with a grunt as she got herself up from the hard floor. Her whole body ached and she wanted to fall back down for a few seconds. The sting from her fall was still pulsing and a cascade of her oxblood-red hair was draped over her face. That’s a bunch of conspiracy and junk. Tel’lemuria can’t devise a weapon to crack the earth.

She pulled dense strands of her scarlet mane away from her eyes. Why would they want to do that in the first place? We’re at peace again, his sister tried to explain this to him as she limped back into the living room. This kind of pain would rear its head in intermittent, grinding reminders for days, she estimated.

Don’t be so sure, said her brother with a slow, wary warning. Those greenskins are sneaky and you’ll never be the wiser as to what they’re planning behind our backs. The next thing you know, you’ll fall through a fissure deep into the very earth’s core all on account of them!

Oh? Care to be any more racist, Kaedish? Quen’die raised an eyebrow. What did Mother say to you about using those kinds of words? The elfmaid massaged her stinging tailbone and the topical stab of the fall was already becoming a phasic pulse of agony.

I know, he began with a sheepish groan. I’m sorry. I just… I just don’t trust them. That’s all.

You know, Professor Miryon is a Lem and he’s one of the best teachers we have at school, Quen’die continued. I trust him well enough. And certainly, Tel’lemuria is chock-full of elves that are just as capital as he is.

Yeah, I guess. Like I said, I’m sorry about that. When stuff like this happens, I keep thinking about all the war stories our uncle tells us about the Lems and how it was pretty scary, Kaedish admitted. To only confirm the effect the old elf had on him, Quen’die noticed that the lad was wearing one of his uncle’s old, camouflaged Defense Forces t-shirts from that war which boasted in a stark military script:

"401st. Atlantean Light Lancers: Tu’balsyn, Tel’lemuria ‘69."

Look, those were different times before either of us was born and we’re very lucky to not have to live though them, Quen’die reminded him. Stop worrying about this kind of stuff. You know our uncle drinks too much wine before he goes on with those horrible stories.

She looked away toward the basement door, her attention diverted to more pressing matters. "Come on, we need to check to see if there’s any damage from the quake, and I assure you, it is just a quake." With that, she went back to the kitchen, still limping a bit, and rummaged through the broom closet to look for a couple of torches.

The two set off for the basement in hopes of reactivating the house’s power. Simultaneously, they slapped the ends of their torches as both devices awoke with a one-note tune, thus lighting their way towards their family’s manafountain.

Hey, Dee. If the mana isn’t flowing, why are the torches working? asked her brother.

Because they’re powered with ‘dumb’ mana. They have self-contained charges and aren’t linked to the flow, she responded to him with as much patience as she could.

Oh… right. Yeah, I knew that, Kaedish blushed, sensing her irritation.

Ever since Kaedish’s grades had begun to slip, he became somewhat self-conscious of his intelligence. It had become a bit of a soft spot for him and Quen’die tried her best to not berate his intellect during their fights which were increasing in frequency. That was difficult, in her opinion, because sometimes she felt that he was acting more or less ignorant by bothering her with some pretty common sense questions.

Their family’s vaulted basement was spacious, well-designed, and had fully-finished hardwood flooring with a small manascreen hanging from its curved wall. Their mother and father used it mostly to entertain guests from their job, and thus, it was decked out with entertainment fixtures such as a miniature runta tabletop game and a small bar which was stocked with many exotic (and some very expensive) liquors and elixirs. Behind it rested Father’s prized wine collection. Suspended from one wall in the middle of the room, a large plaque hewn from oak displayed a famous Atlantean motto cast in an ancient script, "Love This Earth or Leave It!" Set aside in another room, immovable as a mountain, stood the manafountain.

I don’t see anything wrong with it from the outside, Quen’die observed as she illuminated the monolithic appliance in the blue gloom of the outage. She didn’t want to make direct contact with it because she was worried about getting a burn. Under normal circumstances, the fixture would make an even-metered hum which they had taken for granted, despite it being rather loud. It all seemed quite ominous in that it was dead silent.

The house’s fountain was a floor-to-ceiling, bulging pillar that dug beyond their home’s foundation and deep into the earth below. Its sole purpose was to direct mana from their community’s manaspring and power their home with the raw energy derived from up in the earth’s manasphere. Screens, hearths, heating, lighting; almost all of their family’s appliances were dependent upon the pulse of the bulky thing. Their fountain was of a particular ornate model that was covered with runes and sigils which would throb with a bright blue light when it was in proper working condition. The model was of the finest Atlantean craftsmanship and hewn from petrified mahogany. Kaedish enjoyed bragging to his classmates how it was at least three centuries old.

That’s bad news, Kaedish lamented. It probably means the manaspring is messed up.

Yeah, more than likely, his sister agreed while still searching the pillar for a possible solution. Now all we can do is wait around for the power wardens to reboot it. I’m sure they’re working on it right now, especially since the whole town must be without power.

Just after Quen’die had spoken, a choral arpeggio of manasong coursed through the pillar and the tiny utility room was bathed in a blinding azure light throughout. The siblings both let out a startled yelp and laughed in unison with joy and relief. The fountain commenced humming its usual song of labor: "woob, woob, woob…"

Don’t look at me! the elfmaid giggled to her brother while shrugging her bony shoulders. I didn’t do it! She felt fortunate for her wisdom to not touch the apparatus, because the scorch would have been immense if she had placed her hand on it at the wrong time.

Throughout the entire house, their appliances and gadgets were singing their unintelligible tunes of arousal. Kaedish always loved to hear the house power up after a blackout because he thought it sounded so amazing.

Thank the gods that’s over with, the young elf commented. I didn’t want Mother and Father coming home to a blackout and then have them blame me for it.

You know they wouldn’t do that, his sister assured him. They’d know right away that it was a problem with the spring. Kaedish was accruing punishments all the more for his frequent outbursts and tantrums, but Mother and Father were very fair when it came to discipline. They would always listen to his side of the story, even if it was composed with his fuzzy logic.

They ran up the stairs into their modestly-designed living room. The overhead lights were once again charged and the pair could navigate through their family’s sparse, but elegant furnishings with ease. Device-by-device, the main floor came to life. The large, cured-ashwood screen on the wall rebooted with its familiar wakesong and, with a few flashes of light, displayed with pride its world-famous homescreen:

WELCOME TO MANASOFT!

A Dara’vanian Corporation.

"Connecting you and your loved ones for one thousand quality years."

Where shall we go today?

I thought they’d never ask, Kaedish answered the screen with a chuckle. Take me to channel 201, he ordered the entertainment system without pause. "Red Mana Overdose. Thanks."

Why must you watch those stupid, violent shows? his sister inquired of him. In that instant, she regretted it because she knew it would spawn yet another barrage of banter from his little hot head.

So what? Kaedish snapped, just as she had expected. You’re just gonna hop on your phone and call-up ten feet of Rylla and her big, dumb ears, anyway.

As if the gods themselves heard the young elf’s complaint, Quen’die’s manaphone sang to her, "Maiden Quen’die, Maiden Lauryl’la calls you."

See? What did I tell you? Kaedish slapped his knee with self-assured smugness. Point proven.

Whatever, Quen’die shot back as she answered her friend’s call, only to be assaulted by Lauryl’la’s excited jabber before she could even get the phone up to her ear.

Ohmygods! Ohmygods! Lauryl’la volleyed through the phone without taking a breath. "Maiden, have you seen what’s on the screen? You will absolutely not believe it!"

Hang on a moment, Quen’die ordered her friend. She was becoming a bit flustered from the ache in her back, Kaedish’s surly attitude and her eyes having to readjust to the light. Kaedish just awoke it. Did you have a blackout too?

"Yeah, we did, but that’s not the big deal. Just wait for one of the channels to come on. It’s all over the screen! her best friend squealed half in terror, half with excitement. Just watch it!"

Instead of Kaedish’s expected action/drama which almost always consisted of Atlantean spies assassinating Tel’lemurian terrorists in some exotic locale, or a legendary epic of his ancient forefathers exterminating hordes of orcs with glee, the two were met with a news report. Emblazoned in red across the screen, an alert warned:

EMERGENCY BROADCAST: SPECIAL NEWS REPORT

Onscreen, Quay’liss Dalian, a well-respected newsreader who covered only the biggest of the best stories, stood in front of a gigantic vessel of a make that Quen’die could not recognize. It wasn’t a crashed limmer, to be sure, as it was much too large for that. The best she could describe it would have been a smooth and streamlined pyramid or ziggurat poking at a slight angle from out of the earth. A caption at the bottom of the screen scrolled:

Numerous Vessels of Unknown Origin Appearing Across Atlantis. Communication Blackout With Other Nations.

The elves sat in rapt attention as Dalian reported the details of this mysterious incident. Even Kaedish wasn’t fidgeting as usual, and both of the teens’ eyes were as wide as a mountain elk’s. Onscreen, Dalian appeared to keep composure, but the siblings could tell that even her famous, steadfast iciness was beginning to show its cracks as she reported what must have been the grandest story of her career. A fashionable shock of blue-streaked, platinum-blond hair cascaded over one of her eyes and down her fine, chiseled features.

"Good evening, Atlantis. Tonight I am standing in front of what appears to be a giant pyramid of unknown origin at a location not far from our own capital city of Corosa. These objects suddenly materialized seemingly out of nowhere all across the kingdom in areas of thankfully low population. If you had experienced an earthquake or a tremor this evening, these monstrous hulks are likely to be the blame. Eyewitness accounts from around the provinces all share one report - they did not land from the skies. That is correct, and I repeat - these structures, or whatever they are, did not touch down, but rather…appeared. It is still not known what the natures of these objects are. Speculations that they may be vessels or devices, or perhaps, buildings have already set the manacloud abuzz with rumors and frankly, fearsome tales. Thus far, we have no tally in regards to damages or injuries due to this event or from any of the resulting tremors they have caused. We assure you that we will keep you informed of any developments regarding the nature of this strange arrival as soon as we are able."

HAW-HAW! Kaedish pointed at his sister with accusatory satisfaction. "What did I tell you? We are under attack! I’ll bet you a million brens that it’s the Lems! I’m gonna grab Father’s caster!" Despite his threat, the elf remained entranced by the news report and failed to respond to his own call to arms.

Quen’die ignored her brother’s outburst and kept her eyes transfixed on the screen. The maiden was trying to process all that was happening.

Hey, Rylla, she said to her friend without paying any real attention; unable to look away from the broadcast. I’ll call you back. I wanna see the rest of this.

Capital, Lauryl’la agreed. Isn’t this crazy? Until later. With that, she disconnected as Dalian continued the report.

As you can see, I am standing daringly close to this particular object. It is merely one of a reported one hundred appearances of these pyramidal objects throughout the kingdom. There may be several more than that as of yet undiscovered.

On the reporter’s cue, the recording mirrors of the newscast panned away from her to better establish the layout of the event. Hovering around the pyramid, combat-grade limmers belonging to the Atlantean Defense Forces beamed their spotlights to better reveal its size and shape. There was even a cadre of large, wooden power-golems festooned in Atlantis’s blue and white markings clunking around the hulk’s base. Atlantean standards fluttered from poles which jutted out of the golems’ bulky shoulders. Kaedish’s heart swelled with national pride and a sense of security at the display. Squinting to get a more concerted look, he could see the vermillion glow of the airships’ heavy casters, which he knew very well, meant that they were online and ready for action.

If you look closely, you can see, the reporter continued from offscreen. The national defense wardens are forming perimeters around the pyramids at each of these sites all over the kingdom. Do not be alarmed, they are merely present for crowd-control and illumination purposes.

Now that’s what I want to do when I grow up! I want to join the ADF! I could be a belly-caster on a combat limmer! Kaedish exclaimed with bravado. "I’d swoop down on all our enemies with my casters blazing away! ‘Eat red mana, Lem! Kill! Kill!’"

Gods, you are such a scab! his sister chided out of one side of her mouth, her eyes still glued to the screen. I somehow don’t believe we’re truly related. Besides, if you want to ever join the Defense Forces, you’ll need to lay off the fritter pies and fried gram.

Whatever, her brother said with a defensive scowl while patting his budding belly. This is just elfling fat. By the time I’m your age, I’ll be one hundred percent gorilla-muscle and ready to kick some Lem tail.

Sure…if you say so. Quen’die could only roll her large, green almondine eyes to that. Sometimes the lad’s bloodthirsty streak worried her, but she figured it was just an early-adolescent phase. Either way, he could prove to be quite an embarrassment whenever he was around her friends. Once, she thought she heard Lauryl’la call him ‘Sergeant Scab’ under her breath.

Oh, dear sister, mark my words! I’ll be the scourge of the enemy’s battlefield! he proclaimed as he slapped his chest to celebrate a fictitious victory.

Fine. But until then, stop being such a little orc, she said, still not bothering to look at him or his ridiculous display of machismo.

Ah, but orcs are extinct, he chimed as if he were some grim professor.

Sometimes, she grumbled with a low, guilty resonance, I wish you were extinct.

***

Throughout the evening, the screen began to replay the same reports over and over and Kaedish had become bored with the lack of developments. From time to time, a local eyewitness would be interviewed lamenting over a destroyed orchard or a fallen glade. One fact all of the interviewees had in common was the sudden appearance of the hulks. As Dalian had reported, all had claimed the pyramids just materialized before their very eyes without any warning.

The dusk of evening melted into night and the young elves began to worry over their parents’ whereabouts. It was usual for them to drive home from work together and neither of the children had heard from them yet as they were becoming rather late.

Do you think we should call Mother and Father? Quen’die looked over to her brother whose eyes were harvesting concern as well.

I think their phones are in the shop getting re-cured, though, the young elf reminded her. His voice was beginning to shake with a sense of helplessness over this situation. They won’t have them back until tomorrow.

Well, let’s just wait for a while, and if they don’t get back soon, we should call our neighbors. It was the best advice she could muster save going out into the city and looking for them on foot.

After a short time of worry, the walls of the house sang in sudden chorus, "Welcome home, Lord and Lady Reyliss."

The two were a bit startled when the door opened as Mother and Father had arrived home from the laboratory. Both were rather frantic as they scanned the front room for their children. Mother was setting down some bags and Father was already taking off his overcloak.

Their mother and father both worked at the Circle of Climate and Environment. Although the name of the bureau sounded somewhat mundane, it was responsible for much more than the simple duties of testing water and soil samples. The Circle was spearheading the exploration, and ultimately, the colonization of the only known habitable planet other than Earth in the solar system. Father, himself was scheduled to make a landing up there in a year’s time and this fact made Quen’die and Kaedish something like minor celebrities at school.

Hey Kids! their father called from the house’s foyer. Is everyone all right?

Yeah, we’re right here, Quen’die answered for the both of them.

Thank the gods! I was so worried about you, Mother cut in while hanging up her light hoodcloak. The roads were a nightmare, and we couldn’t get the coach running until the power resurged at the manastation. I think we were caught in at least three gridlocks on the way home. We didn’t know if you got hurt in the quake or what else could have happened. She turned to her daughter, Quen’die, you really should have called us once your phone was flowing again.

But aren’t your phones in the shop? That’s what Kaedish said. Look, I’m sorry, she began to stammer to her parents. After the power came back, we had to watch the news to see what was going on and then Rylla called…

It’s all right, her father assured. "But we really wish you would have called at least while we were still at the lab. They have phones there too, you know. It would have made that drive home a lot easier for the both of us. You know how my nerves get when it comes to you guys. So… What’s the damage here?"

Quen’die hadn’t even thought about such stuff during the time they were still at work. Once the quake was over and the power was back in the flow, she was too preoccupied with what was happening on the news reports. After all, the quake knocked her off her feet, so it was reasonable that some of her parents’ valuables could have been smashed. Nor did the elfmaid consider her father. He too had been deeply affected by her little brother’s death and had proven to be a bit overprotective ever since Kellyn passed on. Every small sniffle or bruise was a national crisis when it involved her or her brother. Considering they were now undergoing an actual national crisis, Quen’die half-expected he would attempt to lock her in the house until further notice. Mother, on the other hand, was better able to move on and cope with all the daily problems, expected or otherwise. She was strong and Quen’die felt very grateful that she took after her in many ways.

Father! Kaedish jumped up and hollered in excitement. Did you see one? Did you get to see a pyramid?

No, we didn’t, his father laughed with a hint of nervousness. "Now, there is supposedly one in our area, but getting even within viewing distance is virtually impossible. In one direction you have military, reporters, and emergency coaches rushing toward it, and in the other direction, you have everyone else trying to scramble home to safety. The streets are an utter madhouse! A golem nearly stepped on the bonnet of our coach!

Seriously? Kaedish jumped again. Did an ADF golem almost smash our coach? That’s fantastic! I gotta tell Noopy at school! Kaedish had never been so excited as his eyes were locked into the size of wonderstruck green coconuts. Quen’die thought he looked like a small puppy. It took very little to rile him sometimes, especially if it had to do with destruction.

No, Mother said in disappointment to the young elf while giving her husband the evil eye; an expression the svelte lady had mastered throughout her years of marriage to him. Your father is just letting his incredible imagination run wild - as always.

Lord Reyliss scanned the living room for any damage. A cold wave of fear hit him as he remembered the wine collection in the basement. A quake such as that night’s could have very well shaken some valuable vintages onto the floor. Without another word, he rushed down the stairs to assess any losses. It was an assured mess, just as he had dreaded. He arrived there to find puddles of red, blue, and green liquid swirled together amidst broken glass pooling underneath the diamond-shaped racks.

Glynna! Father hollered up from the basement in a childlike frenzy. My wines are smashed! Well, most of them.

Mother met him downstairs to see him cradling a half-broken green bottle. He looked like a young elfling who had just destroyed his favorite toy, which she still found a bit endearing despite his obvious anguish. His curly wisps were falling over one of his eyes and she thought they looked much like her son’s, however, they were of a chestnut-brown and thinning a bit. This was going to be quite a night and she fretted about it causing yet another argument with her husband. Such a display of personal loss triggered her sense of her own inventory and, in that moment, she began to worry about her ancient pottery collection which she had been accruing ever since the days of her Master’s levels.

Oh, Ferd’inn, be careful with that, Mother advised with a mixture of annoyance and weak affection. You’ll seriously cut yourself and it’ll take forever for a health warden to get over here tonight.

Yeah, but this vintage is over nine hundred years old! he moaned as he dropped the shards in defeat. Well, at least none of the wines bottled in bone or wood were destroyed. I suppose I’ll have to talk to the insurance warden tomorrow. Eh, maybe my accountant as well.

Best of luck with that one, Mother responded in a practical tone she would assume whenever Father was flustered. Tomorrow, all of Atlantis will be on the phone with their insurance wardens. The call volume will probably cause another outage! Look on the bright side, few of the really expensive vintages were broken.

I suppose you’re right, but I really wanted to save this Xochian bottle for Summersfest. It’s infused with chocolate! I’ve never tasted chocolate! he whined.

I’ll tell you what, Mother tended to feel a bit burdened by her husband’s concerns sometimes, and all the more if they were frivolous, like chocolate. Maybe we can just save up and spend Summersfest in Xo’chi this season while the children are on break, and then you can try all the chocolate you can get your hands on.

Just as long as they don’t have any earthquakes, Father chuckled.

Very well. It’s a deal, Mother reassured as Father looked up at her like a wounded puppy and smiled. No earthquakes.

All right, Glynna met her husband’s smirk. I’ll round up the kids and we’ll have to get everything straightened out here. If you think you’re heartbroken over the wines, wait till you hear me scream when I find out my Kumarian vase is in a million shards. The thing is ancient!

The young elves’ parents gathered everyone for an ad hoc damage control meeting and, with some mild protest from Kaedish, who was satisfied enough that none of the screens were busted, everybody set off on their allotted assignments. After noting that the quake had been rather forgiving to their property, Mother went to check the second floor. Within a few short moments, Lady Reyliss’ children and husband heard a terror-stricken shriek from above.

Lord Reyliss and his two children rushed upstairs to find Mother in the master bedroom standing amidst shards upon shards of shattered vases, amphorae, vessels, and other assorted crockery. Ancient relics from all over the world lay at her feet. From Thuless’in to Xo’chi and Avalon, from Gonduanna to Tel’lemuria, these articles of history and culture were all but destroyed. She held with ginger care in each of her well-manicured hands the jagged remnants of a two-thousand-year-old Kumarian vase; just as she had predicted. Every single piece in her collection had fallen off the shelves into a multicolored horde of junk. A spiraling shock of her blood-red hair swayed across her angular, pouting face as one of her eyebrows arched to a painful height while the other almost touched the bridge of her nose. This was Mother’s evil eye, but the ultimate version, which she saved for only the direst of travesties. She was one broken relic away from the verge of tears. Despite her tragic circumstances, Father thought she looked more beautiful than ever.

Ferd’inn…, Mother managed to blurt in a calm moan while trying to stifle a raging fit and cursing the gods. About those insurance wardens…

Aftershock

Although the news reporter was correct, there was very little damage and many people were spared from serious harm upon the appearance of the mysterious monoliths, some citizens throughout the kingdoms of Atlantis were not so lucky. Whenever a momentous occurrence such as that happens, accidents ensue and things can go awry. Some calamitous and strange events of note transpired as follows:

Consolidated Power and Light provided energy to Atlantis’s capital city and its surrounding area. It was the power wardens’ jobs to regulate and monitor the manaflow from all of Corosa’s manasprings which were the primary source of power to each individual household in the city. On’dinn Bor’lann and Zev Mark’ann were two such wardens.

The two elves had worked together on the second shift for close to five years. On’dinn was quite a bit older than Zev and carried more experience when it came to the job of regulating the flow to almost one million manafountains across the huge power district. Zev, on the other hand, had graduated not long before from his Master’s levels and this was his first job of any sort, in truth.

Unlike old On’dinn, the young elf came from a long line of power wardens and he felt a sense of entitlement as a third-generation technician at the facility. Even his father worked in the upper offices. On’dinn resented his younger contemporary because it took almost ten years for him to promote to the same position Zev had managed to obtain after one quick interview. The old elf had tried to come to terms that elven society was not always fair and nepotism was wont to win out in the end.

The pyramids appeared at precisely 4:42 p.m. that fateful evening. At that moment, Zev was flirting with a new quality assurance manager who was also not very interested in her position. At times like that, On’dinn’s chagrin with the young elf reached its peak. He wasn’t jealous of the male’s youth or the attentions from the maiden, those kinds of concerns were a thing of the past at his age; he was more annoyed that his partner was taking advantage of his father’s clout to lillypad about when there was so much to be done. Regulation of the giant turbines which tumbled mana from the central springs and directed it to thousands of homes and businesses was not an easy task and it required much vigilance and responsibility. These were two attributes Zev lacked.

As Zev was attempting to impress the QA manager with some kind of foolish card trick, the quake’s kinetic force struck the outer perimeter of the facility. Warning klaxons powered with dumb mana to assure operation even when cut from the flow screamed in a loud panic as the main lights of the station began to flicker on and off. The quality assurance manager, who was not very assuring in her quality at that time, threw the hot tea she was drinking in Zev’s face due to the concussive bumps of the tremor. Not only was the lad’s card trick ruined, his skin was scalded. Fifty-two playing cards of the finest craftsmanship flew hither and yon all over the catwalks of the turbine room as Zev recoiled in pain.

On’dinn was furious. He was at the controls of the central turbine nearby trying in desperation to keep the power flowing to the main conduit and into the entirety of the energy grid. He couldn’t do it alone as he needed his partner to helm the control gate in order to meter the flow of the chaotic, surging mana into a steady and ordered stream. The old elf’s cries to his younger partner were unheard over the din of the sirens and the commotion on the floor. Zev was bellowing in pain at that instant as well while he nursed the angry red burn on his face. By the time the young warden was no longer concerned with his poor, blemished mug, it was too late.

The control panel was becoming much too hot to touch, but On’dinn knew he had to keep clutching to his station to forefend disaster. His hollers to his partner turned to screams as the power level was approaching a critical mass. His head was swimming and he knew he was already suffering manaburns which would, without a doubt, render him crippled for the rest of his life. To the dismay of his loved ones and family, that life ended in the next minute as his body became part of the manaflow. The elder power warden ordered the flow for an emergency, and deadly, reroute. "Gatin’inn boru Ui mana!" he screeched to the turbine through gritted teeth.

Excess mana hopped through On’dinn’s console and circuited itself though his arms, his body, and back into the grid. On’dinn sacrificed himself to avert a meltdown which could have blown one half of Corosa into the sky and the other half into the bowels of the earth. The station’s foreman employed emergency measures to shut the whole power plant down with a killswitch just in time as the stalwart old elf performed his final duty which was well above his job description.

After some official reprimands and string-pulling, Zev was not fired from the station due to his irresponsibility and continued to work at Consolidated Power and Light in the upper offices where his father could keep a better eye on him. With a handsome pay raise.

***

Gun’dun Skodd moved away, rather fled, from his native kingdom of Thuless’in when he was just an elfling. He hailed from a family of farmers who relocated to Atlantis during a period of extreme civil strife when King Ron’dagg IV ruled with an oppressive fist. The tyrant was given the moniker the Good, much to the irony of the citizens. That particular regent was anything but, and it was speculated that his own court gave him this nickname out of their mortal fear of him. Thousands of elves had been killed by the horrors of starvation or executed for some minor offense. Thousands more had just disappeared. When Gun’dun’s father received an agricultural reclamation notice in his mail one day, he knew his whole family was on the chopping block for either some trivial bureaucratic reason or a pitiful and fateful filing error.

After fleeing the ludicrous rule of King Ron’dagg, the Skodds were welcomed into the fair (by relative comparison) and democratic society of Atlantis and it wasn’t long before the elder Skodd could establish his farm once again on their foreign shores. Since the majority of Atlanteans were vegetarians, the farm specialized in the cultivation of vegetables, herbs, and a variety of fruit orchards. They even hosted a mushroom farm in a small network of underground tunnels. One particular livestock his family continued to raise was the dire wolf. All Thuless’in farmers took great pride in wolf breeding and the Skodds were not about to let this tradition slide, despite their alien surroundings.

Years later, Gun’dun inherited the farm and he was known throughout the region as one of Atlantis’s top dire wolf wranglers. These gallant beasts were over five feet long from snout to rump and were perfect for security, hauling, and defense purposes. The Skodd farm became so famous for their stock that they soon supplied Corosa’s civil wardens with all of the wolves which were used in their lupine division.

On that remarkable late afternoon when the pyramids arrived, Gun’dun was taking one of his clutches of wolves out to the far pasture of his land. All morning, the beasts were agitated and seemed to be a bit spooked by lunchtime. The herder couldn’t figure out what the problem could have been and all of his ranch hands agreed that his stock was behaving rather fidgety. The weather reports told of no storms and after two perimeter searches, no intruders could be found. Gun’dun knew that dire wolves were, by inherent nature, keen when it came to detecting danger; natural or otherwise. Considering all the wolves were acting more like sheep, and not just an isolated beast or two, he had become very concerned himself.

The pasture was wide and could accommodate the monstrous beasts’ exercise with ease. With much reluctance, the wolves trotted out with the ranch hands; many of them were whimpering as if they had just been whipped. One particular wolf tried to turn back in horrified desperation from the direction of the pasture and nipped a ranch hand who tried to arrest him. Even a slight nibble from a dire wolf required fair medical attention and Gun’dun’s employee had to soak his fingers in manasalve for the majority of a week after the attack.

As the animals were led through the corral, the ranchers set back and observed the sprawling pasture. The wolves were not moving, nor were they responding to any calls or whistles. The entire clutch faced one direction and pointed their bulky maws toward the sky. It was almost as if they were stuck in some flat loop, like a computer glitch. In unison, the dire wolves let out a howl that was so strange in that it was harmonious and consistent. Within seconds, it was cut short without crescendo.

The flat land of the green pasture on that fine, late-spring day and the husky grey wolves that dotted it were replaced in a split instant by a giant pyramidal shape that swirled with color, almost as if from chrome, but the tones and hues eddied from the inside of its surface rather than on it. Gun’dun ran out of a nearby shed and into its immense shadow. It took him shocked minutes to figure out that his expanse was no longer a field, but a site. As his ears began to experience a burning sensation, he fell to his knees and fainted.

Later that evening, he awoke from his stupor in a medic’s tent of the Atlantean Defense Forces. He was met with a barrage of questions that he couldn’t quite answer as he had forgotten in that moment how to speak any language other than his native tongue. Within minutes, he fell back asleep.

***

Glam’ryn How’dann was dozing off in her bed in the Corosa Community Hospice. Her children had committed her to this facility after learning that she was suffering from a rare degenerative disease which affected her entire body. They did anything they could for her, but their caretaking abilities and knowledge of this condition just couldn’t compete with its strong and rather strange effects.

The elder lady would lapse from time to time into confused states where she could no longer remember who she was or where she was going. Sometimes, she was under the impression that she was one hundred years younger than her true age and would attempt physical acts that could break her brittle bones. In one incident, at one of her grandsons’ birthday parties, she had attempted to join a pickup-game of runta while she was still wearing her old bedgown. When everyone present had tried to stop her and speak some sense, she became agitated with frustration and angered because nobody would let her play.

As the disease began to run its course stronger than ever, some of the autonomic processes of her body began to fail as her poor, confused brain could no longer send the proper messages to their respective systems. Sometimes she couldn’t breathe because her lungs forgot to bellow. The most embarrassing symptom was that her digestive tract would not work very well and this caused a rather frightful mess for those who had cared for her.

It was in this hospice she rested on the momentous day of the puzzling objects’ arrival. She was watching the tray of food set before her with a bit of wonder. The venerable lady was having a difficult time remembering if she had already eaten, and noted that she must have done so because she didn’t feel a bit hungry. She wanted to go outside and play with her friends instead, imaginary as they may have been, but her weak and frail body prevented this. This was a terrible disappointment to her and she began to cry in frustration.

When the lights throughout the facility began to flicker on and off, she found herself very short of breath and a sudden wave of fear hit her. Out in the hallways, doctors, nurses, and all manner of health wardens were milling about in a state of frenzy. Their shouts and hollers were making her nervous. The big machine that would hum with a steady rhythm day and night next to her bed ceased its whispering, minimal tune.

Medical instruments of all kinds were falling off their shelves and trolleys as the quake rumbled through the guts of Corosa. The hospice’s staff was in a panic as they attempted to stabilize monitors, salve pumps and the equipment on which they relied to keep the residents of the facility alive through their final days. From under the relentless manascream, "Code White! Code White!" cried for attention. During the tumult, Glam’ryn’s terror and confusion was replaced by a sudden, general sense of well-being. The door to her ward opened as a very tall doctor strolled in with a gentle stride. He made quite the contrast against the frazzled faculty who were still shouting orders to each other in a rather futile attempt to maintain order in the rumble.

He was golden; white-gold, as she saw it. This doctor seemed to be cast from the shimmering element. Glam’ryn wondered if he were perhaps a sun or a high elf, but he wasn’t just of a tan or dusky complexion; his skin emitted a glow. Unlike any of the other doctors in the ward who would strut in an elite fashion with their long tresses and braids, he was bald without a stubble and looked like one of the steadfast statues installed on the Royal Promenade come to life. Glam’ryn had been dreaming about him on and off again with increasing frequency. This had to be him. He peered down with gentle grace over her as her life monitors screamed a warning of total failure.

A good day to you, Glam’ryn, the doctor intoned in the kindest of voices. I can see you are already feeling much better.

This wonderful being’s voice was musical like the mana itself. The tone was steady and calm; however it was not ghostly like all the mana-fed objects and devices that had served her throughout her whole life. His song matched the beauty of the face and the form. The elder lady felt so lucid for the first time in years, yet could not pin her current surroundings, and her ears were no longer getting hot.

Hello, doctor. It really is a beautiful day, she said as an entire cabinet toppled face down on the floor nearby with a crash she could not, or perhaps cared not, to hear.

I have great news! You are to be discharged immediately, he informed his patient as he took her hand. Although his grip looked firm, she could not feel it with any true physical force.

Yes, she agreed. I really want to leave now. Where will we be going? Are we going to Mars? She felt like a six-year-old on Wintersfest morning again.

No. We aren’t going to Mars. That world is not for you, his voice continued to sing to her with a musical gleam.

But we can go there now! It’s all over the news! she protested in a voice which was that of a little elfmaid.

We will go to a much more incredible place, the doctor began. All of your friends are there and they want to see you again.

Yes! she cried with happy brightness. We’re going to a party! I love parties and all my friends will be there!

Sure, the doctor smiled with a bit of condensation. This was an aspect of his lot that caused him problems. His wards could never seem to grasp the great journey ahead of them. Are you ready to leave?

The arthritic cramp that had turned her hands into painful stone over the years felt pliant and strong again in the doctor’s grasp. She raised herself from the dirty bed and felt like a miracle patient who regained their youth in an instant by drinking an elixir featured in one of those old snakeoil cartoons she would watch when she was but a little maiden. Around them, the emergency sirens and alarms, now powered only by dumb mana, continued to blare over the hollers of the confused denizens of the hospice. None of this mattered to Glam’ryn anymore because she was going to a wonderful party away from the filth and pain of that terrible place.

Yes, I have everything! she exclaimed with youthful glee as she stood beside the gilded doctor in her soiled bedgown. Let’s get out of here and have some fun!

And to that party they went…

***

For many, the day of the arrival was the cause of anything from woe to mere annoyance, but it was a day that would affect all of elfdom, of that, there was no doubt. Coach crashes, unfortunate accidents, destroyed heirlooms and ruined dinners occurred all over the great kingdom that afternoon. From the center of Corosa to the northern coastal metropolis of Caidhul, some form of mayhem or loss consumed the lives of the fine elves of Atlantis. Not a corner of the nation was untouched by this affair and its resulting tremors as not one of its citizens was ignorant of the event. That was, all the elves of Atlantis with the exception of Nod’renn Noddy Buchlaa.

This foolish young elf was unconscious during the whole incident as he attempted to make himself faint on a dare dealt by one of his reckless buddies at his University dorm. Amidst the cheers and prodding of his dorm mates, he squatted against a wall while taking numerous deep breaths before jumping back up as quick as a fox. "Go! Go! Go! Go!" they cheered him on in unison. Upon hopping up, he lost all consciousness in a single instant and fell face-forward onto the hard floor of the austere