Elven Roses

By Brandon Hill

Aldrec was an elf who was mystery to all but himself. Keeping others at arm’s length, he lived each day staving off madness from his impossibly long and somewhat reclusive life. Mericlou was an Alerian model: an obsolete brand of android from a bygone era, lost in the monotony of the daily grind and her eccentric ‘family.’ Their friendship, born of serendipity, healed their lonely souls. Later, love entwined their lonely hearts...and nearly rekindled a shameful war.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rogue Phoenix Press
• Release date: Sep 9, 2013
• ISBN: 9781624200199

Brandon Hill

Brandon Hill is a native of Louisiana and an avid and frequent reader of science fiction and fantasy, who began writing in the eleventh grade. Of himself, he says, "I am a 'classic nerd' and prolific writer who has had dreams of authorship since childhood. I sketch perhaps even more prolifically than I write, and have drawings of just about every character my warped imagination has come up with. I hope to continue sharing these ideas, characters, and stories with others for years to come.

Book preview

Elven Roses

Brandon Hill

Published by Rogue Phoenix Press at Smashwords

Copyright © 2013

ISBN: 978-1-62420-019-9

Electronic rights reserved by Rogue Phoenix Press, all other rights reserved by the author. The reproduction or other use of any part of this publication without the prior written consent of the rights holder is an infringement of the copyright law. This is a work of fiction. People and locations, even those with real names, have been fictionalized for the purposes of this story.

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Prologue

So, we are the last, the mother said.

I don't want to leave! The son replied, insistent as he ever was, even before the armies marched on their last stronghold, and the gate closed for them...even after the kindly dragon had ferried them to this appointed place. He had never relented in his resolve, even here, a thousand miles away, where the gate would reopen. I won't leave.

They may kill you if you stay, the father replied. He passed the image in front of the son's eyes for him to see: an image of their once splendorous city, spires of crystal, platinum, and stone, grown and shaped by their souls, now crumbling in a planned self-destruction, devolving into ashes without the sustaining magic of their presence.

Why do you cry, Father? You said that we deserve this.

The father gazed at his son with a look that was one part incredulity, one part grief. Whether we deserve it or not, we are losing everything we ever knew. And I will be losing a son today, for I know not how long! Will a man not cry for that?

Don't cry for him, the sage advised. The Council has promised and given its last prophecy in him. He will return to us.

All attention fell upon the sage, but eyes gazed afar off, as if seeing something that no one else could.

My friends are here, the son said, in defiance that bordered on insolence. I've not even experienced a fraction of this world; I've made friends with the younger races. They would protect me; I can make myself look like them. And their magic is no match for mine. Even the dragons have made special exception for me. What have I to fear?

Your return shall not be on peril of your life, young one, the sage replied, serene in the face of youthful fire. You know this.

They are coming, said the dragon who had ferried them to the appointed place. The dwarves' machines do not tire, and they run as dragons fly. They have found us.

The gate will open shortly. The father touched the ground. Like leafless trees, five obelisks rose from the forest floor: rune-covered stone menhirs the height of a house, forming a circle in the clearing, lit dimly by ambient moonlight.

Love, the Council said! The son spat, as if the word were some vile aberration. That makes less than no sense. I love all the younger races. And you will be the last to leave, as all the others have. There will be none of my kind left. Whom will I love?

One whom you will show your true self to. The sage repeated the Council's words as the mother hastily guided them all to the circle. One whom you will love more than your own life…and with whom you will promise to share that life.

The son heard the clanking of inhuman feet that had terrified his people so often in the days of war. He felt the air become hot as the dragon's fiery breath eliminated the phalanx of approaching dwarven automatons: creations of wood and stone, spindly, quick, and deadly, bristling with enchanted weapons as prominent as porcupine's spines. Their swords and arrows, with spells not meant for dragons, bounced harmlessly off the massive wyrm's emerald hide. They came in row after row over the hill, altering their shapes to many deadly forms, but all futile in the face of the dragon's titanic strength. Each wave rushed forward then fell in pieces and splinters to massive jaws, iron claws, sweeps of treelike tail, and flaming jets of fire that lit up the enshrouding night.

Whom can I share my life with that shares the same lifespan as I? the son asked. There were none who could possibly share his life; even the common elves, lengthy as their lives were, were ephemeral. This world held mysteries uncountable yet, and he wanted to experience it all, not trade it for flight to another world that housed only his kind. What world would the younger races now build? He wanted to do more than just watch from the veil between worlds, bound by oaths to never again interfere. If love for another would draw him away from all this, then he swore in his heart that he would never love.

I only tell you what I see, young one… the sage replied, "what the Council has seen." Behind him, the gateway opened, its luminosity obscuring even that of their own bodies. The door of light would lead to the world that all of their kind had departed to. Now, they were the last.

The sounds of battle had gone quiet. The son paused and saw the dragon approach, its massive form silhouetted against scattered flames and the shattered and charred remains of dwarven monstrosities. The force was small, but their weapons were enchanted to kill you, he said, coming to the mother's side.

You have done well, friend, the mother said, running her hand in gratitude along the dragon's iron-like, spiral-shaped horns. Will you now protect our son, as you promised?

I will, my lady, the dragon replied, and nodded his head with a deep rumble.

The mother then caressed her son's cheek, the tears in her eyes reflecting the ambient light, making the look of heartbreak on her almost hard enough to make him change his mind. Come with us, she whispered, her voice straining with desperate entreaty. Please!

I can't. The son's smile was sorrowful, and just as longing as his mother's. How many times had she begged him, pleaded with him to leave with them? And how many times had he steadily, adamantly, refused? Why did she have to now make him regret what he had resigned in his heart to do? Had the sage not confirmed it? But of course, prophecy or not, she was his mother. And she would hope, to the very end, that he would change his mind. And he would have to disappoint her, even at the end.

We may never see you again.

You may, the son said, if what the Council said was true.

But you don't want it to be.

I love this world, the son replied. The shake of his head was faint, but distinct enough to be resolute.

The mother kissed his forehead then pressed a seed into his palm. The son stood agape at the gift: a sacred seed, something for which he had not yet come of age, and thought he would never receive.

You will at least have a home, safe from prying eyes, the mother advised. Plant the seed; the magic will do the rest.

I will, mother.

This is your last chance, the father said, coming to the mother's side.

I made my decision, the son answered, as resolute as ever.

The father sighed, seeming to have become very old with sorrow. And then he reached out and embraced his son. Divine be with you then.

Divine be with you, father, the son replied, unable to keep a steady voice, despite his resolve.

Keep him safe until his tree is fully grown, the father said to the dragon.

As I have promised the maiden, I promise to the lord, the dragon said. Your son will come to no harm and will be protected until his home is established.

Then we can hope for nothing more, the mother said as the father took her hand. The son and the dragon watched them both as the light of the gateway engulfed them like a pool of vertical water, and they disappeared into the light.

"You will find the one whom you love more than life itself, the sage said. And then the gate will open for you."

But who will it be? the son asked, but in vain, as the sage only smiled then vanished with the mother and father into the brilliance of the gate, which faded afterwards into the blackness of the night.

Now I am the last, he said.

Chapter One

An Unexpected Meeting

I guess even elves have bad days, a woman in floral dancing attire muttered to her boyfriend as they passed the elf. There was an odd, very un-elfish combination of features to him: a sort of hardiness and lankiness about his figure in addition to his unusual human-like height, and his chin was more squared than pointed. His eyes were gentle looking and deep blue, and his straight, wispy pale blond hair just brushed the top of his shoulders. He wore a sleeveless, high-collared, white outer tunic trimmed with gold and silver, exposing the long, light blue sleeves of his under tunic. The outer tunic was bound at the waist by a golden sash he wore above blue pants and simple brown leather shoes.

Plodding absently through the marketplace, the elf ignored the curious stares and subdued whispers of humans and elves. Likewise, he gave no less regard to the finger pointing of androids, so much like their former masters, save their exotic hair and eye colors, and near paper-white skin. He leaned against one of the giant marble pillars that supported the marketplace dome and gazed listlessly at the shoppers and passersby. They were the usual array of people: residents of Lusea, merchants from the Republic and Daina, and tourists and entertainers from all five nations, haggling over the prices of necessities, trifles, and trinkets. The sameness of it all had become agony to him, the same activities, each day as the one before...with predictable chaos in between, century upon century, the same in the Republic, and all the Five Nations since time immemorial.

I used to enjoy it, and now I grieve it. I'm so terribly old. I have seen it all.

On this midsummer's day, there were no clouds marring the azure blue sky above the elven city of Lusea. A gentle, warm breeze blew through rustling treetops while colorful flocks of exotic birds flew high overhead. It was one of those especially lovely days when the golden sunlight sprinkled through the leaves of the swaying trees and glinted off of the platinum spires and stained glass of the downtown buildings. Like soundless music, it cast gorgeous, shifting rainbows of light upon the busy streets, bathing the city in its full splendor and making it even more odd that of all the city's residents, an elf would display such a conspicuous melancholy.

The elf pushed himself away from the pillar and resumed his blind walk through the crowds in the market, oblivious to the passage of time, the insipid noises of commerce, and the smells of various dishes that failed to stimulate.

He removed an apple from his hip satchel. Though not at all hungry, he needed something to nurse, something that would numb his accosting sadness. He took a bite, but his dismal mood robbed the red fruit of its savor, one tasteless bite after another. In the end, he held the core level with his eyes.

Like so often before, he felt like that core: alone, exposed, empty.

Hey! My purse! Stop! Thief!

A feminine shriek rang out from the din of shoppers, snapping the elf's awareness instantly back to the present. He detected the telltale electronic resonance of an android in that voice, and sight targeted its source: the open-air flower shop immediately to his right, at the absolute perfect moment. Caught within his field of vision were both thief and victim.

The thief that bolted out of the flower shop, blue leather purse in hand, was a human boy. Possibly a teenager, he had mousy brown hair, and was dressed in inconspicuous grey.

This was all that the elf needed to know to begin his spell.

The android that dropped her bouquet and gave chase was slightly taller than the human, with attractive ringlets of green hair, whose color seemed even more prominent against her near paper-white skin. She wore a short-sleeved blue denim jacket, cut open at the shoulders, over a form-fitting blouse that overlapped the waistline of a loose, black skirt. Her speed was incredible, despite the bedlam she caused as she shoved through the crowd and sent some people flying, but she was no match for the stealthiness of the robber, who seemed to have planned his escape route. The boy wove effortlessly through the marketplace while the android struggled to catch up.

The elf smiled, a wave of compassion at last overriding his oppressive sadness. It was strange how sudden events could change one's mood.

~ * ~

Nalsa district, across the river, Number 4 Windhill Apartments.

The elf repeated the address to himself as he pushed his way through the crowds. In human cities it was unusual for a something as petty as purse-snatching to be the subject of intense gossip amongst the marketplace goers, but elven cities like Lusea were known for their tranquility and near-nonexistent crime. The owner of the flower shop, an elf maiden who knew him, had given him the android's address from her records after his promise to deliver the flowers she had dropped, and he had magically stored them for safekeeping. Her home was not far away. Yet he hoped that he could find her first and offer his help.

He was in luck, it seemed, as he became aware of her crying above the ambient noise of the thinning crowds as he reached the marketplace edge. Her electronic voice was very distinctive, and her cries were both plaintive and miserable.

The elf pressed on through the final throngs of shoppers and followed the sound at last to a lone figure sitting on the steps of a shop just beyond the pillars of the marketplace atrium. Her face was buried in her hands.

He came to her side and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. Slowly, she lifted her head.

By the Divine…! the elf gasped, eyes widening at the sight of her.

She was beautiful!

Though her amber-colored doe eyes were bloodshot and red, her tear-streaked face was, like all androids, devoid of any physical blemish. If it could be said to be an imperfection, there was only a tiny mole set below and to the right of her deep-bronze-red lips. A black leather choker was clasped around her neck, from which hung a gold-encrusted amethyst. Androids were a common sight, and female types, even more so, but it was as if, at the sight of this particular android, he had never truly noticed them before. For a second, he simply stared, his voice caught in his throat at her beauty that, for lack of a better word, could only be described as perfect.

The elf fumbled with his hip satchel for a handkerchief, which he offered to the android. The android hiccupped another couple of suppressed sobs as she stared curiously at him then at his gift. With only the faintest of smiles, she accepted it. The pale, near-alabaster tone of her skin made her fingers seem as delicate as a china doll's.

I saw what happened, the elf said, finally finding his tongue. He knelt beside the android as she used the handkerchief to dab at her eyes. Are you okay?

The android shook her head, and a couple more tears streamed down her stained cheeks.

"No…I…I think I'm really, really far from okay, she croaked. That little punk… My entire life was in that purse! My ether link, my makeup, my ID cards…"

Her last few words became garbled as she grimaced and broke again into a torrent of cries and wails. She buried her face in the handkerchief, and before long, had soaked it through with her tears.

It's…the perfect end…to a perfect day! She came up for air, only to cover her face again and resume her crying fit.

Alarmed, yet hesitant, the elf placed his arm around her shoulder, and to his surprise, she readily accepted him. The android leaned into his breast, and coughed out a few more ragged sobs, too exhausted to cry anymore.

Th-thank you, she quavered, having composed herself and looking more than a little embarrassed at having emptied her sorrow into the bosom of a complete stranger. I'm not usually like this, really. It's just that…well, today's just gone all to hell, if you know what I mean? She followed her statement with a loud, wet sniffle.

Oh, I can guess, the elf said, recalling, in spite of himself, his mood before seeing her chase after that purse-snatcher. He gave her a reassuring smile. Besides, I've had something of a bad day myself.

"Have you ever had your purse stolen?" The android asked, as though nothing could have possibly been worse than what had happened to her.

At this, the elf stifled a potentially regrettable laugh. No, but then again, how many men, human or otherwise, do you see with a purse?

The android let out a slight guffaw, and smiled.

"Aha, so you can laugh! the elf said. I was beginning to wonder if your sense of humor had been taken as well. But seriously, if I did have a purse—heaven forbid—I know that it isn't exactly the best thing to wear in the city, even in Lusea. It's too easy to steal: bands snap; there's nothing to hold on to. I've seen it before."

I guess I learned it the hard way, huh? the android said grimly. She bent over, cradling her forehead in her hands. Boy, was I stupid, or what?

Look, don't talk like that. The elf shook his head resolutely. "You're not stupid. You just made a mistake, is all. Besides, that kid was the one to blame. He was the one who stole your purse. Hey, that reminds me…"

He removed his hip satchel from his belt and unzipped it. Here, he said, you can have this.

Oh, no! the android said, pushing it away the moment he presented it. I couldn't possibly-

No, I insist, the elf said, pushing it back her way. Besides, it's full of stuff that I don't really need. Go ahead. Take a look inside.

She wiped the stray tears from her face and eyed him suspiciously, but the elf's reassuring smile was mysteriously disarming. She reached inside.

The moment she removed the first item, her expression changed dramatically. Eyes red and sore, slowly widened in utter disbelief. Her mouth, once plastered in a miserable frown hung wide open in a very vocal gasp as she removed a small, flat, rectangular device from the satchel. There was a tiny, clear orb at one end.

Oh, my god! She exclaimed, turning the device around in her hand, eyes widening to near inhuman proportions, as the elf watched on amusedly. Oh my god! It's my ether link!

She placed the device down beside her then tore into the satchel, removing a makeup compact, various unidentifiable odds and ends, wallet, multiple lists on paper, and what seemed like twenty or more pens, pencils, and loose coins.

My god! The android ran a calculating hand through the objects that now lay between them. By the maker, it's all here! Everything! She beamed at Aldrec. How…how did you...?

Even males have some secrets to keep, the elf said with a playful wag of his finger. But I'm glad that I could at least be of some—

Before he could finish, he was nearly knocked backwards onto the porch as the android launched herself into his arms. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Thank you, she whispered. You don't know how much this means to me, you really don't. The last few words of her sentence came out in a broken whisper as once again, she coughed out great sobs into his tunic, tears seeping through the fabric. And through the timbre of her cries, the elf realized they were not tears of joy. Gently, he pried himself from the android's grip and handed her another clean handkerchief.

I'm sorry, she said between loud and wet sniffles. It's just that…well, you already know I've had a horrible day today. My purse getting stolen was just the last straw. You really have no idea how bad it's been.

Well, like I said, I've had a bad day too, the elf reminded her, so I think I can understand a little bit.

The elf snapped his fingers as inspiration hit then sprang to his feet. I have an idea. Just the thing to make both of us feel better, I think. He leaned forward and took the android by her hand. Come with me!

Where are we going?

To the gardens. They have the best cider there. Magically brewed, it's guaranteed to take a bad day go away. How about it?

I…can't afford that, she protested weakly.

"And who said that you had to pay for it? the elf gave an amused grin as he helped put the android's personal belongings back into the satchel. It'll be my treat. Oh, by the way, I haven't introduced myself, have I? I'm Aldrecliis."

Al..dre...clees? The android stammered over the unusual sounding name. All…drah…cleese?

He did not want to embarrass her, but the way the android fumbled with his name even more so than other humans, brought up a laugh that almost hurt to suppress. "It's pronounced All-druh-cleess, he said, at last taking pity on her. Unintentionally, he released a small grunt of laughter that sounded embarrassingly like a snort. But just call me Aldrec; it's much easier to say."

Oh, thank you, the android said with relief That's much better. And my name is Mericlou.

Chapter Two

A Life Less Fortunate

Lusea's year-round pleasant climate and atmosphere was a frequent lure for residents of nearby towns and villages. But in summertime, Lusea was the place in the Republic to be. There were carnivals and bustling crowds by day and quiet, lazy nights filled with fireflies, hundreds of open-air restaurants, and romantic boat rides through the heart of the city in the peaceful waters of the Selisna River. The cider house on the riverbank where Aldrec brought Mericlou gave a view of this aspect of Lusea in all its lively glory. For the first time in a long time, Aldrec was truly happy. His misery was finally, blessedly gone, and he was at last able to enjoy the scenery of the gardens: the marble pavilions dotting the shores of the river, the walkways lined with rows of trees and hedges in full multicolored bloom, the large meadow on the opposite shore in the distance…and Mericlou's uniquely beautiful face in front of him.

Feel better now?" Aldrec asked.

"Oh yes, very much so!" Mericlou heaved a contented sigh and put down her empty glass.

Sorry about earlier, Aldrec said. I really did forget that you needed less food than humans and elves.

I said don't worry about it. Mericlou waved dismissively. But I think you scared the life out of that poor waiter. That was actually kind of funny.

Embarrassing is more like it, Aldrec said, turning a shade redder at the memory of his indignation, and how Mericlou had to defuse the situation. I'll give him a suitable tip for his troubles.

He should appreciate that, Mericlou said, daintily fingering the edge of the crystal glass, Wow, you weren't kidding. That stuff's really good! In fact, I think that as good as it is for the power cells, it must be just as good for the heart!

I can't argue with you there, Aldrec said, pleased at how happy Mericlou now seemed.

Still, it's really rare to meet someone who doesn't know much about androids, Mericlou said. I thought our food requirements were common knowledge.

Well, I've lived in the area for most of my life. Lusea isn't like Nibra or Sakar; there aren't many androids who live here, at last not since the war, and so I never had much of a reason to learn more about your people.

Merilclou nodded. I guess that makes sense. I mean, we've only been around for the blink of an eye, compared to how old the world is, and we've only been recently recognized as a race. There would still be some who don't know a lot about us.

I'd always intended to find out, Aldrec said, now genuinely intrigued. He had never guessed that androids could wax philosophical, like Mericlou had just done. He found her very surprising, and as charming as she was beautiful.

Aldrec?

Hmm?

Why didn't you answer me?

Oh, sorry. Aldrec realized at that moment that he had been daydreaming. I was in my own little world for a moment.

Well, I need a break from this world myself, Mericlou leaned forward, resting her face atop her folded hands, and flashed Aldrec a wry smile. Can you take me to yours? The odd resonance of her artificial voice turned the sound of her small, playful giggle almost musical.

Maybe one day, Aldrec played back with a grin of his own. But what was it you asked?

I asked about what you did. What's your job?

Oh, that. I'm a historian, I guess you could say.

Really? Mericlou's eyes flashed with sudden and intense interest. What kind of history?

Um...general history, Aldrec said, slightly amused but encouraged by her reaction. The whole round of it, actually. You ought to see my library.

"Books? Mericlou breathed. You have real, honest-to-God printed books?"

Well, of course I have printed books! Aldrec laughed at her enthusiasm. Doesn't everybody? You sound like you've never owned one before.

Mericlou shook her head. I haven't.

Are you serious? Aldrec asked half in disbelief. "How could anyone have never owned