Gate Born

By Villi Archer

An elf walks through a dragon-made magical gate that transforms him physically and mentally. He survives betrayal, imprisonment and war. Even when he strives to live a normal life, his past deeds find him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Villi Archer
• Release date: Dec 21, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463552735

Book preview

Gate Born

by Villi Archer

Published by Villi Archer

Smashwords edition

Copyright 2018 Villi Archer

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other poeple. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, the please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter THE ARCH

There exists an innocent twining of vines and branches that can undo any man, or woman or beast. This is a tale, bitter in the telling, and therefore not truly worthy of this good company. I tell it only because it is my turn to help pass the time in this forsaken prison in which we find ourselves. This is my tale.

Once, I had a life unlike the one I know now, but I have forgotten nearly all of it. I had a name, and friends, and at least one woman who said she loved me, though through some fault, doubtless of mine own, it was said her love for me withered and this bitterness sent me out on some unknown quest. The nature of the quest I have never learned, but some of the people of that previous life I have come to know again, after my second birth.

Some of these friends, whom I cannot call old friends for my memory forbids it, but I dare not call new for that would do them hurt, they tell me that in my previous birth and life I was an elf. The woman who bore me could sit beside me and I would not know her, such is the nature of my affliction.

They tell me I was of middling years for my kind, coming into my first century, with time and time ahead of me. We drank, we played and loved, my friends and I, or so they tell me. It seems for me in my present form that playing and loving may well be beyond me, a thing for others to enjoy. Of drinking, there is never enough to wash away my sins, nor drown my sorrows.

Forgive me my audience, I grow morose. It is this inactivity. You can see that I am by nature an active creature. Since my rebirth, it has always been so. Perhaps it is the pain in my back again. It grows stronger these days, and I never seem to be free of it.

My second life is all that I can recall, and I remember exactly as it began. They say that even elves do not recall their first four years of life. But I began with instant cognition of all around me. I had languages, some natural for those who go on two feet, and some for those that go on four. I am often amazed by traveling companions who cannot understand one another. I switch back and forth with such fluidity, I know no inconvenience.

That day I was flat on my face, naked but for some rags, with various tools and weapons in heaps about me. None of this seemed strange at the time, even though there were elements of that event that now, in hindsight, were quite peculiar. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, and found the sun was westering. The rags I discarded at once, though the material was fine, it was useless to one of my bulk. The walking staff was shod with iron but in no way a wizard's wand. When I stood it only came up to my belt. I snorted and dropped the useless thing. The sword was good workmanship, but the hilt was molded to the contours of a hand much smaller than my own. I decided to keep it, thinking that I could trade it for clothes later. There was a small pack that contained sundries, which I examined, keeping the tinder box, throwing out the cup (a thimble if truth be known). I came to some food supplies and exhausted what was doubtless meant for a week's trek in a matter of minutes. And still I was not truly sated. Ah ... to be sated. Few times in my life since then have I known that blessed condition, and nearly each time, I had to commit some terrible crime to enable myself to find that brief respite that you, doubtless know with every meal.

Finally, I took up the little sword, and strapped the pack to one arm, for it would have been pulled to tatters if I had tried to wear it as its makers had intended. I made my way down the slope, but something compelled me to turn and look back the way I had come. There, right above where I had been seated stood an arch. It almost looked accidental, a thing that sometimes one finds in nature, which rich men spend their fortunes on trying to recreate. A branch bent here, another broken there, but kept in place by a creeping vine. Moss grew overall, a thing not overwonderous for that rainy clime. Still, the path ran right under and on either side were bushes as one finds in the mountain country. They have rich black berries in the autumn, but thorns that tear hide and hair of those so rash as would try to wade through them. Seeing this configuration did arouse in me a faint suspicion. Many a man, and many a woman might now know joy if I had walked back and investigated further that day. But it was not to be.

I made for the valley floor, following water when I met it. In general, there life abounds, both animal and sentient. As the sun went down I kept traveling until suddenly I smelled smoke on the air and in that smoke the intoxicating flavor of cooking meat. I followed my nose at a jog, despite the brambles which whipped my legs and tripped at me, but did no real harm. That too, should have been a sign, but I was blind to all but my nose and my gut.

Now all of us who have traveled the common road, know that there is an etiquette of hospitality. One shares what one has, and takes what is offered. I had nothing to give but the pack and the sword, but I would willingly have given both for a mouthful of that meat! That heavenly smell was overpowering me. Still, one does not just thunder into another's camp, and good sense overcame my appetite.

Hello the camp, I called. May a stranger take a share?

Hello stranger, came a voice. How many with you?

I am alone, I said uncertainly. Then I heard them move, my ears telling me instantly that there were three, and the words they spoke now were not supposed to be for my hearing.

Noise like that, got to be ten, whispered one. Jwaren! Up in the tree with your bow. Shoot the first one as he comes in. Then to me, Come ahead stranger.

Not unless Jwaren puts down his bow. I mean no harm and I speak no untruth. If you wish to keep your own counsel, so be it, but do not pretend hospitality, then through deception, give death. I could hear them rustle uncertainly. Jwaren, I tell you what. You kill the second man that comes into the clearing. How's that?

Fair enough, said a mousy voice, already high in a tree. I could tell that they were then trying to communicate by hand signals and getting nowhere with it. I laughed and walked into the circle of light about their fire.

Chapter ABOUT THE FIRE

The looks I received were of amazement and consternation. It was then I realized I stood before them naked. I laughed again.

Gentlemen, do not be alarmed. I have come looking to trade for clothes and a good meal. My own clothes were destroyed, or so I believe. Forgive my present condition, and let us barter.

I, too got the opportunity to meet my hosts. Jwaren, slowly came down from the tree. An elf, with elfin bow, strongly strung, all the arrows straight and true, fletched with leaves of all things, that neither withered with the wet, nor froze off from the cold. In charge of this band, a man, and as fortune would have it, a merchant. He was graying at the temples and had a nicked old short sword at the ready. I ignored it and his younger protege', a boy in his teens with a boar spear. I sat down with my back to the elf who had already given me his vote of trust by coming out of the tree.

Back up there, back up there wheezed the old man at Jwaren. Jwaren ignored him and sat down next to me. His eyes were wizened like an old apple. Shut up Edre. Put that frog sticker away. You too Amar. If he had wished us harm we would all be dead by now.

But why would I wish such a thing friend elf? I asked.

His eyes were piercing as he gazed up at me. Because you're hungry, was his reply.

I've come to bargain for some food, that's all. With such good hosts, why should I risk danger to myself?

The boy Amar put down his boar spear, glad to be rid of it. His eyes never left me, wide with fear. It was time I earned some trust.

It appears, good friends that you are running low on firewood. See if there is anything among my possessions that you would find worthy of trading for a meal. At that I got up and left the fireside with my possessions lying at the elf's feet.

Give it here, give it here, Edre whispered excitedly. I, of course, heard everything he said.

If he finds anything missing, we will pay for it dearly. He is not one to cheat, the elf warned.

With a face like that, he's bound to be a little, well you know heh heh ...slow? Edre giggled with glee.

Have a care uncle, said Amar. He heard us last time.

Making too much noise now though, the old man replied. I could hear him going through my pack like a rat through a grain sack. Oh .. oooh. Have a look Jwaren. Is that elven?

So, I thought, they've gotten to the sword. I had picked up some smaller wood then spied something of a size that would be comfortable to sit on. I took it under one arm and returned to the fire. I dumped the firewood to one side and asked the elf if he would move that I might set down my other burden. He scrambled, but his scramble slowed as he saw I was not in danger of dropping the wood before I wanted to.

Quite a log you got there, swallowed Edre. Amar was looking at the firewood. Too long was all he said. I reached over and popped a few pieces over my thigh, as I am sure all of you have had occasion to do. A trivial thing. I tossed the wood on the fire.

There now, I said sitting back. When's supper?

Well, well whined the old man, I'm not sure we'll have enough for us let alone for the likes of you. Ah, at last. Time to bargain. Joy comes to us all in some form or another. Here this dried up old man, most likely useless to a woman, too dear with his coin ever to know a good wine or to truly feast on sumptuous food, now he was on the verge of his most fulfilling moment. He was about to take advantage of a bumpkin, for such I must have appeared, seeing him for what he was and grinning about it.

Surely, there is something in my possessions that could inspire you to put a few more beans in the pot?

He bowed his head and began a long and practiced tale of woe. I laughed and my laughter cut him short. Come. I'm hungry. How much?

The sword and the tinder box, but you'll have to get your own breakfast, he snapped. I leaned forward in incredulity. The sword alone was worth more wares that he could tote in a year. I saw the elves shoulders tense. The boy was awestruck at his uncle's audacity.

I smiled. I agree. The old man puffed up like a toad ready to trill, the boy looked away from the fire, and the elf knew. He knew that I was not done. In addition, you will provide me with three changes of clothes, a pair of boots for riding and another for marching, full body amour, and a horse suitable for carrying me into battle.

The air exploded out of the old man's lungs. Go then. Git. Here's your miserable bag of odds and ends, and here's your worthless pot metal sword. Go sleep in the cold and be hungry for all I care. The season was autumn, and the air had a nip to it, but I could see that the others at the fire suffered more from the season than did I. I have never lingered where unwelcome, so I began to gather up my gear. I looked inside the bag. Nothing I valued was missing, though the contents were somewhat lessened. Well, I had some interesting conversation, and perhaps this was the price. I reached for the sword, and something about it repelled me. I cocked my head and picked up the weapon.

Oh ho! I cried. So, you've got a bit of magic do you old man. You put the glamorie on your old blade and thought to pawn it off on me. Anger is a terrible mistress friends. I do bid you shun her at all occasions. I felt my anger rise in me and did nothing to conceal it. I had come asking only food, and found treachery, tried to bargain and was cheated. I was not going to leave without some measure of justice for this bit of injustice that someone was trying to foist off on me.

The elf saw it first. He cracked Edre on the head with his bow. Give him back his true sword, or if he does not kill you I will. How dare you betray hearth privilege! And then to me, Sit. Eat. We will not partake until you have had your fill.

Wha? began Edre, and the bow returned this time the blow was followed by Jwaren knocking an arrow. Amar was already dumping out the food bags.

In truth, I could have eaten everything, but I left them something to squabble over. The elf deserved a feast for being fair, the boy deserved a full belly because he was an innocent, Edre deserved a stiff draught of a purgative that would have left him puking, sweating and with dysentery. I saw them split the meager remains and I drifted toward sleep.

I heard the little rustles that normally occur in a camp and they did not wake me, but when Jwaren spoke to Edre, there was something in his tone that forced wakefulness. Not that I opened my eyes of course.

You damn fool! Have you ever seen his like? I have. Once. One hundred and fifty nine years ago, in the upper Alganos regions. The one like him up there ate he must of gestured with his hands for I know not what he indicated but heard the sharp intake of Edre's breath. You saw him carry in a log ten feet long and three feet through. You saw him break branches for firewood over his knee that were as big as your thigh! Still you didn't learn. You tried to cheat him because you thought he looked stupid. And then ... I had to feed him everything we had to save us. You saw that sword. How does a creature like that come to have elven steel? How? Do you think that's peasant's work? I recognize the crest. Not royalty, but one of the Great Houses to be sure. Surely trained to fight from birth. And he died fighting that beast, so what chances would we have?

Peace Jwaren, I mumbled sleepily. None died in my acquisition of that steel.

And then Jwaren said something that surprised me greatly. He said, I believe you.

I woke, as often I do, with a ravenous appetite. Dawn was still an hour away. I left my belongings and walked out into the wood to see what I could find. It requires a great deal of edible mushrooms to satisfy me, but I always delight in them when I find them. I have been known to pillage a honey tree upon occasion too, but I could find neither of these this morning. What I did find was a young stag. He did not spy me even when I bent down and picked up a fist sized stone. I wish I could tell of a good throw, but honesty forbids. The rock fell short, skittered, bounced and caught the poor beast in the front left leg. The leg snapped and it set forth a terrible squalling. Pity moved me quickly to cover the distance between us. I throttled the poor thing before it could suffer more. I threw it over my shoulder and went to a stream so I could take a drink and bathe away the last of the previous day. Sitting in a small pool, I spied a ball of flint. Finding an appropriate rock I flaked off an adequate sized piece and skinned the animal out. Knowing that the intestines were disdained by most humans, I kept only the heart and liver and the flesh and the bone beneath it. It seemed a shame to discard the head, but one must be sensitive to one's host's quirky habits. I began to hear stirring in the camp.

I walked back to see the elf up, but no one else. I kicked at the boy's feet. Rejuvenate the fire if you can lad. I've a little something for us to roast for breakfast. I stacked three pieces of firewood together to form a crude tepee and draped the deer carcass over it. The antlers I threw in the general direction of my gear. They bring a good price from those fools that think they make an aphrodisiac. I took the hide back down to the stream where I worked the flesh away. At last, I thought. A garment. I heard the elf follow me.

I thought elves were supposed to be quiet in the woods, I called behind me.

We are, he said and sat on the bank. Please forgive that fool Edre. He'll be honest now that he knows he can't be any other way. We both chuckled. You don't know yet do you? he said.

Know what, I asked innocently. Perhaps the last innocent remark I made in this life.

You are not what you appear. Though you yourself know not what you are. What is your name? I was instantly befuddled. The water in the stream poured over my hands, the hide wet and sandy beneath them. What did you do last week? My breathing began to quicken. "Who did you