Date: Mon, 09 May 2005 02:32:41 -0500 From: Merle Windsor Subject: Fireflies from the Darkness part 1 This is my second story for this section, and even though it doesn't have anything directly sexual yet, that will evolve. I wanted to set up a nice fluffy exterior before I did anything "hard". It's also in second-person for now, but it may or may not change after the initial set-up. If you have any suggestions/comments/questions/concerns feel free to send an e-mail to geo_carbuncle@hotmail.com. DISCLAIMER: Yes, well, if you don't like male-male action...This is definitely the wrong part of the site to be on anyway, but I have no responsibility for your actions. (Like I really would anyway? We're all responsible for ourselves.) If it's illegal to view this story, it's a shame, but I'd advise you away from it. That being said, if you can enjoy it, please do. ============================================================================= Please, have a seat. Don't worry, you're no more of an imposition on me than anybody else who comes to visit. You must be lost! The first time I came here I was almost executed for that same misfortune. I'm glad the Elves have lightened up a bit. What? Oh. You're probably wondering why a human alchemist would be found in the middle of the tree-city of Kal'Zhan, right? The gleam in your eyes deceives you. No, I'm not Elven nor have even the tracest of Elven blood coursing through my veins. I'm here by honor and honor alone. Oh, I see. You've heard THOSE rumors. Well, if you'll promise not to tell anyone, I'll share with you the true story--seedy bits and all. Here, have a mug of this. The story will take a while. *** It was a calm, still night in the city of Galentheria. Not a sound could be heard throughout the entire city save for the gentle chirps of tired crickets. After a year of bloody war, it seemed to finally be at rest-- not that I particularly cared which side won. It all seemed so pointless to me. Countless homes, forests, towns, and respectable businesses were all torn asunder by a force that could be described simply as greed. The night the fighting stopped I was doing the exact same thing I was doing the night the fighting started: working. I'm not an idle person, you know. I believe I was working on the transmutation project again, but I can't help but think I was taking a distillation of White Hellebore for Widow Leslia's cat. Then again- Oh. Right. Well, it was later in the evening; I suppose ten or so. I was ready to pour a small vial of Hebona--that's what it was, Hebona--into a beaker to heat on a small plate. Just then, a huge trumpet call rang throughout the city and I dropped it right onto the floor. Both vial and beaker shattered into a thousand pieces, and wouldn't you guess it was a new beaker! I was furious. In my rage, I stomped out the door and noticed that the citizens had gathered into an impromptu parade and were marching down the cobblestone, waving red and gold flags and banging pots and pans. "Hey there," a voice slurred from the crowd. A figure drunkenly made his way to me and placed his filthy hand on my shoulder. It was none other than Galsa Thendrick. Galsa was a horrible drunk but an otherwise intelligent man. When he could stop to put down the bottle and engage in discussions of mathematical theory I even felt intellectually challenged--and that's very hard to do. Of course, that assumed that he was sober. That didn't happen often. Regardless, the idiot had his greasy paw all over my green tunic. I don't pride myself on what I wear, but after all, it was the principle. "You souse," I said, batting away his hand. "What in the name of the four elements do you think you're doing?" "You're shoooooo funneh!" he said, tilting from side to side in a parody of a real dance. "The ladehs must looooooove ya." In all frankness, the ladies did not love me. I had no interest in them and they had no interest in me. It would have come along eventually, but I'm a River. *** What? What don't you understand? The `River' part? I suppose it deserves some sort of explanation. Normally, humans and Elves alike are kept animated by a spiritual energy. This energy, which I've alchemically documented, is a fascinating concept. I've spent the past 5 years here observing its effects and I can't say I'm any closer to unraveling its mysteries. Anyhow, this energy sometimes makes things different from normal. My eyes, for example, are quite brown. That's normal to me. However, with everyone else--especially the Elves--I'd imagine it's out of the ordinary for them. Well what does that have to do with rivers? Nothing! Like I said, the energy makes things different. It's "normal" for a male to be attracted to females and females attracted to males. Sometimes there is a fluke in the energy which I call a stream. Yes, stream. That causes a male to be attracted to other males and so on. Those that have that stream I call `Rivers'. Oh? You are? Well, that's good to know. Now you know why. Moving on. *** I managed to beat away Galsa's repeated attempts at getting me to join the celebration when I returned inside to my laboratory. I silently cursed the jubilation held by the denizens of the city--they were quite annoying. That being said, I went back to work and managed to complete the experiment. Nonwithstanding that it was a failure, I would have stumbled to bed. All things considered, I probably should have. Heh-heh. Either way, Fate wouldn't have it. A bright twinkle caught the corner of my eye and pulled the rest into sight. My satchel of harvesting tools--so expensive to find a good set nowadays--was being levitated by a small group of blue firefly creatures. I had never seen blue fireflies before, and I was therefore naturally curious. Before my curiosity led me any further, however, the group of fireflies formed a small circle around the pouch and spirited it out my window. My scientific fascination abruptly turned to shock. The fireflies were obviously some sort of ruse. I sprinted out the door and after the illuminated pouch. My travels took me right down the cobblestone to the edge of a great field. Knowing that the field was safe at dark, I pursued even further, panting with exhaustion. Somehow I lost track of distances and surroundings because I eventually ended up at the edge of a deep forest. Well, the only deep forest. This forest, as a matter of fact. The Zi'La. There's something you have to know about the Forest of Zi'La: The forest itself is only a magical manifestation of the Elvish energy inside. Like lake-ripples from a stone, the forest will mutate and alter from any disturbance on the inside. Of course, there is only one thing on the inside of this forest: Kal'Zhan. I know, it doesn't seem like much, but believe it or not it's the last stronghold of the Sylvan Elves. *** What? Oh, you want to know about Elven history. Well, there's not honestly much I know. The culture and living styles of the different varieties, however, I do know. First of all are the Sylvan Elves, which you have had the pleasure--or displeasure--of meeting today. I admit, they can be a little self-righteous about their "Code" and "Natural Laws", but when it comes down to it they're the only group that could give more than a damn about humans. Why do I live among them? Well, because they accept me, naturally--and I accept them. They're quite beautiful, I must say. Hearty, stately beings. The next group are the High Elves. They're not nearly as much self-righteous as they are downright pompous. Saying the High Elves are a little overbearing is like saying that an open bonfire is a little warm. Heh, liked that one, didn't you? Anyway, they're not my kind of people. They talk about justice and "The Light" as if they know directly what they are. Oh, sure they're gorgeous, but there's more than looks, you know. The final group are the Dark Elves. They are the scariest and most violent, hands down. It seems that in the same way that the High Elves are obsessed with "Light", the Dark Elves are obsessed with "Dark". I think they're all charlatans. They rule with fear to further their own goals and "Dark" is a pretty standard name for it. I won't mince words, though, if there is a True Darkness or True Evil, I'm sure they've found it. What? The Sun and Moon Elves? Well, I can't say I've met a lot of them. There are a handful that take refuge here, but from what I gather they're spurned from every other Elven city. The Sun Elves I've met are all happy, cute fellows that don't do a whole lot besides frolic. More power to them for that. The Moon Elves are their polar opposites doing nothing but brooding all day and staying awake at night. I hear they have salacious orgies in the moonlight, but I can't say I've seen it. Of course, I can't say I find them particularly unattractive so a sight like that-- Oh. My original story. Right. Where was I? *** The Forest of Zi'La is a dangerous place, but not nearly as dangerous if you know what you're doing. Many a novice adventurer has made a pilgrimage into the forest never to be seen again. That's how it is with those silly adventurers. They think they're invincible. They have no regard for the Dreadbeasts that haunt the area or the Pyreplants that will burn you alive. No respect, no foresight. At this time, the blue fireflies floated precariously on the edge of the woods, just daring me to enter the darkened forest. I don't know if it was a brief lapse of common sense or simply a sort of greed, but I sprinted after the azure lights into the forest. I wanted those tools. As soon as I was a considerable distance into the forest, I became aware of chirping and howling. I didn't know it at the time, but they were simply magical illusions designed to protect the Sylvan Elves. Because I didn't know this, of course, I was petrified. I plodded on, though, panting heavily all the way. I wasn't very athletic and I'm still not. As I moved closer to the fireflies, I became more frightened of the area. It was filled with various nasties that would love nothing more than to tear me limb from limb. That thought alone drove me into a panic, but then I realized that I would be treading into sacred Sylvan territory. As soon as the thought dropped into my mind, I felt a sharp sting on my right shoulder. As I became sleepier, I only prayed that the Sylvan Elves would have mercy. I recall being very warm when I awoke. My eyes fluttered open and I couldn't help but be a little alarmed. I was in a small hut of some sort. The walls were made of simple sticks and leaves, but the arrangement made brilliant patterns that would make the richest nobleman jealous. The floor was made of the same materials, I assumed, though it was soft and actually very comfortable. I had to admit it was the nicest place I had ever been a hostage in. "Hey," I suddenly heard someone say. "You're finally awake." In the corner, where my eyes had blurred, I saw an Elven man stand proudly. I suppose he had been leaning against the wall, but my bleary eyes hadn't quite noticed him. I swallowed hard and responded quietly. "Where am I?" He laughed a bit, and I didn't blame him. I was in a tattered tunic lying on the floor at his feet, reeling like a drunkard. When my eyes finally came into focus, my breath escaped in a rush. Elves, I thought, were all grace and stature and loved to look beautiful. I had never seen one look strong. The Sylvan Elves, I had quickly realized, were much more hearty than your average Elves. The one that stood before me had tanned, earthy skin with a figure closer to a brawler than an Elf. His muscles rippled with strength, and the only clothing he wore was an animal-hide wrap that tightly encircled his waist. A large, black tattoo arched from his chest up to his neck. His dark eyes gleamed as he smiled. "You're in Kal'Zhan," he said in a low, sonorous voice. "What were you doing in the woods?" "My tools," I said, still in awe. "They took-" The door, which I had not seen, swung open and another Sylvan Elf strode through. This one, I noticed, was not as overtly muscular as he was toned. Sleek. Built for running and a swift kill. His eyes were the same dark color and other than a scarlet sash, wore the same fur wrap around his waist. I quickly realized that the Sylvan Elves must have had few codes of modesty. "You," commanded the Elf with a sash. His voice was deep, but airy. "State your name." I quickly scrambled to my feet and began to stammer. "My name is Silden Ghanen. If there's anything I've done wrong, I had no intention to!" The two Elves looked bored. I rambled to save my life. "I was looking for my custom harvesting tools because I'm an alchemist and these fireflies came-" "Wait," said the burly one. "You're an alchemist?" "Yes," I responded, wincing. "Just a minute," said the smaller one. They disappeared from the room for a good ten or twelve minutes before they both returned. Their manner was easier and less terse. "Normally," said the smaller one, "we'd kill you on the spot for violating the sanctity of our woodland home. However, there is something we think you can help us with." "Anything!" I blurted, hoping it wouldn't end up with me dead. "The Chief," began the burly one, "fell ill and passed into the Earth two full moons ago. His son, Saelin, has taken command of the Sylvan Elves, but has fallen into a deep sickness." He began to shift slightly. "We need you to help us." "I would be happy to," I said, relieved. "I will do all I can to help him." The one with the blood-colored sash eyed me suspiciously and made a motion to follow him. "Try to escape, and you're dead." On that happy note, I followed the smaller one through Kal'Zhan. The city sprawled out through the forest and it was a surprise to the senses. The sights and smells alone wrapped themselves around my head before the breeze and the taste of the summer air hit my tongue. I was quite enamored with the place. After walking a decent distance--getting surprisingly few strange looks--I was deposited by a large hut on the top of a platform. A small brook babbled by, and I thought it was simply beautiful. It was the pastoral retreat I had always wanted. It was a shame that even if I did live, I wouldn't be able to come back to it. I walked to the door. I cautiously opened the door and was simply shocked upon entering the hut. The inside was all linen and silk, unlike the rustic tree-themed hut I awoke in. It was lavish in its simplicity and yet adorned with every gold and silver royal icon and diadem that one would ever need. It was gorgeous. The thing that broke me out of my reverie was a small cough from the opposite side of the room. A bed, covered with thick white sheets and with somebody presumably lying in it, laid next to the window. A small sigh came from the bed and I slowly walked up to it. "Pardon me," I murmured next to the bed. "Are you Saelin?" It was probably the strangeness in my voice that made him hesitate, but after a few seconds, he summoned up his strength and flipped the covers down over his head. I was stunned beyond comprehension. The man lying in bed was not muscular, tanned, or even hardened. He was a cool, pale white--most likely half High Elf--and had a set of sparkling aquamarine eyes the likes of which I had never seen. He had an obvious fever, which brought an attractive blush to his cheeks and instead of the more barbaric shirtlessness of the Sylvan Elves, he was wearing a small blue tunic. He looked at me strangely as he wiped back his long blond-bordering-on-white hair matted with sweat. He seemed interested in me, but was simply too fatigued to hold that interest. "My name is Silden," I said smiling, trying to be friendly. "I'm an alchemist sent to help you." "Oh," he said faintly. His voice was the sound of faint cathedral bells. My heart drooped at his predicament. He was so lovely and so frail. I became instantly infatuated with not only the idea of nursing him back to health, but loving him for all time. It was that day that I began work on Saelin. I had employed every technique I knew to discover the source of his illness, and it quickly drove me to work as hard as I ever had. I tested medicine after medicine to help him. Whenever I thought of giving up, I just had to look to his beautiful eyes looking longingly to me for a cure to feel the call of life rejuvenate me. I set up a laboratory in his hut and began to consult the midwives and magical women of the Sylvan Elves. They seemed to like me well enough. After three weeks of constant work, I was positive I had the answer. I brought the crystal vial to Saelin and smiled. His eyes brightened and he sat up. "Oh, Silden!" he said happily, albeit faintly. "Did you finish?" "You bet I did!" I said proudly, handing it to him. "Drink it slowly now." He took it and poured the clear liquid past his paling lips and swallowed it. "It feels good," he said, smiling. "Let's hope it works," I said, equally giddy. Something about Saelin brought out my playfulness. Even lying in a bed he was brilliant with energy. I moved to sit down next to him when I felt a warm hand on mine. "Silden," he said softly. "If this works, will you have to leave?" My heart sank in my chest. "I hope not." "Well, you can't," he said, gently nuzzling his cheek against my hand. "I won't let you." "Saelin," I said seriously, "I came here on accident and I don't want to leave any more than you want me to. I just don't fit in." Saelin took a deep breath, lunged, and grasped my waist. I was about to protest when he quickly pulled me down onto his bed. At that moment, I realized how much smaller and adorable he was. He cuddled next to me and started to cry--perhaps partially for his illness. I could do nothing but hold him and stroke his flaxen hair. "You can't leave," he said, "I love you." The words hit me like a dagger to the heart. In all the time I was there, it never occurred to me that I would love him. Yes, I thought he was cute beyond all words. Yes, I wanted to lie in bed with him. All of those things were not love--and just now, this was. I became enthralled with his eyes, now red with tears and smiled a little. He was waiting, anticipating the rejection. He bit his lip, he didn't want to be alone. Not alone. With anyone, not alone. I bent down and pressed his soft lips upon mine. In that moment, we became one with each other. We explored our bodies, pressed together, thrilling with the ecstacy of a warm body that loves you and cares for you more than you do yourself. In a paroxysm of this love, we fell back onto the bed. Saelin then began to laugh uncontrollably. His sides began to hurt and it made me laugh as well. "What's so funny?" I said. "This," he said quietly. He reached down and grabbed something under his bed. "It's for you." He placed it gently in my lap and tears came to my eyes--it was the pouch of harvesting tools. *** There you have it. That's how I met my sweetheart and that's how we eventually became mates for life. What? You wanted the more scandalous parts? Nope! Not without his permission. Not for anything in the world! That's between me and him.