His memory settled on what the elven woman said when he was tested by that wizard. 'Should not exist', huh? By Avalene's mercy, he'd find out what she meant.
❧ ❧ ❧
Marcius didn't know what to make of it.
Like dirt stuck between two carpets of foliage, the land stretched out, a single mistake on the otherwise pristine paper that was Selenthia. The land itself seemed to be gray and dark, as twisted as the few trees that grew around it. It breathed slowly, a dying creature in the throes of entropy.
A large gate and fence, wrought of storm gray metal, stretched around the borders. Ancient carvings were etched into the side, along with ashen statues of humanoids that appeared to leer at the two of them from above.
Selene noticed Marcius's questioning look, "The land adapts to the mindset of the powerful," she said simply, "His presence even fouls that which surrounds him."
The elven warrior then touched the symbol in the center of the gate, saying a word that Marcius recognized from the Kra'nael. The gate stuttered for a few moments and then, with a groan, opened slowly. The land exhaled, beckoning Marcius forward.
"This is a far as I go," Selene said apologetically, "Follow the trail and don't detour if you value your life. I'll be here when you return."
He nodded, stepping through the gate before he lost his nerve. Or at least he tried to. There was something in the air, and it was like slogging through mud. He had to physically strain against an invisible barrier, pushing and beating against it. Finally he burst through, stumbling and gasping for breath.
Marcius realized what he had done as he looked back. There was a ripple in the air, like a disturbance in a still pond, and even without the help of his familiar, he was able to see the slight shimmer of the nether.
He had passed through a magical barrier! Of course Marcius had read of such things, but never did he expect to be on the receiving end. It was supposed to be a powerful magic. Just who was this person that he needed a barrier to protect him? Or maybe, and the realization made Marcius's stomach churn, it was to keep the 'abomination' trapped?
He turned around, intent on going back, but already Selene had closed the gate and melted into the surrounding forest. He felt truly alone now. There was nowhere to go but forward. Marcius steeled himself; the entire area had a presence that was throwing off his senses. It was if he was constantly off balance.
He didn't feel safe.
Remembering Selene's warning, Marcius did his best to adhere to the dirt path. It led him to the mouth of a cave, but it was obvious as he approached that it wasn't natural in any sense of the word. The sides were smooth, and the mouth was large. Flagstones lined the floor, meshing at the entrance with the dusty dirt path. Oil lamps, their flames flickering with every slight gust of wind, lined the sides and the entire place gave off an acute sense of timeless age.
Cautiously Marcius explored deeper and in the back a sturdy set of double doors awaited; twin portals that enticed Marcius to try the handle, if only to satisfy the curiosity of what lay beyond. There was no creak of rusted hinges as he opened it, only the deafening of absolute silence. Inside, it was if a castle had been built into the side of a hill. The walls were of sturdy brick and mortar and everything was well lit along the main corridor.
All too soon he reached the end, and it was here that the familiar sensation of dread returned, originating from behind a single innocent looking doorway. His hand shook as he reached out, hooking around the handle which was cool to the touch. Marcius took only a moment to consider his action, and then pulled, the door swinging open ominously.
The room was lit up intensely by candles, and expansive enough to have a large solid wooden table that spanned from one end to the other. But it was the figure that sat at the end of the table, staring directly at Marcius as he walked in, that stole the young apprentice's attention.
From the feral smile to the distinctly unelf proportions, Marcius recognized the elf in front of him as one part of the pair from the trial. Except this time there was no hood to hide the way the skin stretched taut over a face that looked more akin to a skull than a living, breathing creature.
"Welcome, human, to my humble household," the elf said, his voice flowing like seductive honey. "I am glad that you could make it so promptly. Please, take a seat."
Marcius nodded, his tongue suddenly heavy and unresponsive. He grabbed the chair in front of him, opposite of the elf, and sat down. Plates of food, steam gently wafting, waited on the table. The elf had been expecting guests. His stomach rumbled its appreciation.
"Do not be afraid to help yourself to that which you see before you," the elf said, "There is no reason why you can't enjoy a good meal before we discuss why I requested your presence this day."
The offer was tempting, but Marcius just couldn't do it. What was it about this elf that had him on edge? "Who are you?"
"Ah, straight to business, I see? Very well. 'Who am I' you ask? That is a many layered question, isn't it? I do believe what you meant was 'What are you', but I shall answer the question you put forth. Well, I am me. Unless you are asking for a name, then I'd say you could call me Velynere."
Marcius shook his head, trying to orient himself and drive back the feeling of lethargy that had taken hold, Velynere's voice had such a smooth quality, placating, like silk between fingertips. It tried to lull him into security, that there was nothing to fear. But his senses warned him of danger, intangible, but still very real.
Velynere, resting the side of his head against a hand, noticed Marcius's struggle and smiled, revealing perfect white teeth that glistened. "Ah, I see that I was right about you. Have you noticed the effect I have? Of hopelessness, of blissful ignorance, that threatens to take over? Aye, I see the look in your eyes. 'What is he' it asks, yes? Well, that is something I will tell you, if you accept my offer."
The apprentice shook his head, crashing his fist hard against the arm rest. There was an explosion of pain that lanced up his arm, but the fog in his head cleared. Pain, it seemed, was a way to combat the aura the elf exuded. "No," he said through gritted teeth. He was tired of being controlled! "You will tell me now, or I won't listen to anything else you say."
The elf sat back, cocking his head as he regarded Marcius with new light. "Ah, I see. Very well then." Marcius nodded to himself, ignoring the throbbing of his hand; the elf needed him. It was about time he got some answers.
"What you see before you, young apprentice, is the end result of what happens to those who try and get back what they lost. More specifically, what a wizard becomes when he tries to reforge his shattered soul."
Marcius stared at the elf, rifling through his words. What did he mean? The warning from Antaigne came unbidden into his mind. "You lost your familiar," Marcius said, half question, half statement, "And you tried to do it again!"
The elf nodded, "Aye, I did. A fool's notion, when I look back on it. But I was hardly in the appropriate frame of mind. You know what it is like, though you are only separated by distance from yours."
Marcius let out a ragged breath. He did indeed know. There was an ache in his chest, constantly yearning for the familiar touch of Faerill. He was literally and figuratively missing a part of himself. How might he act if he had lost his familiar?
He glanced up, back to the elf, "So, what are you, exactly?"
The smile Velynere shot back was one of reluctant acceptance. "I am a monster in the truest sense of the word. There are some benefits to this curse, of course. My life is extended, far beyond that of even an elf. My senses and physical prowess is increased as well. And I have gained the ability to do magic again."
Marcius gaped at the elf, "Doesn't seem to be that bad, if you ask me."
Velynere snorted, shifting in his chair. "Easy enough to say. You feel it, the sense of fear, of being shifted and afraid of what I am. I am not natural, an abomination of the most perverse kind. Listen to your senses, human. You know what I am."
Marcius looked hard at the elf, digesting the facts he knew. "You are a predator," he said slowly. "That is why you affect me so. I shouldn't trust you. You're dangerous."
The elf smiled, "Aye. Very much so."
The apprentice shook his head; it was too much to take in. "What do you want? I assume it isn't to kill me. I don't think the elves would do that to me."
Velynere laughed, "No, I don't want anything like that. What I do want is to give you an offer. I believe we can help each other."
"How can you help me, exactly? Why should I trust you?"
"Revenge, Marcius," Velynere said, using the apprentice's name for the first time, "I know about your father and your Master. I also know the secret stirrings in your heart, the anger that boils under the surface. I. know." The elf's eyebrow raised suggestively, "The people who stole that which you held dear, you wish to find, yes? I can help you find those responsible; I can help you become powerful enough to make them regret ever hurting those you loved. I can give you a means to that which you seek, where alone you might flounder."
Hope rose in Marcius's chest. If such a solution was readily available, he'd be a fool not to accept. It was as Velynere said. He wanted them, whoever they were, to pay for taking those he loved from him. But the warning of Ken's tapestry, the teachings of Antaigne, the subtle suggestions of his father, came bubbling to the surface. Would they approve of him dealing with such a creature as this? It didn't take long for him to conclude that no, they would not.