Chapter 35

Part 4

Nemia and Hilsith sat chatting on the couch, and rose at their arrival.

“My!” Nemia exclaimed. “He just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t he?”

“He does!” Hilsith agreed. “Your husband again shows new talent, an ability with cosmetic magic!”

“Yes, having obviously found a way to affect Mark’s skin and hair!” Nemia laughed.

“You two are both very pretty as well!” Mark complimented.

Hilsith and Nemia both wore evening gowns that were much as Mark expected ladies of nobility to wear, their floor-length flared hoop skirts stuffed with petticoats, their short sleeves puffed, the necklines low and rounded. Both dresses had many accents; tiny pearls and gems, and delicate ribbons and bows. Nemia’s was a very light pink, while Hilsith’s was a bright white with a blue tinge that matched her hair and skin.

“You are indeed very beautiful, both of you!” Yazadril smiled, emerging from the hallway.

“Oh my!” Nemia breathed as he came to her side.

“Yazadril? Is that you?!!” Mark asked in amazement, for the ancient elf was barely recognizable.

He wore a gleaming suit of golden armor, plate over mail, with white ceramic accents, and a white cape trimmed in gold embroidery. The hilt of a matching two-handed sword was seen over his left shoulder, the tip of the scabbard almost touching the ground by his right foot. His gauntlets hung from his belt, and a small but very ornate crown graced his head, gleaming gold and silver and studded with jewels.

But his transformation was far more complete than that. He no longer looked ancient, and instead appeared to Mark to be about forty-five years old. His long beard was gone, and his clean-shaven face had only a few fine lines. His hair was now a dark steely gray, and his aura of ‘humble old elf’ was completely gone. His bearing was now straight and strong and full of the command of nobility. For the first time, Mark realized that here was one of the most formidable warriors that had ever lived.

“Oh, it’s me, all right.” Yazadril chuckled. “For the last millennia it has suited my purpose to have a demeanor that encouraged my people to find me very approachable. For the same reason I have often appeared to be less magically skilled than I am. Now, I think events call for something else, and so I have reverted to my more military image.”

“But you look so much younger!” Mark stammered.

“Yes. The appearance of age is a harmless affliction that comes upon us very slowly, and it’s few elves who are of such an age to be able to achieve that look. But, we can choose to heal from it. If I wished, I could appear as young as Nemia, but that would not help me to be taken seriously in councils of war. And I must admit that the age I allowed to slowly come upon me must have affected more than my appearance, for now that it is gone, I feel more fit and vigorous than I have since… Why, since I last looked like this!”

“Oh my husband, I have loved you so much!” Nemia sobbed as she hugged him, moved to tears by him. “But I never knew I could desire you so much more! If this wedding were not so important, I would drag you down the hall to our bedroom this very instant!”

“Why… I had not considered that!” Yazadril chuckled.

“And you’re glowing brighter than Nemia and Talia, and they’re the brightest I’ve seen except Alilia!” Mark revealed.

“I expect I am. This armor, the crown, and most especially the sword, are all among the most revered treasures of my people, and they are items of serious power indeed!”

“Oh Father, you look so fine and handsome!” Talia marveled.

“Thank you. And now our preparations are complete, I think. Shall we go?”

“We shall!” Talia eagerly agreed. “And I think that I should hide Mark from sight as we travel, so we can make a more grand entrance when we step out into the chapel.” She gestured at Mark’s chair and whistled a melody.

“Good thinking.” Yazadril nodded. “A little showmanship can only aid our cause.”

“What did you do?” Mark asked his intended as he seated himself, and Talia curled up in his lap.

“I cast an Illusion. To other eyes, this platform now has a wood frame around the chair, sporting a roof and curtains all around, of brown cloth with gold thread embroidery.”

“Oh.”

They smoothly rose and floated over the balcony railing, Yazadril and Nemia taking a position to the left as before, and Hilsith to the right.

“You can fly if you want. I trust it now, and I’m used to the height after being on that balcony so much.” Mark murmured to Talia. “I mean, you don’t have to go along the ground like before.”

“Excellent!” Talia laughed, and they sailed off into the wide spaces between the great trees, gradually gaining altitude.

PART 5

When they cleared the tops of the trees, still rising, the ground below was beginning its incline to the pass into the next valley. Soon they sailed far above the pass and into the valley beyond, though they were still far below the tops of the mountain peaks all around.

“This is incredible!” Mark shouted over the howl of the wind, for though they felt very little of it, Talia was deflecting a mighty blast of air. “I don’t even want to know how high up we are! How fast are we going?”

“Every minute, we travel about a league.”

“A league a minute? But that’s…” he had to pause to calculate it. “That’s about two hundred and ninety kilometers per hour!”

“Yes.”

Mark looked around in wonder, for at their height the speed was not as apparent. Furthermore, the three flyers around him were standing at their ease, and since they chose to block the wind completely, they sailed along without a hair out of place. He shook his head in amazement.

“Why did Dilimon fly the way he did, instead of standing up like that?”

“He flies three times as fast as this. At that speed he must minimize the wind he must deflect, or the noise would be deafening and the cold would be dangerous. He is very skilled at it.”

“Oh.”

Now they were over the next valley, which was also perfectly round and hemispherical except for the flat of the valley floor, though it was somewhat smaller than First Valley. And where the trees around Yazadril’s home seemed to be of every variety that Mark had ever seen, those in the second valley were all of types that shed their leaves in the fall, with none of the evergreen varieties.

“That oak is the oldest tree in The Nine Valleys.” Talia told him. The one she pointed at stood by itself in the exact center of the valley. Mighty it was, the highest in the valley, five hundred and fifty meters tall and fully as wide, with only grass beneath it, surrounded by a clearing five times as wide as it was. “It was planted soon after my people settled here, when there was nothing else but blasted rock. Most of the first trees died early, till there was a sufficiently nutritious soil base, but that one has survived, and thrived. It has a very long name in my language, but we simply call it The First Tree.”

They curved gradually to the right, aiming for the pass to the third valley beyond. This pass was long, and had a road that climbed as it wound between five mountains, each higher than the one before. Talia flew them up and up, over the second and third peak, between the last two.

“This is Laylas Valley. It is the largest of the nine. The chapel is at the center.” Talia explained as they flew over the last high notch of the pass.

“Wow!!” Mark exclaimed as the valley came into view. It was five times as wide as First Valley, and five times as deep as well, fully seven thousand six hundred meters from the valley floor to the jagged rim. It was more of a bowl than the other two, since the flat at the center was a smaller proportion of it, and the rim much more consistent in height. And in contrast to the previous valley, every one of the great trees here was of a single variety of redwood fir. They were more closely spaced as well, and in many places the tips of their branches intermingled. They smoothly rose in height toward the center, forming a round peak.