Chapter 36

Part 5

Now they flew down into the valley. Soon Mark noticed swarms of elves flying about the center, and as they drew closer, he saw that there were throngs of them on the ground. “Sweet mother of all! I never knew ten thousand could look like so many!”

Yazadril frowned. “That’s because there are far more than ten thousand here already! And more arriving every moment!”

They flew above the trees to the center of the valley, where a perfect ring of twelve redwoods, each exactly the same height and shape, towered over all. A somewhat shorter ring of twenty-four surrounded them, with another ring of thirty-six around and below that. Around the three rings the symmetry was lost, for though the trees around them continued to smoothly decrease in height, they were positioned more randomly.

Talia came to a stop in mid-air above the center of the innermost ring, then descended into the round space between them. Now they were veritably surrounded by flyers, though all maintained a discreet distance. Some who recognized Yazadril, Nemia or Hilsith called greetings, which were fondly returned.

As they neared the ground they approached the east side of the clearing, then slowly settled toward a huge deck six meters up the trunk of the easternmost tree of the inner ring. Talia kept the chair hovering just above the deck as the others alighted, and Nemia opened the large, windowed, double doors with a gesture. Talia floated the chair in after them, and Nemia used another gesture to close the doors and draw the gauzy curtains.

Within they found a large, round, elegant room, with a high ceiling, graced by a magnificent and delicate crystal chandelier. Like the rooms in Yazadril’s home, it was a natural seeming hollow, and its floors, as well as the walls that curved up to form the ceiling, were surfaced by the highly-polished living wood of the great tree. On one side was a row of elf-sized dressing tables with padded stools interspersed with wall mirrors, so the bridal party could do last-minute touch-ups to their appearances, and on the opposite wall was an open cabinet with an assortment of fine spirits and beverages, surrounded by groupings of small armchairs and side tables.

On that side, Alilia conferred with several other elves, all attired in magnificent array. She wasn’t damping her glow to Mark’s sight, and a few of those with her were almost as bright, but he had come upon it gradually this time, and his eyes seemed to be more able to adjust to it now. He found that by narrowing his eyes a bit, he could look upon the group without too much discomfort.

At the rear of the room, near a door that led deeper into the tree, stood Theramin, Dilimon, and two female elves Mark hadn’t yet met.

Theramin looked agitated almost unto apoplexy. “Finally you are here, Yazadril!” he exclaimed as he hurried over. “I’ve been casting Speaking at you for forty minutes or more!”

“I was working on something delicate, so I blocked communication.” Yazadril told him, vexed. “I’m sorry I didn’t restore it afterward, but why didn’t you simply use an Official Priority Speaking?”

“Because officially speaking, there was nothing unusual happening until just now!” Theramin said as he threw his hands in the air in frustration. “Those within the inner ring are the only ones who are officially within the chapel, and they are all invited guests; all of The High People, and those Alilia invited from her people on Talia’s behalf. Everyone outside the inner ring are from her people as well, and they are, so they say, ‘just visiting’, as is their right under the terms of the alliance! It looks like the entire nation of The People of Life will soon be ‘just visiting’ around the chapel! Of course, it doesn’t really matter that they are outside the chapel, because unless you expressly forbid it, everyone outside will be taking a Reading from someone inside!

“Word has spread like wildfire! About the deaths of Dalia and Bezedil, about Mark, about Alilia’s curse, and about this wedding and how many have been invited! Rumors are spreading like a plague, and many of the young hot-heads are talking all sorts of foolishness!

“And this is spreading around the world! Those are the Princes and Princesses over there with Alilia, and they tell me that millions of elves from all over the world have asked for permission to come here! Just for a visit, of course! Alilia had to invoke the charters of war to insure that none spoke of any of this to any but elves! She had to actually declare a state of war in order to ensure compliance from the plains elves, just a moment ago!”

“Let them come.” Mark said as he stood and Talia banished her illusion. His powerful, rumbling voice drew every eye in the room.

He looked to Talia. She smiled and nodded, and offered him her hand. He returned her smile as he gently took it, then met the eyes of those around him one by one. “They must each swear to keep the peace, and to not crowd into the chapel or do anything else that would disrupt the ceremony, or the celebration. But on those conditions, we extend an invitation to any elf who wishes to come to our wedding.”

“Done!” one of the elves with Alilia shouted, loudly and triumphantly. “Let all see the truth, whatever happens!”

As he spoke a flash had lit in the room, so bright that Mark blinked hard and rubbed his watering eyes.

“I hope you’re satisfied.” Alilia declared in frustration. “For better or worse, there will soon be over two million elves in attendance!”

Mark nodded as his eyes cleared, and he gave her a smile.

Despite her ire, she was magnificent, her beauty easily outshining any he had seen except Talia and Nemia. And despite everything else, he could not help but be struck by it. She wore a white silk blouse with ruffled lace on the front, form-fitting black velvet pants tucked into high, black leather boots, and a black velvet cape secured with a gold chain over it all. Atop her gleaming white hair was a shimmering tiara of some white metal, centered with an oval sapphire as big as a chicken’s egg, and she held a black staff of power topped by a diamond as big as her fist.

“Wow Alilia, you’re really beautiful! I mean, that’s a nice outfit!” he blurted, then blushed at his own youthful impetuousness.

Alilia’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and then she could not help but chuckle at him. A quiet laugh went around the room as the tension was suddenly released, and everyone relaxed a bit. “Ah Mark, you are such a good boy.” She told him with a smile of her own. “And I will have you know that this is the raiment of a Battle Wizard of The People of Life. But thank you.

“We speak Trade Common around Mark, as he does not speak Elvish.” Alilia said to the royalty around her. “You all know Yazadril of course, and you met Nemia at their wedding. This is Hilsith, Master Healer of The Warm People. This is Talia, daughter of Yazadril and Nemia.”

Yazadril had given a shallow, dignified bow at his introduction, and the ladies gave a curtsy.

“And this of course, is Markhan Reginus Longstrider the Fifth, Forest Ranger of Shinosa Valley in Finitra, of whom we’ve been speaking.”

As he’d done before, Mark made his courtly bow and politely declared; “I am entirely at your service.” before smoothly standing again.

“Mark, this outspoken fellow is Prince Jaromer of The Elven Peoples of The Empire of Thon, Viscount of that realm and Imperial Wizard to His Excellency Osbald the Eighth. He’s feeling a little defensive right now, because he’s just learned, under a provision of military secrecy, that Yazadril and I were cursed from the vicinity of his homeland.”

Jaromer stepped forward and shook Mark’s hand as a man would. He was tall for an elf at one hundred and sixty-eight centimeters, with dark brown hair and eyes, and wore very ornate red robes of state. “Hello, young fellow!” was his jovial greeting. “My people have benefited greatly from our association with the humans of our country, and we’re of the opinion that the other elven nations could do the same. Segregation leads to conflict, we think, so I’m quite glad to see you come to dwell here! Hopefully this will lead to more pleasant relations between our more rural and conservative cousins and the human nations they share borders with.”

“Nothing would please me more, Prince Jaromer.” Mark returned. “And I’m glad to meet you!”