Nessalir the Red

While Nessalir had traveled the aislaith a number of times over the course of her friendship with Queen Eldorith, this was only her third visit to Ailefgar, the Realm of the Elves. The architecture of the ailefari was no less beautiful than it had been before, and for the first time, Nessalir beheld the look of wonder on another's face as he too was introduced to Elven artistry.

Iarius simply stared. His eyes were wide and childlike as he looked this way and that, taking all the sights of the courtyard around them. Nessalir could not help but smile at his display. She glanced up at the balcony, and her eyes met those of the Queen.

Eldorith smiled at Nessalir, and nodded to her. Then, the Queen of the Elves turned on her heel and entered her palace. A moment later, the doors at the end of the courtyard opened as though handled by ghosts, and a tall Elven woman approached Nessalir and Iarius.

"Dolabhí," Nessalir greeted the ailefar, "it is an honor to be in the presence of your Lady once more."

There were few in the realm of men who stood taller than Nessalir, and fewer still who were women. Yet this was not the case in Ailefgar. Dolabhí was half a head taller than the drakkowar, which was a common height for her people. She wore a white dress with living, green vines interwoven across the neckline and chest, down her right sleeve. Her arms and legs were long, and would have seemed unnaturally so on a human, but on the body of an elf, such limbs only appeared strong and graceful. Golden hair, tied in myriad braids, cascaded down her back, and Dolabhí regarded Nessalir and Iarius with large eyes that lacked pupils--only violet irises. Her mouth broke into a wide smile, stretching almost from pointed ear to pointed ear, and she spoke:

"Your formality is appreciated, Nessalir, but you know as well as I that it is not required." Her eyes flickered to Iarius before returning to the warrior. "And who is this guest you have brought with you."

Grinning, Nessalir slapped Iarius on the back, her muscular arm pushing the scholar forward in a small stumble. "This is Iarius ex Maritoris, a scholar from the Remuran Empire. I have sworn to protect him on his travels. Given my oath, I could not very well have left him in Waragar, could I?"

Dolabhí leaned forward to examine Iarius, face to face. If she had a few inches of height on Nessalir, she dwarfed the human man. Nessalir tried not to laugh at the Remuran's efforts to appear unintimidated by the inhumanly tall woman with the alien face.

"You have not seen my kind in our true form before, have you, Iarius ex Maritoris?"

Iarius swallowed. "I have met a pair of half-elf siblings. Shortly after meeting Nessalir. It was just before the last Dark Moon."

"Yes, I recall a half-blood traveling the aislaith, leading a group of humans. We kept clear of them, and observed from afar. Perhaps I should have guessed Nessalir had something to do with their presence, given they returned to Waragar where the kingdom of Lorveg once stood." Dolabhí straightened back to her full height. "As a friend of Nessalir, know that you too are welcome here, scholar of Remura."

She turned around then, and began walking back to the still open doors. "Come!" Dolabhí called back to the pair. "The queen waits to receive you!"

As they followed, Iarius said, in a low voice: "I remember telling me of how you met the Elf Queen, but to be here now, to see it with my own eyes…"

"It is a rare thing," said Nessalir. "Few humans ever see an elf in its true form, and fewer still visit their realm."

"She used those words as well. 'True form.' What do you mean?"

"Elves commonly walk the human realm," Nessalir explained. "They call it Waragar, while the Elven Realm is Ailefgar. Elves possess the Gift of Perception. It allows them to see over great distances, perceive that which is hidden to others, and choose how they are perceived by observers. When in Waragar, they rarely if ever appear as themselves, instead taking on the form of humans."

Iarius considered this. "So it is possible that I have met elves before, and not known?"

"Possible, yes," Nessalir agreed. "Even likely, given your previous assignment. Elves are a long-lived people, and they enjoy witnessing the events of history. Battlefields and occupied cities are among their favored sites for observation."

Her companion fell silent then, for they had entered the Queen's palace, walked up a flight of stairs shaped of crystal, and arrived at the throne room.

Eldorith sat adorned in a golden gown, vines covering her arms and branches growing from her white hair as a crown. Despite the coloration of her head, she appeared as a woman who had hardly even seen three decades--though in truth she had seen far more, for Elves do not age as humans do. Like her servant, she too was long-limbed, with pointed ears and large eyes which lacked pupils. Eldorith's irises, however, were the color of the sun.

She stood, and the Elven soldier who guarded her throne, Siuchrat, stamped his spear against the floor.

"You are welcomed into the presence of Queen Eldorith ly'Boncyff, Great Mother and sovereign of the ailefari!" Siuchrat announced.

Nessalir bowed, and as she did, she grasped Iarius' arm and made him bow as well. Standing before her throne, Eldorith laughed.

"You know you need not bow to me, dear Nessalir." The Queen's voice, as always, was warm and melodic, with a natural musicality that would inspire envy in even the most effortlessly talented of bards.

"Yet I shall, dear Queen," Nessalir replied with a smile. She stood straight, and Iarius did as well, and in three quick strides, Eldorith crossed the chamber and flung her arms around the drakkowar.

Nessalir found her head resting against Eldorith's shoulder. In all her life, the Queen of the Elves was the only individual she had found to have such height on her.

"It gladdens my heart to see you," said Eldorith. "I had hoped you could make it. The Bright Moon is tonight, and as magic flows from the world to the silver dragon, bonds weaken, and a great beast will soon break its chains and be unleashed into the forests of Ailefgar."

"A beast?" Nessalir felt herself tense. "Are you in danger?"

Eldorith let go of her and laughed. "No, no, you misunderstand," she said. "The beast, when killed, is reborn on the next Dark Moon, when magic is at its height. We then bind it, and it struggles with its bonds for ten years. At last, on the twentieth Bright Moon, it always breaks free, and the hunt begins."

The Queen spun around and ascended once more to her throne. "The Great Houses of the Court send champions to hunt the Questing Beast, and the House which claims its life sits in a position of high honor below me until the next hunt. Yet I, too, have the right to name a champion, one who might steal victory from the other hunters."

Golden eyes locked onto golden eyes as ailefar and drakkowar met each other's gaze. "Nessalir," said the Queen. "It would be an honor if you would serve as my champion on this Bright Moon Hunt."