The town was atop an ancient nexus, leylines of power streaming towards it through the wilderness, great rivers of glistening energy conveying essence to a single focal point. The scattered stubs of ruins marked what had once been elven towns and villages, utterly destroyed long centuries ago. The human castle was a simple, crude thing, blocks of stone heaped upon each other. Strong enough against bandits and monsters but lacking any true permanency. Small wonder it was destroyed by Melltgalwr of the Storm when she awoke from her slumbers.

And beneath it, the reason for its destruction – thick, ropy coils of sickly shining power hidden by a crimson mist, a dismembered black thing, a putrescent cancer beneath the land. Dead, but not taken by death, another token of the Black Triad, left to blight the land even in their absence. Quite why humans were drawn to such things was a mystery to her, could they not just stay away from such obvious dangers?

One of her companions approached, pulling cloth away from their face so they could speak clearly. ‘Thrice-Queen, my thanks for accompanying us. I hear that you have had dealings with the humans before – I hope that this can be resolved without bloodshed.’

‘The blade needs to be reclaimed, that the beast can be sealed.’

‘As you say. Although the awakening of Melltgalwr makes matter more complex. She may destroy the blade in her wrath, not knowing what she does.’

‘As it is said, “the lightning shall rouse the night”.’

They nodded, face serious. ‘Yes. Our elders believe this to a time spoken of in prophecy. Your time travelling in human lands must have given you great insight into their mysterious ways.’

Parth tried to look wise and inscrutable, rather than tired and irritable. Having been sent a message of matters urgently needing her attention, she hadn’t been entirely surprised to find that tomb-robbers had violated an ancient sanctum, stealing the item binding an ancient evil to slumber. She’d at least managed to silence the voices calling for blood, although the area was the domain of Melltgalwr of the Storm, an ancient sorceress of power, bound to an ancient oath to stop the thing beneath the land awakening. Which she had historically completed via repeated destruction of this place – effective, at least in the short term, but eventually she would be defeated, get bored or otherwise fail in her task.

From the flags, banners and tents erected around the town, some human festival was happening. Still, there seemed to be enough other adventurers around that a group of elves wouldn't attract overly negative attention. Preparation for some form of trial of arms? In other times, it might be entertaining to take part and test herself, but there was important business to be about.

Arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind, pinning her arms in place. The elves around her reacted in confusion, arms flying to swords, bows getting drawn, as a familiar voice chirped into her ear.

‘Hi Parth! Wasn’t expecting to see you here. And, like, with friends.’

She stopped resisting, knowing that she couldn’t break out of Semari’s grab. ‘Important business.’ She spoke the human tongue, as she tried to gesture to the others not to escalate, hampered by Semari’s tight embrace.

‘Oh, elf stuff? Neat, thought you’d be up around the stone circles and stuff. Anything to do with, like, that storm witch lady? She seems old enough to be elf stuff.’

‘Maybe.’

‘Cool. Want to introduce me to your friends?’

Path focused her vision, trying to look past the tightly-contained thunderstorm of Semari. If she was here, then that probably meant… Yes, up in the castle, she could see the glowing sunlight of Stathis, next to the twisted and black sleet-storm that was Janaxia. And elsewhere, a raging inferno she didn’t recognise, some powerful being allied to a spirit of fire. She sighed and muttered an elven curseword beneath her breath. That complicated matters. Although Stathis would likely be useful to help with her goals, but she would likely wish to fight, or at least drive off, Melltgalwr of the Storm, rather than see this place destroyed. But if Stathis was here, then matters were likely more important than Parth had expected.

The other elves were looking at Semari in confusion as she detached herself and peered back at them. Parth spoke in elven, trying to explain. ‘This is a human ally. She will help us with our goals. Do not challenge her, she is powerful.’

This caused a few mutters of consternation, as they took in Semari’s raggedy appearence, and her bracer, sparking with occasional bursts of lightning.

‘An ally? On your travels you have found those amongst the lesser races willing to aid our cause? Most impressive, Thrice-Queen Parthenelle. And her appearance will no doubt mean she is overlooked by others of her kind.’ Murmurs of respect passed through the group.

‘Yes, as you say.’

‘You here to help Stathis out? There’s this knight that’s being a total dick and wants to chop her hands off for doing, like, not-knight stuff.’

Convenient leverage. Although Stathis was resourceful enough to make it through, it couldn’t hurt to help, as long as it didn’t involve too much effort or risk. ‘Janaxia?’

Semari shrugged. ‘Weird, like always. Think she’s poking about the basement, there’s probably ancestors or something down there. You know anything about that?’

‘A curse that slumbers.’

‘Yeah, figures. Always ancient curse stuff. Although she’s being, like, less evil than normal. A lot more grumpy though. Want to get a drink? Beer here’s pretty good. Don’t mind treating your friends, I punched out a dude and got a load of cash from that.’

Parth fed this back to the others, inspiring a round of hurried discussion; some were doubtful of the virtues of trying human drink, although several had clearly heard rumours or drunk it before, even if they were trying to hide their knowledge. A hasty bout of muttering later, the decision was made to decamp to the pub, the elves huddling close together, unsure of themselves in the crowded atmosphere, Semari returning with trays of tankards, enough for everyone.

As she did so, Parth attempted to reformulate her plan – it would have been easy to infiltrate the castle, obtain the blade and steal out again before Melltgalwr of the Storm arrived, but the presence of not only Stathis, but also Janaxia and whoever the being of flame was, complicated matters significantly. She took a drink of beer, smiling at the flavour, noticing that none of the others drank until she had. Although several of them appeared to enjoy it, at least to judge by their expressions. Semari tried speaking to one of them, who stared at her blankly, unable to understand the human tongue.

Parth shifted, drawing close to one of her companions. ‘It may be that this is a time of prophecy. Melltgalwr of the Storm has destroyed this place, time and again, seeking to drive the humans away, but it may be that reconciliation is possible. Her waking times are always brief, leaving her little time for thought, but perhaps such a thing may be possible.’

This caused consternation amongst them, many taking nervous sips of their drink. ‘You think this is a thing of such importance, Warrior of the Fallen Leaf? You presided over the destruction of the twice-dead dragon and led a journey to the Underworld in pursuit of a shape-twister. You think this to be of similar import?’

Parth tried to think of an appropriately vague verse to justify what she was going to do; being vague gave sufficient latitude to do whatever she wanted. ‘It may be. “The sun lies shrouded in storm and shade, lost in stone. A blade of purpose, and warmth veiled in deepest black. Without blood, all shall fall”.’

They shifted uncertainly – they were all young, and the mission they had been given had seemed so simple. And now it was a thing of prophecy, and suddenly everything seemed far more complicated and dangerous. Although Semari wasn’t helping matters, as she fingered one of their cloaks, admiring the fabric, before poking their armour, feeling the finely crafted chainmail.

‘I have other allies in place, that will make this task easier. We shall see what the dawn brings.’ Likely some plan of Stathis’, in whatever contest she was engaged in, but that would provide a convenient pretext to help, as well as something that could be leveraged into what she needed.

__________________________________________

For some reason, Janaxia was taking watch, gazing into the darkness. Parth let her focus slip, gazing at the crimson-tinted darkness that marked Janaxia’s presence in the ethereal realm, a flickering shadow, dancing with spiked crowns. She kept an arrow nocked and ready, in case the darkness should overwhelm her, drive her to destruction, but Janaxia simply stood in the wet night, getting soggy beneath the heavy rain.

She spoke, voice quiet beneath the splats and splashes. ‘Parthenelle, we have worked together for quite some time, have we not?’

Parth nodded, before realising that she was stood behind Janaxia, who wouldn’t be able to see her gesture. ‘Yes, by human counting.’

‘Do you think me a worthy ally? Of late, I do wonder.’

Parth felt the tension of her bow, easing the string back slightly. This didn’t seem likely to presage an attempt at murder, destruction or conquest, but caution was best around one allied to darkness. It was fortunate that her infatuations were not backed by any of her dark magic, or else she would need eliminating. ‘Potent magic.’

‘Hmmm. I thank you. Although I do wonder sometimes. That wretched magician certainly appears to believe the most wretched things about me, and has likely been spreading scurrilous rumours.’ There was a rustle, the darkness moving slightly, as Janaxia pulled out a scroll. ‘He had the gall to give me this, under the pretence that it was ancient magic.’ She unrolled it, Parth barely able to make out that it was covered in writing in the low light. Then she felt nauseous, her brain rebelling at the letters, the Unspeakable Tongue rejecting itself from her memory. She looked away, mind reeling, vision blurring.

‘To take the time to put such venom to paper; am I truly so hated by my peers? And Stathis has not a single word of praise for my myriad of skills!’

Parth rolled her eyes. Humans seemed to positively delight in making their lives complicated. Fun though it was to needle Janaxia, she seemed genuinely distraught, and was unpredictable when upset. The two of them really should behave in an appropriately elven manner, with cool dispassion. Or get really drunk together, that being a mechanism humans seemed to use to make up for their other lacks. She tried to think of something to say that would keep her stable, and around Stathis’ moderating influence, resisting the urge to simply drop away through the floor. Elves were far more sensible about things, formalising such relationships, rather than engaging in untidy and ad-hoc partnerings! Or at least ad-hoc partnerings explicitly agreed to by both parties, rather than random chance and inebriation.

‘Valued. Appreciated. Stathis agrees.’

‘Hmm.’ Janaxia didn’t seem entirely convinced. Fortunately, she appeared herself, stepping out of the stairwell, Janaxia snapping the scroll closed and tucking it away.