The reports kept coming. They were bad. Half the great families had betrayed me—my friends, acquaintances, people with whom I had exchanged vows of support—they were the ones who sold me out, tried, died. It was so hard to accept that people let themselves be convinced so easily. None of them were certain they would receive help; they could not—we were all united in the pink sphere of power and authority emanating from my father. The families that loved me were now underground. The others—greedy, petty in their own way—knew that no help would come from above. Those carved their way to the top over millennia, so they quickly understood which way the wind was blowing... for now.
The inventory was almost ready. We had power, but it was limited. The magic that was returned to us, added to what we stole while outside this sphere of influence, was meager compared to the power we needed to succeed.
"That could change, young elf."
The voice came from somewhere. An attack?
"Of course it is. You are so caught up in your world that you don't know what surrounds you."
The voice was not pedantic—rather sweet, with the rough tones of humans. But she was right—the air seemed to vibrate, as if threats not only came from the sea. I went out shouting for everyone to prepare for combat. No one doubted—it was not time to question me. I took the best weapons and went out the high window of the oak where I was. As I climbed without considering my skin, my nails—nothing more than finding a position that would allow me to see what was happening, how to save us from this. Could we?
"Boy, I think I remember that your people have not presented themselves to the rest of the city only to buy what they need. Even in those cases, you have been alien to the city's life."
What does it matter! I whispered with fury. It was not as if we were used to being haggled with, to being robbed, to all the experiences we avoided just by killing anyone who looked at us wrong. But that possibility no longer existed. Just as I reached the top of the tree, I could see... it was horrible—an enormous mass, hundreds of arms waving, striking the containment field that kept out the minions of my father's friend. That powerful magic that eluded all my sages was faltering, as if it could not withstand the weight of something that could not have a name.
"It has one, elf. This is what ignorance can produce. It is an avatar—right before you stands the personification of stupidity."
I was about to tell him that humans deserved that, and those who believed in nonsense—but something stopped me. We put our faith in someone who only thought of himself. Today, claiming we were in superior conditions was laughable.
"Doubt... good. He will be held here for a few more minutes while I can reach an agreement with you."
An agreement? I told her I had no intention of sending my people to die against such a thing. Even the gratitude I had for saving our lives would not make me order them to die for the lives of those I did not know. To all those who were arming themselves, I had to show that they could trust at least one king—I did not intend to let them down.
"Boy, that is good to know. But I would not ask you to do it like that. Feel, understand, little elf. There are people sacrificing themselves at this very moment. Notice it, understand that subtle magic can do more for us at this moment."
First, I felt nothing. But little by little, it began to make sense. Judeus's field was intricate—like fabric woven within thousands of colors, each an instruction, something to allow or deny in his city. But outside, there was something—very faint, crude after contemplating the complexity. Even so, it was subtle magic. Few or none of my men would be able to make any defense against whatever it was trying to do.
"Ingenious, right? He is one of my new students—one of the good ones. He will know how to direct this. What he is preparing will take care of at least half the enemies outside. The rest will be up to you."
You cannot ask that! Human, understand that we are not even five hundred. Outside, there are how many—five thousand? That's discounting those my student is supposed to eliminate. Not even with my most refined weapons could I handle it. You are going to kill my people... we are not that strong.
"But you could be. Your magic did not evolve—you crusted over in a way of life that did not allow change. Elven magic is powerful, but aside from being used irrationally in the past, it exhausted all the magic that elves could use. So today, it is better to think that the elves of the Silver Leaf House could be the new links in the structure."
I wanted to refuse, but what good would it do? The lookouts had arrived dead from fear. The invading force disappeared over the horizon. Some of the detachments came without provisions; they had been seen eating the flesh of corpses. It was a giant wave. Foolish of me to think I could face them. In my best moment, I might eliminate a few hundred, but hundreds are not thousands. My estimates were meager; these were based on my sight, not on my surroundings. The entire surrounding area was full.
"Indeed. There are at least one or two million—all the remaining inhabitants of that continent, mistreated by dragons and ignorance. The oldest trees, at least, have resisted. In a few moments, the barrier will fall. Many of the enemies will leave, but I will not be able to eliminate them—not with this attacking me. However, what if I give you power? Not the garbage the Lich gave you, not the power you stored in your devices—it is power from a new branch of elves, a magical force like you never had, only your parents."
But that would not be possible. The most I could do was order a retreat, flee. But as I said this, my ears rang with the truth. Flee? Where? Escape like vermin while my father found us and put an end to the cowardice that apparently had not abandoned me. I asked the mage to provide me assistance. Five hundred—no matter how powerful—would be overwhelmed as soon as we began.
"True, but you are not alone. A contingent of at least your strength—those Forest Elves and a few priest commands—are lurking outside."
But—and I said it without offense—the Forest Elves do not have a fraction of our power. I did not understand how they could be useful, even with weapons and some power.
"Idiot! You still don't understand. They suffered centuries after you left the keep where you were locked up to die alive. Like you, they were trapped in the past—but no longer. If you must do something, king, it is to give equal treatment to everyone—not only to those who link you by status or blood... Accept. You know you never had to obey your father; he was what embodied greed and pettiness."
The words were tinged with desperation. I feared I was exhausting him. I was left with few options. I told myself it was for the additional power, that it had nothing to do with honor, honesty, pride—all while placing my troops in the main square, before the Whitecaps' tower. I knew they could protect many people. I hoped that would force them to protect us; we had to get out of here alive, not just win the battle... Live!
"Well thought. My boys are not fit for war, but they will not let you die. Listen, feel how it breaks. The same thing happens to rules if you apply enough force—that is why we must not abuse the power we have. It was conferred on us not for abuse, but for use. Our duty with power is the same as with the weak—that is where it should truly be used, for a better future."
I felt it—the explosion of the protection, it fell to pieces. All united in the thin, fragile figure of a human standing before us. I did not know how he got there; it seemed he had been there all along. But there was no time. As soon as I saw him, a net—blue as far as I could see—just activated. Multitudes of invaders stopped advancing; they were trapped. Immediately, there were attempts to break that control, but it seemed more like instructions than active control... So much to learn!
"Yes, boy. Knowledge does not betray. If one is faithful to the truth, real knowledge gradually imposes itself. It has no other alternative. It will tempt you, tell you there are easier things, less painful, with truths adapted to what is comfortable for us. But if we manage to confront it, what my student did is not impossible."
I was still marveling, but from their side, a few hundred arrows were fired. I gave the order; we all raised our shields, huddled in the lotus formation, praying that some pieces of wood and laminated metal would resist everything around us. The impacts were strong, but when I lowered my shield, a light covered it. Apparently, the protections were not a lie. I felt the force of the impacts, but neither flames, ice, nor metal pierced the protections. I almost smiled when a siege arrow took one of my soldiers from the edge. Then I began to give orders. The arrows we launched were only metal; a few placed some explosion spells due to the density of the enemies. Yet in their ascent, they took on many colors, bursting in the sky, raining down death... If these were those who did not know how to fight, I did not want to think about those who did.
"Well, boy. Take care of your people. I have to face two problems: one is the supply of magic this beast has—it comes from thousands of humans. The other is the force flowing from its troops and the vast, almost limitless magic of the entity known as Blancir. If you could hit its human batteries with a couple of arrows, I would appreciate it."
I could only look dumbfounded as these words resonated calmly, like drinking tea under cherry trees. The creature attacked at impossible speeds, but for some reason, his staff kept meeting them. It was not that he was very fast—he was just there. I did not question; it was not time. My bow was one of the few that had been saved, made of a flexible horn and whiskers from an extinct animal. It had enough power to launch an arrow over nine hundred meters. The enemy was less than two hundred meters away. No one approached. The few enthusiastic troops who tried were crushed by their own avatar. I imagined that was why Judeus walked—to cover all the areas where they could enter his city... impressive. But I would not lag behind. The arrows were from the royal collection, enchanted with speed and armor-penetrating runes—made to kill. They certainly had to eliminate those batteries—deposits—horrible things, swollen, shapeless, completely gone, leaving aside their dead eyes. But that was how it was. For a moment, I thought one of the arrows would be deflected by the creature's multiple arms' movement. But the Whitecap just walked a few steps like that, and suddenly the enemy's hands were several centimeters out of reach.
When they fell, I could see the Whitecap beginning to drain them... His body could not withstand such power! I saw his veins, how they swelled as he kept blocking the enemy's blows. Were humans capable of this? Did I understand why Father wanted them dead? Some of the enemies began to surround and approach the camp. Yet I heard their screams of agony. My scouts had orders to shoot and flee. But if Judeus did not do something, he would explode. One of his eyes had begun to weep blood. I shouted that it was enough, but he kept going until the figures became opaque, burned like used logs.
"Boy... you did well... Arghh! The best is yet to come."
As he spoke, an enormous light began to descend upon the figure, which began to develop more limbs of light, striking harder. The old man had not stopped staggering—he was going to die. But he would not be the only one. Most of those waiting fearfully outside the attack radius had received orders. As one, they charged. I saw them coming—armed, determined. My people must not fall here. I traced a rune that launched a line of light that cut everyone in half. It had not been used in centuries and had become an insult, not an attack. But from my hand, it launched—a cone of light, as large as the stories tell. It tore apart everyone at least fifty meters from our position. My troops did not understand; I did not either. But the old man—I could not calculate the age of beings who die before we are mature—had just fallen to his knees. His hands kept moving, but not for long. An enormous sphere of magic was forming above the avatar.
"Young one, yes—we die soon, but we live more intensely... You must help everyone, cooperate with the Forest Elves and even with the Dark Elves. My farewell gift will be to live and die for my city. Your payment is being given. As long as I live, I will destroy this pretentious god and help you become so strong that you will not need the slander of destruction to be... Please take care of my student. Be better than those who left. That is my retirement."
He was not joking. The power continued to flow. I felt that old enchantments I had read only for education suddenly were no longer impossible. But none of them served me—they did not protect... they were made to do harm. Useless elven history! I shouted at the terrified students to protect their master. Blood poured from his ears, and one eye no longer existed, but he kept defending himself. I insulted them, but they answered that they were not allowed to help him—all he had to do was protect us elves and those fighting. My cry of pain mixed with the hum of the sphere that fell upon the only one who believed in us. The greedy, the damned, the abandoned... Why did he not save himself?! He could have escaped or eliminated the troops from a safe distance, but that was not Judeus the Whitecap. I could still see him inside that light—he was feeding our bodies, the elves who hated him, the enslaved elves, those who joined the Overlord. He gave everyone a chance to live. So I would defend his city and his people... For goodness! For Greenleaf! Brothers, attack!