Welcome to Gaia! ::

that's right! Kirby's novel, though in need of a serious re-write, is finally available to the viewing public. that is to say, you. And maybe someone will actually believe me when I say I must have been on crack when i wrote this...because I sure as hell would not have written this in my normal state. Nevertheless, it was good practice, and the story pwns. If I do say so myself.

Do tell me if you read past the first few paragraphs, huh? I know it's obscenely long.

Thanks,
~Kirby

Put spaces between the paragraphs. I've been wanting to read it, but my eyes bleed from seeing the congestion of words on a computer screen. No offense. Since I see it was copied and pasted from Word (I've had the same problem)

Oh, sorry. Didn't know it would take that long... redface

You can e-mail it to me if you want: blckhwk89@aol.com

o____o;; Oh dear. Kirby.. don't kill the little children.

That was a good read. It gave away a little too much information a little too fast at the beggining for my tastes....then again I've never been accused of having "normal" preferences. It was good though.

Chapter Two is up! Woo! Thank you, internet. Too lazy to do italics, but I DID indent~


Chapter Two

That night, the stars reclined in the velvety blue sky, singing a silent song of midsummer night to the world as they shone their brightest. The last thing Kamilé and Everan wanted to do was go back to their treehouse, so they walked through town to see if anyone had thrown a midsummer feast regardless of what the elders had said. And sure enough, there were many lights on in the streets as they approached the center of town, and as they neared the square loud raucous voices came from around a corner. Then someone came from the square, almost knocking into them. They recognized the figure as Kayle.
“Hello, you two!” he said cheerfully. “Happy midsummer. I was just going to find the baker; we’re running a bit low on those little cakes she makes. Aren’t you going to join the party?”
“Sure,” Kamilé replied, craning her neck to catch a glimpse around the corner. Kayle grinned.
“Good, there’s nothing like a midsummer feast, no mater what the elders say. I’ll meet up with you two later, have fun!”
Humming along with the music floating from the square, Kayle disappeared.
Kamilé and Everan rounded the corner and found themselves right in the middle of all the festivities. Many multicolored lanterns hung from doorways and arches, sitting on every windowsill and ledge and throwing brilliant rainbows of light on everything and everyone. All of Kocha had come to celebrate midsummer tonight, it seemed. A small band, armed with flutes, drums, fiddles, and tambourines, struck up yet another song as they arrived. The tune was familiar to all, and the square rang with the chorus.

“Warm summer days warm summer nights,
To us summer is season of pure heart’s delight
But what day glows in the star’s brightest light?
That day when we celebrate midsummer night!”

The song was a favorite, and everyone joined in, regardless of their voices, already hoarse from singing. The band played it twice over, and yet when it ended everyone groaned. However, as the next song, much faster than the last, began to play, the dance floor became crowded once again.
Though Kamilé and Everan arrived very late, they stayed until the end, which came a few hours later. When elves decide to have a celebration, it doesn’t end lightly, and everyone in Ametris can confirm it. The two finally left at midnight, along with most of the other elves, and walked across the city and through the woods until they reached the treehouse. Everan fell asleep almost at once, and Kamilé could slowly feel her eyelids dropping, despite how hard she tried to keep them up. She finally gave in, drifting off to the realms of dreamless sleep.

No one was more disappointed than the children of Kocha to return to school the day after next. However, return they did, still chatting enthusiastically about the huge celebration in the square. And what was more; the next celebration was less than a week away. Marli had taken it upon herself to tell them all about it.
“The Ametrisan Unity Festival,” she told them, “has been held for over three thousand years. It is held to celebrate the end of the Thousand Years’ War. The elves, from whom the first chosen came, started the tradition, and after the festival was held for the first time in these woods, it was decided that the four races would take turns holding it; first us, the elves, then humans, then merpeople, and finally, the dwarves. This year it is our turn.
“The dwarves are already hiking down the mountains and across the plains as we speak, and the humans usually take a ship down the Iiyana River. The merpeople have their own special way. Who can tell me what way that is?”
The classroom was silent for a moment, and then a small boy in the front took a guess. “Do we dig a big pond for them in the square so they can swim?” he asked.
Marli smiled. “Close, but no. The merpeople have many gifts that most people know nothing about. The most interesting one is the ability to make a certain kind of bracelet, made from a special type of mineral that grows like a plant at the bottom of Lake Astriem. This mineral, when wrought into the right shape, usually a ring or bracelet, allows a merman or maid to grow legs and stay above water for twenty-four hours. It also is believed to have the reverse effect on humans and most likely elves, though the dwarves have never bothered to test it for their own race. It is an amazing mineral, known by the merpeople as transmuting ore. The merpeople make these every year, and after swimming down the river with the humans’ ships, they put them on and walk into Kocha just like all the others.”
As she finished, she was faced with complete silence, though whether bored or amazed it was hard to tell. However, she apparently considered it an amazed one, and moved on to the next subject.
“The first chosen started the tradition after he received his calling from the deities. He arrived at this very city, though then it was only a gathering place, and told all his fellow elves what had taken place, for all the beings on Ametris had woken up with no memory of the war.”
Marli suddenly felt as if she was losing her audience, and asked unexpectedly, “Does anyone know the name of the first chosen, by the way?”
The sleepy silence was replaced with a shocked one; no one knew the answer. Kamilé looked about and saw confused faces all around. But I know it, she told herself. And to her own surprise and everyone else’s, she raised her hand.
“Kamilé?”
“The first chosen was named Haenir, Professor.”
“That’s right!” said Marli, apparently impressed. “Haenir called together all the humans, dwarves, merpeople, and elves, and they gathered in Serra Woods for a celebration that lasted for three days and nights. During that time frame, many things began changing on Ametris, but only Haenir saw. This was when Ametris became covered in fog, when the forest began to grow back, when the dwarves gained their longevity—oh, it means they live longer than usual,” she explained, as the small boy in the front raised his hand. “Haenir alone remembered the war, and he did not want us, the four races, to forget, in case it happened again, so he wrote a book. This book was later continued by Vane, daughter of Ilean, and it is now in our library.”
Not anymore, Kamilé thought. Everan sent a vague agreement and suddenly without warning took the book out of his bag and began to read. Kamilé could not see what he was doing, as he was on the other side of the room, but figured it out when he began reading.
“A History of Ametris, by Haenir, the First Chosen, and modified by Vane, daughter of Ilean…”
He got no further, as Marli, who had been walking towards him with all the silence and grace of a deer, suddenly snatched it from him. “And look what we have here; it’s the very book itself. Well thank you, Everan. No reading during class.”
Kamilé was astonished at the completely uncharacteristic act. What did you do that for? You know she can spot someone who isn’t paying attention right away!
I know. Didn’t you hear her say that she wished she had the book with her?
No, she didn’t say that.
She didn’t? Well that’s funny, I heard her….
Marli turned the pages, scanning Vane’s neat handwriting. “This book tells of the cause, duration, and outcome of the Thousand Years’ War. Most surprising is the outcome; before the war Ametris had more than 1,100,000 inhabitants, but after the war there were only 100,000. If you do the math, that’s over one million people that died, over one thousand years. That’s astonishing for a war, though it was the only one we ever had. I assume, Kamilé, that you know the cause of the war?”
Kamilé was surprised once again that she had been called upon, but she felt confident that she knew the answer. “A human named Aven persuaded the people of Leigh to rebel against their governor. Merista wanted to do the same, and eventually it led to war.”
“Very good. That’s the beginning; the middle is something amounting to total domination of the island. Then, after almost a thousand years, Haenir was born. He was nothing special then, but when his town, Trieth, on the northern edge of the forest, was attacked, he managed to stop the whole war. And now, it is time for lunch.”
The whole class, listening with head on hands, looked up, startled out of its half-awake trance. The students trailed outside, spreading out to eat their lunches in the shade of the trees. Kamilé remained behind, walking up to Marli’s desk.
“Professor, what do you mean, Haenir stopped the whole war?”
Marli smiled, taking out the book once again. She flipped through the pages idly. “Oh, I don’t know that much about it, Kamilé,” she said lazily. She stopped at a page and folded the corner down. “You read this page and tell me about it. Oh, wait!”
She reached into a drawer and pulled out a necklace, a thin silver chain with a medallion on it, a circle with a hairline crack down the middle. On one side was a dot of white on a black background, and on the other was a dot of black on a white background. She unfolded the page, placing the necklace in the book as a bookmark. “This symbol is called the Heart of Ametris. You’ll find out about it at the festival. Don’t you lose this.”
“Thank you, Professor.”
Kamilé took the book and went outside, meeting Everan under an oak tree. What did Marli want? he asked.
I asked her how Haenir stopped the war and she found the page for me. She gave me this. Kamilé held up the necklace.
What is that?
Marli said that it’s called the Heart of Ametris. She told me never to lose it. I don’t know what it’s for.
We can ask her later. Here, let me see the book.
Kamilé handed him the book, placing the necklace between the pages again. Everan found the place and began to read.
“The city of Trieth lay on the southern border of the mountains, the last elven village in the human’s respective territory. It was attacked by human forces first, around the middle of winter. Dwarven troops came to help the humans soon after. Haenir--”
What’s the matter? Why did you stop?
Look. I can’t read it.
Kamilé looked at the page. Indeed, half of it was covered in symbols. It was impossible to decipher.



Kamilé reached out and turned the page. The next page was covered in symbols too. She kept turning the pages until she reached one that was covered in readable Ametrisan.
“After that, the elves took it and placed it in the center of their town, where it rests to this day.”
Is that it? Kamilé was astounded.
No, there are dates and things back here, and a list of all the chosen up until 6000 or so, then it stops.
What is all the code for?
I don’t know.
Why can’t we read it? Or, more importantly, why shouldn’t we?
Maybe we aren’t the right people. For some reason, he laughed aloud at this.
“What’s so funny?” Kamilé asked. But then she realized that she had said this in her mind, while another voice said it aloud. Syla stood in front of them, and it was she that had issued the demand.
“What’s in this book anyway?” She took the book from Kamilé’s surprised grasp and looked at it. “Why is it all in code?”
“You’re reading it upside down,” Kamilé pointed out. Syla hastily turned the book the right way. “I still can’t read it, what is it, your secret language? And what’s that?”
“Syla, give me that!” Kamilé said fiercely, standing at once, for Syla held the necklace in her hand.
“I like it. I think I’ll keep it,” she said with a nasty smile. Syla had always been a bully to them, and since she was for some reason the most popular girl in the class, all the others followed her lead and mercilessly ignored Kamilé and Everan.
“Give it back,” said Everan unexpectedly. Syla should have listened to him, for he would never say something aloud if it wasn’t important.
“Syla!” Marli came suddenly out of the schoolhouse, stopping behind Syla. “What’s in your hand?”
“My necklace, Professor,” said Syla innocently; unaware that it was Marli who had given the necklace away in the first place.
“Give it here, Syla, the book too.” Syla did not obey at once, looking surprised at the harsh tone in her teacher’s voice.
“Syla, give it here!” Syla recognized the danger this time, and quickly handed over both necklace and book. Marli took them, and both Kamilé and Everan guessed that she was holding back her anger as best as she could.
“I’ve already warned you about bullying once, Syla. Don’t make me do it again. Now go inside.”
Syla ran inside as if a pack of wolves were on her tail. Marli took a deep breath, closing her eyes. After a moment she opened them and handed the book to Everan.

“Be careful with that, it’s very old. Now, Kamilé, I told you to keep this necklace safe, and I meant it. I’m not scolding you, but I want you to know that there are bullies worse than Syla, and those won’t be afraid of me. Here,” she added, crouching down and fastening the necklace around Kamilé’s neck. “I’ll tell you again, don’t lose it,” she said with a small smile. She turned on her heel and walked back towards the schoolhouse.

Kamilé unconsciously closed her hand over the necklace. “That was close,” she said aloud. Everan nodded. She pulled her bag over and rummaged around in it, drawing an apple out of it. Time for lunch at last. I’m starving.

Marli at that moment came out of the schoolhouse. “Lunch is over, come inside!” she called.

Of course.

Don’t worry, Kami, we still have arithmetic to look forward to!

Kamilé groaned, reluctantly following him inside.

Marli wrote ten problems on the board and instructed them to finish by the end of class. Kamilé was devastated when she saw them.

Multiplication!

It’s okay, Kami, I’ll help you.

How are we supposed to do this one? Sixteen times nine? She stared in disbelief at the bark parchment in front of her.

It’s easy. I’ll show you. First, what’s nine times six?

Fifty-four.

So put the four down and carry the five…

Marli sat behind her desk, reading a book, oblivious that two of her students were talking in a constant stream. Soon, Everan and Kamilé had finished.

Thanks, Everan, said Kamilé gratefully. Everan had always been the smart one.

No problem.

Kamilé pulled out the history book from her bag and began to read the section for the beginning of the Thousand Years’ War, taking a bite of her apple now and then. Everan listened with interest as she read, though she was much slower than him. Eventually, Marli tore herself from her book and said, “Turn in your papers, everyone, finished or not. Class dismissed.”

The students handed her their papers, covered in numbers, cross-outs and mistakes of all kinds, and then dashed out the door to begin the afternoon. Kamilé only remembered as they were heading down the path,
Everan, we forgot to ask Marli about the code!

Oh, right. Let’s go back.

Marli was still inside, that they could see from a window. But before they could enter, the front door burst open, admitting an anxious Kayle. Marli jumped and hastily stood from her desk, looking worried.

“Marli!” he exclaimed excitedly. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Listen, I have a problem. Kamilé and Everan got a hold on that book about the chosen!”

Marli sighed impatiently, sliding the stack of papers on her desk into a drawer. “So?”

“So? You know they aren’t supposed to read that one!”

“And why not?” Marli challenged him. “You of all elves shouldn’t tell anyone what they can and cannot read, Kayle.”

“The elders specifically said not to let them have it! They can’t read it, they told me!”

“Why can’t they? I’ve taught them how to read very well, thank you, and they are more than capable of it!”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know exactly what you mean, Kayle, but the point is that they can read whatever they want them to. If you want it back, find them and tell them it’s due tomorrow. But don’t expect me to take it away from them.”

Kayle sighed in exasperation. “I’m not trying to limit them, Marli, I just don’t want to disobey the elders. And I didn’t want you to take it, I wanted to know why you suggested it to them.”

“Suggested it?”

“Yes, Kamilé told me that you had mentioned a book about the chosen in the library, and they were curious.”

“And what if I did?”

Kayle’s eyes opened wide. “You did? Marli, you know it’s illegal--”

“I don’t care! I teach history, and I can tell you, if history has taught us anything, it’s that some rules are meant to be broken, and this is one of them! We should have told them a long time ago; in fact, if Carn asks, tell him I said that, give him my exact words!”

Kayle sighed. “Why’d you tell them, Marli? Will you tell me that?”

Marli looked down at her desk, her light gold hair falling down to hide her face. “In all fairness, I mentioned it to everyone in my class at the time. Kamilé and Everan were the only two that were interested. Sometimes I feel like I’m only talking to those two, none of the others really listen to me. But they do, and they have a right to know everything I can tell them, no matter what the elders want.”

Kayle looked as if there was nothing more to say. “Carn will be mad if he finds out.”

“Let him get angry then. And is that all you needed to tell me?”

“That’s all. ‘Bye, Marli. Have a nice day.”

“And the same to you.”

Kayle left. Marli sat back behind her desk, took out the papers and began checking them as if nothing had happened.

I think Marli likes us, Everan observed.

Yeah, I guess she does. It felt strange to say that about someone, and Kamilé realized with a jolt that she had never known before that anyone liked her or Everan. It was strange, but not unpleasantly so.

We’d better go, said Everan. They snuck off, heading back north up the path.

What was that all about? asked Kamilé.

Well, I’m not sure, but I think we should leave that book alone for now.

Why?

You want to look, don’t you?

You know me all too well.

Well, don’t. Whatever it is, one of the elders will tell us when they think we’re ready.

Sure they will, Kamilé thought sarcastically. All right, I won’t look. I promise.

Upon reaching the oak tree that bore their home, they were reluctant to climb up. There was nothing to do up there aside from going to sleep. So instead they sat on a low branch and talked with each other until it grew dark. Then and only then did they head for bed, and when they did it was very reluctantly. However, they didn’t mind so much after they fell asleep, surrendering the memories of the day to the land of dreams.

Over the next few days, all anyone could talk about was the upcoming celebration. The sleepy town of Kocha was coming alive, every resident joining in the preparations. Every tiny detail was watched over and cared for, and under the elves’ watchful eyes the town began to transform.
Every house was suddenly shining, the windows scrubbed clean and the doorsteps and pathways swept. Colored lanterns and ropes of summer flowers appeared on every door and window. Extra rooms in every tavern and inn were cleared, dusted, and furnished properly, ready for the use of travelers. An air of excitement hung over the entire forest from one end to the other.
Meanwhile, Kamilé and Everan had given up trying to decode the cryptic symbols in the history book. They had read everything else aside from it, but the code was obviously an important part in the book, and it was impossible to guess what lay between the beginning of the encrypted text and the last few lines at the end of the book. The two put the book aside, intending to return it whenever the chance arose. Kamilé dutifully kept the necklace safe around her neck, though she had no idea how long she was to keep it.
The excitement and anticipation infected everyone, so that on the day before the celebration Marli was hard put to get the schoolchildren to learn anything. Eventually she gave up, allowing them to do whatever they wished for the last few minutes of class, before opening her book once again and hiding behind it, ignoring the sudden outburst of talking, laughing, and scraping of chairs as the little elves gathered into groups and chattered about the celebrations. After a time, Marli declared defeat and told the class to go home, which they did cheerfully, dashing away to help their families prepare for the next day.
Kamilé and Everan were in no hurry to leave, but as there was nothing to do about it they trailed out after the rest. They had just started up the path when Everan stopped.
I forgot something. Will you come back with me to get it?
Sure, what’d you forget?
I need to check on something. Come on.
Everan dashed back up the path, Kamilé following behind. Marli was gone, though temporarily, for she had left her papers, notebook, and books on her desk. Everan had his eyes on the novel as he pushed the door open and entered the schoolhouse. He snatched the book and went outside. Kamilé had stood by the window, waiting for him, and she remained there as he closed the door behind him, staring in astonishment.
Everan, what was that all about?
Look, Kami, look at her book!
Kamilé took the book in her hands, searching for anything unusual about it. She noticed that the front was bound with leather, instead of polished wood, like all the other books in Kocha, and the pages were made of something smoother than parchment. And then she saw it.



The title of the book was written in the strange code they had seen in the history book. She flipped through the pages; all of them were covered in the strange symbols. She looked in amazement at Everan.

Marli can read this?

Obviously she can. We can ask her how to translate it after the celebration is over.

But she wanted us to tell her what it meant.

Well, she’s probably the only one that can read this. We have to try, at least.

Where is this code from, anyway?

I don’t know. But we’ll find out sometime, don’t worry.

Hurry, put Marli’s book back before she comes to get it.

Everan dashed in, placed the book exactly where it had been before and shut the door carefully behind him. They set off again onto the path, still filled with curiosity about the symbols.

When I saw Marli reading that book, I recognized the code. I wonder how she knows it?

That’s what I’d like to know.

We’ll ask her the first day back, all right?

All right. Do we have anything to do tonight?

Hm…the treehouse is clean, so we’re prepared if anyone stops by on their way to the party.

If we want visitors, we should move into a smaller tree.
Or maybe we should move underground. That way someone will drop in every time they walk over our roof.
Kamilé laughed at this, following Everan up the tree. They entered the treehouse, full of energy but with nothing to do. In the end, and after a short, though one-sided argument between the two, they conceded to read some of their other library book, The Chosen Revived. In it were the tales of a few of the chosen, those who had actively protected Ametris from evil. Most prominently of all was Haenir, the first chosen, who the author seemed to be very fond of. Haenir had helped enormously to pull the island together after the war. Then his daughter, Marsol, had become the second chosen and followed in his stead.

However, much to their surprise, not a single tale was told about whatever he did during the war that had made him famous. In fact, though this was why he was well-known, not a single elf in the village had ever mentioned it except Marli. It had not even been in the history book…
Kamilé, Everan thought suddenly, giving her the book while he searched for the other one.
Yes?
Did you notice that no one ever told us anything about what Haenir did in the war besides Marli? And did you notice that the history book leads right up to it before transferring to code?
So what’s that mean, then?
It means that Marli knows a lot we don’t. I wonder what else she’s hiding? The other language, the story about Haenir…
I guess she read it in the history book and then told us about it. Maybe that language is old Ametrisan or something.
No, Ametris only ever had one language. We never had any reason to change it.
Oh. And the necklace too. What did Marli mean when she said it’s “the Heart of Ametris”?
She said we would find out at the celebration tomorrow.
Oh, good, then we’ll find out soon.
Everan had begun poring over the encryption again, reading from right before it started to after it reverted to Ametrisan again. Kamilé still had the other book in her lap, but she had lost the page. She flipped through the book idly, until something caught her eye.
A dozen or so pages had been devoted to rows of large symbols and signs, and underneath each was a small description. The first one on the page she was reading had a picture of a plain circle, perfectly round, with a line going strait across it. The description read, Mark of Chosen Ryle, son of Isendur, 4689 A.T. Found on the right cheek, as a scar. No precedent.
Kamilé turned the page back, intrigued, and found the first page of signs in the book. There was one that looked like a flower, one like a star, three triangles, and even a few jagged and straight lines. But one in particular caught her eye.
Everan, look! Everan glanced up from the history book, curiosity in his expression. She showed him the first in the row of symbols.
“Chosen Kilio and Chosen Tara, 6960 A.T., first pair of chosen to be born in the history of Ametris. Crescent mark located on the center of the forehead.” Everan, the two chosen a hundred years ago had this scar on their foreheads!
What of it?
Well, so do you! And so do I!
She pushed back her hair to show him a thin crescent shape on her forehead, the white scar showing clearly against her tan skin.
How did you know I had it? Everan asked in surprise.
I saw it once. Besides, you can’t hide anything from me.
You didn’t tell me that you had that too, even though I already knew.
I knew you knew. That’s why I didn’t tell you.
But anyway, what’s the big deal?
Don’t you get it? Both of us have the same mark in the same place as the first pair of chosen ever born!
Everan unconsciously rubbed the mark on his forehead. It’s interesting and everything, but not particularly astounding.
Oh, never mind, said Kamilé resignedly. Nothing ever surprises you. She turned back to the book, carefully observing the marks on the pages. Everan, too, returned to the book before him, flipping idly from page to page as he tried to decipher the cryptic symbols. After a while, gleaning nothing from their searches, the two agreed to head off to bed. Everan fell asleep at once, sending a last, practical thought to Kamilé before drifting off. Don’t stay up too late, tomorrow’s a long day.
But Kamilé could not sleep, try as she might; there was too much to think about. She gazed through a gap in the oak tree’s branches at a sliver of the moon as she let thoughts chase endlessly about her head, until eventually both her mind and body had become exhausted and she reluctantly gave herself up to the darkness of deep slumber.

Kamilé woke the next morning with a start, catching a thought from Everan that had leaked through into her dreams.
Kami, wake up!
She pulled the blanket over her head, curling up underneath in a small, warm ball as Everan persisted. I warned you that today would be long, so why’d you stay up late?
I couldn’t sleep.
Come on, Kami, the celebration starts in half an hour, remember?
Kamilé reluctantly abandoned the bed and got up. Everan was feeding their fireflies from a little jar of watery honey they kept on the shelf. He looked much the same as usual, his only hint of formality being that he had worn the shirt without any holes in it. Kamilé pulled on a red tunic, which she wore only for occasions like this one, with dark green leaves embroidered around the hem and neck, branching out into tiny white flowers. She tied a woven belt around her waist and put on her shoes, plain, tough sandals, which was with her a rare gesture. She brushed her hair out, letting it hang freely down her back.
Ready when you are, she told Everan cheerfully. It was only ten minutes until dawn, when the celebrations started, and they did not expect to reach Kocha in time. But they had no intention of rushing, taking their time as they carefully descended onto the ground and started down the path. They picked a handful each of blackberries along the way, though they were careful not to get the purple juice on their hands or clothes.
They were amazed at the gaiety with which the town was adorned as they reached the outskirts of Kocha. Normally, the houses were unrecognizable from the trees that grew beside them, but today they could hardly not be seen, so bedecked with garlands of leaves and flowers were they, and with the small glass and crystal ornaments in the windows shining like diamond.
Once upon a time it had been impossible to tell how large Kocha really was, simply because no one could tell when the houses began to appear between the trees. This was, in a sense, Kocha’s greatest advantage, as the only way to find the town for certain was to walk right in the middle of its square. Now, however, the impossible was getting lost, if the destination was the center of town.
The main square of Kocha was something like a carnival, certainly happy and noisy enough to qualify, and more people than the square could hold were milling around, despite the early hour, and waiting for the celebrations to start. All were joyful, laughing, singing, and dancing to the music that floated from somewhere in the center of the massive crowd. Mostly present were elves and humans, the elves completely at home no matter from where in the forest they had come, the humans gathering in large groups to talk excitedly together, telling jokes and exchanging tales of their adventures since the last celebration. The occasional dwarf trundled by, barely reaching to passing elves’ shoulders. They called to mind nothing so much as a large, moving rock, with their short, stocky builds, brown skin, and hair and beards of either earthy brown or stone gray.
But most stunning of all were the merpeople, maybe a score of them altogether, and it was mostly they who were laughing and dancing. Their hair was either whitish-yellow or a shade of light or dark green, and was long and appeared to be wet. On land, the women were clad in long dresses made of something like woven seaweed with coral bits sewn in, which reached down to the ground and hid their feet. The men were shirtless, and wore long pants that seemed also to be made from seaweed, but shone like fish scales in the early sunlight. All of them had a distinct fishy quality about them, though it was hard to say what made it so clear; the way they moved so gracefully, as if swimming in the air, the way their hair moved about them as if underneath water, or their voices, reminiscent of the sound of water flowing over rocks, and seemed to be faint, as if it came from under the surface of a lake. Each and every one wore a bracelet of something that looked like obsidian or jet studded with blue-green gems, but was really of the transmuting ore that Marli had told her class about.
Kamilé and Everan stared at the passersby, never having seen a member of another race before. Since they had decided that the humans were not too different from elves, and since there were so few dwarves about, they found themselves concentrating on the merpeople, completely fascinated by them. And indeed, the merpeople had not gone through many pains to look normal; they stood out in the crowd, their musical, underwater voices rising above the rest.
“Excuse me,” said one such voice politely, and Kamilé and Everan turned to see a tall merman standing behind them. He was very young-looking, as were most of the merpeople, and had light gold hair with a greenish tint behind it. He bowed elegantly to them and said, “My name is Italis. Are you two Kamilé and Everan?”
Kamilé bowed also, answering for the both of them, “Yes, sir. Can we help you with something?”
Italis regarded them thoughtfully. “Ah, yes. I need to find Elder Carn. Do you know where he is?”
Kamilé gestured to the very center of the square, where a raised platform had been erected. “He should be over there, sir, but I think he’s busy. The celebration is about to begin.”
“Oh, then I’ll wait. By the way…” he added, slipping off two of his bracelets from his arm, on which he had several, “Here. These may come in handy one of these days.” He fastened one onto Kamilé’s wrist for her, handing the other to Everan. “As soon as you start to lose your breath underwater, these bracelets will allow you to become something like us for a whole day. I hope it proves useful to you at some point.”
“Thank you, Italis,” said Kamilé, and Everan nodded in agreement. Italis bowed once more.
“Now, I must find Carn. Good day, Kamilé and Everan.” He turned and walked away from them, leaving Kamilé, at least, very confused.
How did he know us?
I suppose Carn told him about us. It was nice of him to give us these, Everan added, twisting his bracelet absently as he gazed at the aquamarine stones studding it.
It was. But it was the last thing I expected.
I don’t think another race has ever had one of these before. We’re lucky.
Yes, I suppose. And it could be useful, if we ever got into trouble.
I don’t think it was that as much as a sort of offering. If we ever come across a stranger, they’ll know we’re friends of the merpeople.
It’s a bit strange. Of all the people in Kocha today—
Kamilé was interrupted as silence fell over the large crowd, and all talking, singing, and music ceased as a small group walked onto the dais in the heart of the square. Elder Carn was there, holding something wrapped protectively in a red cloth, along with a strong-looking dwarf with a gray beard, a tall woman with long gold hair and a richly embroidered dress, and Italis, who was, apparently, the leader of the merpeople. Elder Carn raised his hands for silence, though it had already fallen.
“Good day, all of you, elves, humans, dwarves, and merpeople,” he began. “I am Elder Carn, of the elves. May I introduce Lady Lina, the governor of Merista--” Lina, the tall golden-haired woman, raised a cheerful hand in acknowledgement. There was enthusiastic applause from the humans in the crowd, along with polite, more subdued applause from the others. “--Goba, the Dwarven Lord--” Goba bowed regally to the crowd in acknowledgement to the dwarves’ gruff shouts. “—And Italis, the Merchieftain.”
Many voices broke out like bubbles on the surface of a lake as the merpeople praised their leader. Italis smiled, nodding his head to the crowd below. Carn continued with his speech.
“Today, we gather for the purpose of celebrating the end of the war three thousand years ago, when, as we all know, Ametris became what it is today; a peaceful, happy country untroubled by evil. We meet on this day in the tradition of the first chosen, who after the war gathered all the Ametrisans in this very forest for a feast to celebrate the newfound peace.”
What’s in his hands? Kamilé asked, curious.
I suppose we’ll find out soon.
“…And then, the craftsmen of Ametris banded together and made this, the symbol of our country, and what we call the Heart of Ametris…”
Wait, isn’t that what Marli called—
Kami, look! Everan cut across her excitedly as Carn unwrapped the cloth from around the object. A large silver circle shone in the early sun, one side covered in some dark stone, obsidian maybe, with a silver circle in the midst of the blackness, and likewise, on the other side, a black circle shone in the middle of the silver. However, Carn held it in both his hands, and the reason why became apparent as he raised the object higher. It was split neatly in half, between the two sides, and Carn seemed to be purposely trying to keep the pieces apart.
It looks just like my necklace! exclaimed Kamilé, pulling out her medallion and showing it to Everan. The two were indeed exactly alike, save that Kamilé’s was whole and the other was not.
“This is a representation of the deities’ gift,” explained Carn. “It symbolizes that there is evil in righteousness,” here he raised slightly the silver half, “and there is also the urge to do right in darkness,” this said as he raised the black half. “Ametris has been this way for thousands of years. This is the very foundation we set ourselves on, our gift of impartiality. The lack of righteousness is a small price to pay for the disappearance of wickedness. For, as is the foremost teaching of Ametris, where there is evil there must also be good, but when there is only good it must always search for evil.
“There is another legend we hold dear, pertaining to only today. When the artists made this crest, it is said that they infused it with the power to return the deities’ gift to us, if it ever left us. This is, no doubt, why it is the island’s most treasured possession. Every year, the pieces are joined together, as tradition, though nothing has ever come of it. However…”
Carn raised the pieces once more. “Shall we try again?”
Loud cheers came from every corner of the square. All were curious about the mysterious crest. Carn slowly brought his hands together as the crowd watched, holding its collective breath. The pieces fit together perfectly, the two sides joining into one whole circle.
Absolutely nothing happened.
The disappointment was almost tangible as the crowd sighed and groaned. But Carn seemed undeterred, separating the circle into its respective pieces once more. “Fear not. One day, when we have need of it, it will not let us down. But for now, we have nothing to regret, sorrow, or repent. Let us celebrate together the end of the Thousand Years’ War, and the beginning of our Ametris!”
Shouting, stamping, and applauding rang throughout the square, every one of them cheering at the top of their voice. Carn laid the two halves of the circle on a special holder, made for this occasion alone. Anyone could see it now, from any direction or angle they wished.
But no one wanted to see that anymore, for all about them were good friends, wonderful food, and loud, joyous music. Every delicacy Kocha had to offer was laid on tables lining the square, the dishes resting between wreaths of summer flowers and dried leaves and grasses. Here and there were bowls of iced juices, teas, and a special drink, the elves’ specialty, which they made by flavoring water from the river with many different fruits. Barrels of ale, wine, and a few cordials had been rolled out, and someone had thoughtfully placed a large bowl of clear water from the well next to these, with a single white lily floating in it for decoration.
As for the food…good cooks though they were, the elves had outdone themselves, some even creating their own new recipes that none other had tasted before. Pots of soup, both of vegetable and herb, were placed, still steaming, between plates piled high with salad, next to which were many rolls, pastries, cakes, and scones of all flavors. Here and there were cheeses, from golden yellow to pale, nut-studded white. And between all of this was a wide array of sweets, tiny sugar-coated cakes, small bowls of crystallized fruits and nuts, tarts, trifles, with layers of pastry, fruit, and cream one on top of the other, and freshly picked strawberries beside tiny bowls of sweet cream and honey. It was enough to make any mouth water, even with different races together there, each having their own tastes according to culture. And though it was doubtful that the other races took well to the elven food, not a word was said against it. The cooks stood by the tables, proud of their skill, accepting praise and thanks whenever offered.
The midsummer feast of a few days ago could not hope to compare with this. While midsummer was only one day, the celebration at hand was meant to last at least three. Traditionally, the festivities ended when everyone went home, and not a second before. After all, as it had always been said, when elves throw a party it’s worth going to.
Most went to bed comparatively early, retiring to home or inn at sunset, but many stayed, and from the music, dancing, and laughter ringing out, anyone would have guessed that they were having the time of their lives.

End part one, it was a liiiiiittle long...