“Though the magic to allow breathing underwater is not so much an impediment. It can be readily enchanted on various pieces. The Sea Elves have ocean stones they enchant with runes, which simply encircle the individual within a few knots of their heads, to allow them to breathe underwater.” Lymarith noted. “It can be riskier to ascend into the clouds, but we can provide means of such travel.”
“You have aircraft?” I noted with interest. This was an asset I hadn’t expected, given their seemingly primitive technology and high reliance on magic.
“Air… craft?” Tavorwen noted. “I am unsure what you mean by that, but the magic of flight is widely known.”
My brain immediately went to images of Peter Pan floating and flying around London.
“Wait… so you can just… cast a spell and FLY?” I breathed.
“Yes.” Multiple of the elves responded simply, seemingly surprised at my reaction.
“Is that strange to you?” Narusil wondered.
“A little… okay, yeah, it’s weird, but there are lots of things here that are weird to me, but…” My mind raced.
“Couldn’t someone simply disrupt or break your spell and you’d fall to your death?” I wondered nervously.
“The residue of the magic slows your descent until you reach the ground, or at least until you reach the surface below you,” Risivis explained.
I looked around, “This… this is common knowledge here, isn’t it?”
They nodded with amusement.
“What is an aircraft?” Flendreir wondered.
The rest of the afternoon and into the evening was spent answering questions about helicopters, jets, bombers, commercial flights, and the marvels of air travel.
“This seems interesting, but… I suppose your people do not have teleportation, so it would be as good as you could get.” Creadean noted.
There was a wide variety of reactions in my house to the knowledge of aircraft, from dismissal as an unnecessary waste to an interesting potential. Questions leaned in both directions had sprung up repeatedly, wondering if there weren’t some technological way to replicate a simple spell, or if the technology could actually do something that was nearly, if not completely, impossible with magic. The debate was interesting and I learned a lot of interesting things.
For example, there was a simple spell, that even at its incredible highest would cause the air underneath you to form a cushion that would allow you to fall to the highest points in the sky and land unscathed. It was why mages were not afraid of falling. A common soldier, or even a commander, without a mage to protect them, could be undone in this way, but a knowledgeable mage would need to be on hand.
I wasn’t surprised that over hundreds of years, mages found creative ways to use magic to dispatch their foes. It seemed like the battle between skilled mages was a dance of strike, deflection, and counterstrike. As with most things, it seemed like unless one combatant made a blatant mistake, it was a matter of endurance.
“So, if there are ways to counter everything, why don’t you just put together protections about everything and just carry that at all times?” I wondered.
“Well, if you had a skilled enough mage, I suppose it is technically possible… but… everyone has their limits. For example, if you wanted a ring that could protect you from falling, give me a few days and I could make it.” Lymarith declared. “But if you wanted me to add in protection from poisons… I might be able to add that to the same ring, but it would take weeks, and even a single misstep could overload the ring’s capacity to carry and destroy the ring at least, and perhaps harm me in the process. Each subsequent protection makes the process even longer and more dangerous. So each soldier must choose which protections they carry and which they will have to set aside.”
Amura spoke up. “Protection from poison and probing of the mind are the most highly prized among my people. Next is protection from cold. Then protection from physical threats such as blades and arrows. Often, further protections are neglected in favor of carrying items that enhance our… their… abilities to attack.”
“Why wouldn’t you protect yourself from falling?” I gaped. “You can’t tell me no one has thought to throw a rival out one of the windows in the tower at El’Muth’Ran.”
Amura looked at me in interest. “Interesting, but the windows are far too small for an individual to pass through, and the only ones that ascend to the highest of the viewing deck are all either casters that could easily cast such magic themselves, or low-ranking servants… and slaves… who are not worth the effort.”
I noted not to use ice bullets against the Shadow Elves, if they were protected against the cold, they would be a poor choice.
Diamuitar called from the kitchen that dinner was ready, and I was startled to realize I hadn’t even noticed when she left. Nor had I noticed the sweet scent of fruit nectars that was wafting through the house.
Dinner was indeed mostly fruit, some plain and sliced to be sprinkled with spices and consumed, others simmered in a glaze of some kind that made them chewy and a little sticky if you weren’t careful and got them on your lip. As usual, the beverage was a mixed juice, sweet and tangy.
I was surprised by the variety of fruits. I knew back on Earth there were far more fruits than any supermarket in the USA would carry, my travels had taught me that, but in my week living with the elves I had tasted and tried more varieties of fruits than I would in an entire deployment to a different continent.
The conversation was mostly broken into smaller groups at the table, quietly discussing this or that, until Heilantu, who had been watching me for some time finally got up the guts to ask her question.
“How long do you think you will be gone, Master?”
I took a deep breath, I didn’t have a good answer for her.
“I hope not long. But as long as it takes.” I admitted.
“We should be safe to teleport to the western, probably south-western, edge of the forest, that should save us two days, but we know the Wild Elves had to abandon several of their settlements after the Massacre. We’ll have to go settlement by settlement until we find them. It might take us a week or two to find them…” Tavorwen admitted. “Then there will be the actual diplomacy. We don’t even know where we stand with them, so only the Gods could say how long that will take.”
There were glum faces among the Matrons who would have to stay behind.
“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure Master Thomas returns as quickly as possible,” Narusil assured them.
“Excuse me?” Diamiutar demanded, “Did you just say ‘we’? You are carrying his son! You will be going nowhere.”
“But!” Narisil started.
“Absolutely not.” Tavorwen agreed. “You are bearing our master’s firstborn and a son at that. I allowed your rashness before, but now that we know you carry a son, it is out of the question.”
Narusil was crushed.
“Our master will have nine battle Matrons with him.” Tavorwen declared. “He will be safe. We will see to it.”
I could feel her confliction. She clearly wanted to be there with me, but as her hand rubbed her tummy I could feel her accepting the fact of the matter. That didn’t mean it was frustrating and painful for her.
“When will you leave?” Lymarith asked quietly.
“Well, we have the meeting with the Council tomorrow to ensure I have their full cooperation tomorrow, and there is the Congress of Maidens the day after that. So, hopefully, the day after that?” I noted.
I felt somewhat embarrassed as I asked.
“Okay, so weird question… How many days are in a week here?”
The elves all looked confused.
“Um… Seven? How many are there in your home world?” Diamiutar replied.
“Seven,” I admitted with relief.
“Yes, there’s Dawnsday, Embersday, Mistday, Windsday, Stonesday, Sparksday, and Duskday.” She continued.
I almost groaned. Of course, they would be named differently. Couldn’t exactly expect a world that had never had a Norse people worshiping a god named Thor naming a day after him and having it eventually become Thursday.
“Okay once more on that.” I requested.
“Well, the week starts with Dawnsday.” She repeated.
Okay, Sunday… Dawn’s day… that wasn’t too bad. Monday was Embersday, Tuesday was Mistday, but at least Wednesday to Windsday wasn’t bad, Thursday became Stonesday, Friday was Sparksday, and Saturday was Duskday to end the week.
“A day to honor each of the major elemental forces. Dawn for life, Ember for flame, Mist for water, Wind for air, Stone for the earth, Spark for Lightning, and Dusk for Death.” Narusil explained.
I suppose it made as much sense as anything.
“So what day is today?” I asked.
“Today is Stonsday, Master,” Heilantu informed me.
Stonesday… So Council meeting on Sparksday, Congress for more matrons on Duskday and we’d be heading out on Dawnsday. That seemed good to me.