Sample Collection
A Tale of Faytaisie
Jeriel Lyndryll strode through the forest, his soft leather boots treading the faint path that led home. With a sigh, he adjusted the leather strap that held his broadsword on his back, rolling his shoulders to relieve stiffness. He stretched, lifting his long golden hair to allow the cool breeze under the trees to dry the perspiration on the back of his neck. The young Elf had spent the previous day in the Siren city of Wyyss, watching the Spring Games. Spending time at the Games with the energetic, winged Sirens was pleasant, yet exhausting, and the walk home was lengthy.
An unfamiliar crackling sound brought him out of his thoughts. He had never heard anything like it, and it made him uneasy. He didn’t really expect an attack so close to home, but anything was possible. Under pretense of shifting the weight again, he reached up and loosened his sword in its sheath.
A figure stepped from the trees in front of Jeriel. His general shape was that of an Elf, but he had never seen an Elf like this. The stranger’s clothing was tight, so tight it surely was uncomfortable — Elves favoured loose fabrics for ease of movement. He wore his dark hair closely cropped — Elves never cut their hair. He was shorter than a Siren — the top of his head barely reached Jeriel’s chin. He held an odd-looking black thing in his right hand, and it was pointed at Jeriel’s chest, which gave the impression that it was some sort of weapon, although it looked more like an odd sort of fish.
“Don’t move,” the stranger warned. “And don’t touch the blade.” He waved the black fish-like thing in a threatening manner that was almost comical.
Jeriel kept his face blank, his hands hanging loosely at his sides, well away from the sword but within a finger’s width of the dagger in his belt.
The stranger pointed the black thing at a rock in the path, and a narrow beam of bright light erupted from it, striking the rock. Immediately, the rock vanished, leaving nothing but a blackened spot on the ground. The stranger once again pointed the weapon at Jeriel. He waved his free hand toward the trees and four more of the strange Elves stepped forth. They wore identical clothing, and carried the same strange weapons.
Jeriel willed his face blank and his voice steady. “Who are you? What do you want with me?”
“We’re Humans,” the first one said. “I’m Lieutenant Larry Thompson. Nothing personal; we just need some samples of native life.” He turned toward the others. “Anderson, take the sword.”
Jeriel stood quietly while his broadsword was removed. It would be useless against the Humans’ weapons. Besides, he still had the dagger in his belt and a knife in his boot.
Lieutenant Larry Thompson pulled a small black box from his pocket and slowly waved it at Jeriel. “Well, well,” he said. “Armed to the teeth, are we?” He stepped forward, and pulled the dagger from Jeriel’s belt-sheath, then stooped and took the knife from his boot.
“What is that?”
“Metal detector.” Lieutenant Larry Thompson smirked, then motioned with his fire-breathing fish, having tucked the Elf’s knife and dagger into his own belt. “Start walking.”
Seeing no other option, Jeriel did as ordered. The Humans fell into step around him, guiding and watching him. All of them except Lieutenant Larry Thompson had placed their weapons in things that looked like over-sized sheaths that hung from their belts within easy reach. Lieutenant Larry Thompson carried his in his right hand, pointed at the Elf. An attempt to escape would be foolish.
What did the Humans want with him? Why would anyone kidnap someone at random? He wished he could get his hands on one of those fire fish.
While he was pondering this, they stepped off the path and through the trees. Before them stood a small round building made out of metal. He stopped, staring. How could such a building have been built? He couldn’t even imagine the work a blacksmith would have to do to create even one wall. As he pondered this enigma, a door slid open and a bridge extended to the ground. The bottom of the door was at least two feet from the ground. Why not just make the door flush with the ground so that a bridge was not necessary?
“Inside,” Lieutenant Larry Thompson said, gesturing toward the door. Seeing no other options, Jeriel mounted the bridge and ducked through the doorway to enter the building. Inside, it was nothing like any other building he had ever seen: the one large room was full of rows of chairs that looked like they were made out of cushions. Along the walls were windows with no shutters. He wondered how they kept the weather out. This was the most impractical building he had ever seen.
Lieutenant Larry Thompson followed the Elf through the doorway — he didn’t need to stoop. He pointed his blaster pistol at a seat beside a window. “Sit down.” Jeriel sat, wondering how they meant to keep him a prisoner next to an open window. Then he noticed a smudge floating between him and the forest outside. Hesitantly, he raised his hand toward it — and encountered an invisible wall. He withdrew his hand, unable to look away.
Lieutenant Larry Thompson took the chair beside him. “Buckle up,” he said as he pulled a pair of straps up from either side of his seat and fastened them together in front of himself using some kind of buckling mechanism. Awkwardly, Jeriel copied him. The other four Humans took seats as well and all five sat in silence, as if waiting for something. Jeriel was quiet as well, although his knuckles were white on the arms of his chair.
The entire structure began to vibrate and hum as if it were alive, and it rose into the air. This was magic on a scale he had never seen or imagined. He watched through the invisible shutters as the forest dropped away. Soon, he could see all of Faytaisie spread out beneath him. Heights had always made him dizzy, and this was higher than he had ever imagined he could go. He felt faint, and he closed his eyes for a few moments. When he opened them again, Faytaisie was a small green-and-blue ball turning beneath them, and they were among the stars.
Esther learned to read when she was four years old, and began writing shortly thereafter. She is a queer Christian poet, crafting with words to create art and music.