Vampiris Sancti: The Elf (29 page)

She put her
hand on Florian’s arm and the Vampire groaned, “Not again—we really
need to get back. Estienne will be furious!”

“Tis something
needs looking at.” She smiled at him, but her teal eyes were not
accepting any denial.

She continued.
“If you do, I will give you a nice present to make up for bubbles.
I promise and Elf promise is always true!”

Before he could
object she had dissolved to a nearby roof and she turned to see the
car idling in the street as the engine rumbled. Zyre knew something
was going on, something unusual because she could smell it around
her like a wall of water roaring down from a broken dam. It came at
her like a tornado, a barrage of scents so weird and strange she
found herself drawn to the magnetic impossibility of it. She
followed the odd smell—it was the floral of nature mixed with the
chemical of human, but with an underlying odour—one only her
magical senses could read. As she moved across the roof gleaming
eyes caught her attention and she would have investigated further
if not overcome by curiosity about the odd smell. It was so
strange, but she could swear it reeked of demon and she followed
the flow until she hit the mother lode. Crouched upon a roof
surrounded by his Varkja was no less than the Xatn of the human
world—Vryn Dhaigre—whose smell she could only describe as messed up
Oric.

Zyre would have
approached him, but the wind changed and overcome by their stench
it stopped the wayward Elf in her tracks.

Ha ha ha ha ha
ha—-mmmmmm—stinky!” she chortled at the scowling Martyc until she
fell off the roof.

A few seconds
later she dissolved before them again and Vryn moved towards her
with a stern face full of rebuke.

“This is the
business of the Empire and you need to leave now—for your own
safety!”

She couldn’t
help but smile at his lies because there was nothing there that
could harm her—unless she died laughing at their foolish fetish.
She didn’t want him to know how he affected her as the longing of
Estienne was a muted flow upon the atmosphere, but Vryn cut through
her like fire.

His face
darkened. “You must leave—right now!”

She ignored his
demand to ask, “Why you smell like human toilety?”

Zyre watched
the Martyc stiffen and though he lacked verbal response she could
feel the toilet insult had hit home. On a roll of mischief and
enjoying herself immensely she continued interrogating the smelly
demon. “Do you know there be Oric playing the street?”

The Varkja
exchanged a nervous glance, so the Elf knew whatever was afoot was
serious enough to make the Martyc douse himself in perfume. This
was too good to miss and she grinned as Vryn stepped closer to
her.

“Zyre, I am
asking you leave right now. This is an important affair of the
Empire that I need to tend to immediately.”

The Elf feigned
coughing for a minute, partly to annoy the demon and partly to
cover up the effect of him using her name in a plea.

“But I want to
stay. I not see enough of you about and I miss the great Vryn
Dhaigre for he makes the world smell so much nicer!”

The stern face
of the demon reflected none of the turmoil of his interior, but she
knew it was there for it played out upon the air between them. It
was dangerous for her to pretend they had an intimate association,
yet the opportunity to torment a demon with an agenda was just too
delicious for the Elf to pass up.

“Please
Zyre.”

As capricious
as the weather the Elf who wanted to stay remembered she had a
nervous Vampire on the street and a Ball she wanted to attend. The
great Vryn Dhaigre had also said please in front of a bunch of
perfumed Varkja, which made her warmly agreeable. Though she
couldn’t explain her sudden change she wasn’t exactly going to go
without some ransom.

“Yesee, yes,”
she told the demon who almost allowed his relief to show, “but give
me shiny first.”

Vryn looked
perplexed as he looked over his dark jeans and a leather jacket, so
an ever-helpful Elf pointed to the cufflinks on his business shirt.
The large diamonds winked in the moonlight causing the demon to
scowl at his omission. He whisked off the gems while making to
approach her.

“No, no,” she
waved her hands at him. “You smell too bad—just throw them.”

Anyone else
would ask if she was in her right mind telling him to throw
diamonds worth thousands across the roof. Then again she was Elf
and he was demon, so he threw and she caught them perfectly. Unable
to resist annoying a demon trapped by a plan she blew him a kiss
causing the air to change, but she prudently dissolved before
reaping the price of further intimacy.

Arriving back
at the car with a grin she ignored a scowling Florian who zoomed
off before she had barely settled in. In an attempt to pacify him
she showed the Vampire the diamond cufflinks and his eyes lit up
with greedy delight.

“A nice present
for you!”

She tucked them
into his breast pocket and the mollified Vampire whistled all the
way back to the House of Veraign. She suddenly remembered the
gleaming eyes she had seen earlier and wondered if she should have
told Vryn about the Vampire Galt being in the area.

The Artifice
of Magic

The first
humans that saw the strange abilities of amazing visitors from the
Reveal could only use the term magical to describe creatures as
mystical as they were beautiful. These were not the scary demons
considered monsters, but like demons they also became the stuff of
fairy tales. With attributes the local population didn’t possess
humans, like demons, sought and envied the talents of those whose
life seemed blessed. In their attempts to recreate the wondrous
gifts of these visitors they tried to emulate what they believed
they had observed. The practice of magic in the human realm by
humans could only be an artificial construct employing ritual and
wishful thinking in an attempt to control or dominate the natural
world. As science ushered in a greater comprehension of reality
magic became the grab bag of illusion for tricksters and as gods
became leprechauns, then magic became the rabbit in the hat.

When demonic
observers were unable to decipher the basis of these abilities and
devoid of explanation the term magical borrowed from the human
world appeared to be appropriate. For those from the other side of
the Reveal magical was the term used to describe individuals who
seemed to bend the world to their whim. Sorcerer was applied to
those who used incantation and will to control what they could not
bend at will and witch described those who required sigils and
spell to disrupt the natural order of the universe. The Reveal was
at home to those who used magic as artifice, magic as tool, magic
as chaos, and magical as illusion.

The magic of
magical beings that appeared as an organic flow was often more of a
manipulation of the observer than environment. Those who looked for
artificial means such as devices or tricks found themselves subject
to a state far more effective than any technology. Magical
creatures operated within physical limits of the world they were
visiting. Therefore, while it appeared that they were manipulating
physics the reality was that they were behaving within the confines
in a manner that the occupants could not. The artifice of the
magical being was that they could perform deeds that were denied
others in the same locale. They were the chameleon hiding in plain
sight for their movements could be leisurely to nearly immobile or
accelerated to no more than a wisp of passing air. Their attributes
deceived the viewing eye for they were the gazelle, the cheetah,
the bird, and the fish. They could translate emotion into a
physical action and the explosions of their anger became the Salvae
snapping from fingertips. They could assemble and disassemble at
will using their state to permeate through solid structures or ride
the winds as travel.

The greatest
feat of a magical being was the deception of those they encountered
while onlookers believed they were indeed supernatural creatures of
a favoured world. These were not the illusions of the trickster for
while a magical creature was not above misdirection they were
indeed capable of exploits, which could never be explained by the
terms of the world they visited. Their power was not of a
supernatural origin, nor was it reliant upon disturbing the natural
elements of a world as the magical were always in harmony with
life. The incantations of the sorcerers didn’t apply to them, the
spells and sigils of those who would manipulate elements into chaos
were not required by a being that respected the natural world.

The ability
that was most inexplicable to observers was the one of restoration.
A world in the grips of chaos could be returned to balance by the
most unbalanced of visitors. Their blend of paranoia, neurosis,
painful nonchalance, their sensitivity to the air, life and the
flow of energy, provided the magical being with a unique sense of
all things. This indescribable, incomprehensible, often the subject
of attempted mimicry, fantastic, amazing, frightening capacity
could be harnessed and utilised to restore the equilibrium of a
world off kilter. The magical, while harmonic to the flow of all
life couldn’t impart life once it had abated, couldn’t cure deathly
ills, or create something from nothing.

The cost of
magical existence was great and they required immediate respite
after using their energy to escape or as a weapon. Tasks such as
dissolving or flying caused energy to burn at a mercurial rate
resulting in a great deal of time spent attempting to sate the
constant craving for replenishment, sugar for Elves, gin for
Pixies, water for Fairies. These flighty irresponsible creatures
with their ability to stretch the boundaries of any world they
occupied appeared blessed by those lumbering to the laws of
gravity, time and space, but as with all blessings there was a
price. The fractured Pixie fluttering with mercurial swiftness had
their timid natures glued together by the juniper of gin. The
elegant Fairy, floating and skimming across roofs was a schizoid
creature unable to seek relief with any but their own. The stalwart
Gnome with phenomenal strength defying their size and expectation
was so unable to contain their distrust they had to use
intermediaries to communicate with even those of their own world.
The Goblin deemed nefarious became Nefarious and with their use of
silence was able to be everywhere and nowhere. They were able to
blend even in a room full of demons revealed only by their greatest
enemy—those of their own world. The Elf whose fingertips with the
ability to seduce or kill, able to move beyond vision, able to
taste emotion upon the air, her nonchalant disregard hiding a
nature composed of affection. These magical creatures of a magical
world used the greatest illusion—that of appearance—to employ
visions of supernatural among their observers. None had attempted
to know the truth of these creatures for what use was questioning
one who was no longer there.

**********

We do not so
much need the help of our friends as the confidence of their help
in need.

Epicurus.

Left with the
Oric a quickly sobering Beb stared at the Centre thinking it was
typical of an Elf to make a demand and then abandon you to fulfil
it. Elves were always like this and usually got their own way as
they cajoled, bribed, or sometimes even threatened their way out of
trouble. The Oric stood back from the magical being as if he was a
contagious condition and since the stinging barbs of sobriety
pinched his skin all over—he was glad for the space. The exterior
of the Centre was watched over by two large demons, but it wouldn’t
be hard to bypass the Verkja because they were in essence failed
Varkja. The Oric scraped behind him, the sound was harsh upon his
newly sensitised ears and he turned to see the leader looking at
him with earnest apprehension.

“Why does she
want you to speak to the Goblin?”

A drunken Beb
would have rambled for hours with good-natured bonhomie but in his
natural state pain consumed his attention, so he had little
tolerance for explaining the obvious to the uninitiated. How could
he explain the Nefarious and ways to deal with him because an
entire cultural bias couldn’t be described in the few minutes he
had available. Beb struggled for the words that would make the Oric
return to his corner.

“Not
speak—pixilate. To make him confused and he slips the truth.”

“You hypnotise
him?”

Beb wasn’t sure
about the mystical connotations of the human condition, but if the
word served—then it served.

“Yes—maybe that
be so.”

He didn’t have
the time to explain the purveyor of deceit and that the lies of the
Goblin were meant to harm—always to harm.

The Oric gave
the frazzled magical creature a wary look. “We aren’t going to help
you.”

If Beb had been
anything but sober he might have laughed at the innocence of the
human for they had been dealing with absolutes their entire
existence. Demons and Vampires, creatures that were quantified,
restrained, and controlled by the physical nature of their realms.
The Oric had no idea what the being before them was composed or
capable of, so Beb shrugged and refocused upon the Centre. The Oric
returned to his group and they conversed softly among themselves,
uncertain of what stance they should take upon the pixilation of a
Goblin. It was then that Beb saw his moment—a scuffle amongst a
couple of Perhk had the attention of the Verkja and true to his
kind he entered without being noticed by the preoccupied
demons.

Once inside the
Centre he had to use vast amounts of energy to flicker between
tables since he didn’t have the useful ability of the Elf to
dissolve directly to his location. In order to remain unobserved he
used the frequent magical ploy of misdirection, something human
magicians had picked up from their rare encounters with these
beings. Chairs were mysteriously bumped against, glasses fell from
tables, occupants were looking everywhere but where the Pixie
actually was located. He moved across the room fooling all eyes
except the vile sulphur ones of the creature he dreaded. The Goblin
sat in the corner since they preferred to watch and wait from a
distance. It made for easier get away and kept them from general
notice because the Nefarious One was welcome in very few circles.
The Goblin observed his unexpected compatriot without friendship.
Pixies were known to pop up on the most unexpected worlds to
deliver messages and since he was the only other magical being
present—it was obvious the Pixie was there for him. The Centre
hummed with activity as demons gossiped, argued, seduced, conned,
stole while consuming a variety of human and demon delicacies. If
any had been a smidgen less self-involved and bothered to observe
their surroundings they might have noticed the magical duo in the
midst of a rare and unsolicited meeting.