“I see.” Nemia nodded with a thoughtful look. “Good choice. It will better match the theme.”
“Yes, that too. Come you two.” Yazadril chuckled, as he led the way to a door just off the kitchen, and down a set of spiral stairs within the wood, lit by glowing spheres set at intervals overhead. Mark carefully sidled down the tight passage behind Yazadril and Talia for thirty feet, to a chamber that was completely enclosed in the heart of the tree. “My workshop. Safer if it’s separate from the rest of the home.” Yazadril explained to Mark as he unlatched and opened a very thick wood door, and led them within. The room was round and twenty feet wide, and the domed ceiling was just high enough near the center for Mark to stand up straight. Curved work benches of elven size lined the walls, below racks and shelves of neatly arrayed tools, implements and materials, the nature of most of which was a complete mystery to Mark.
“I’ve always loved this place.” Talia smiled as she looked around.
“Talia told me of your thoughts, about letting the binding of your wedding vows affect you.” Yazadril told Mark as he fetched an item from a workbench and held it up. It was a ten inch long, one inch wide, thin steel band with rounded ends, bent smoothly into a C, with five thin steel tines protruding from the middle of one edge. “Now, when I cast a mild Tranquility upon you yesterday, I altered my own vibration, and so the vibration of the spell, so that it could affect you. It’s a different thing to change your vibration, to negate your special quality and allow magic to affect you. None-the-less, if I’ve transposed the notes I used correctly, and made no mistake in the theory, the mathematics, or the crafting of it, this should do the trick.”
He plucked the ends of the tines, all five at once, and the notes they made formed an eerie, shimmering chord. “If this works, as long as you’re wearing this and the tines are ringing, it will alter the vibration of the most crucial parts of your brain, and hence your nervous system, and magic should affect you. It will be most effective as the tines are first plucked, and the effect will fade as the sound and vibration fades. So, if you want a spell to affect you at a somewhat constant rate, strum it like this;.” He brushed his fingertips rapidly back and forth over the five tines like he was strumming a lute, and the chord rang out constantly.
“If you want to wear it without it affecting you, slide this little velvet envelope over the tines to damp their vibration. Let’s try it, shall we? Could you bend down a bit?”
Mark bent down, and Yazadril slid the band onto his head. The ends squeezed the side of his head at the top of his temples, holding the metal in firm contact across his forehead, with the tines encased in black velvet sticking up from the center. It was uncomfortable, but not greatly so.
“Now we will test your heat tolerance.” Yazadril explained. “I will lightly hold your left index finger close to this candle flame, far enough away that it will not hurt at first, but close enough that soon the pain will make your arm pull the finger away. Just let it do so.”
They conducted the test, and when Mark jerked his hand away and stuck his fingertip in his mouth, Yazadril nodded. “Just short of six seconds. A bit longer than I expected. Dry your finger with this handkerchief. Now I will create another burning candle entirely from magic, but otherwise identical in every way to the mundane candle. Do you see it?” Yazadril asked, holding it out to Mark.
“No. To me your hand is empty, though curved to hold something candle shaped.”
“Talia?”
“It looks exactly the same as the other candle to me, Father.”
“Excellent. Now give me your finger again, Mark.”
He held the tip of Mark’s finger in the center of the flame for ten seconds. “You feel nothing?”
“No. Just you holding my finger.”
Talia whistled softly, eyebrows raised. “Now to me, that is spooky!” she commented.
“All right.” Yazadril released his hand. “Now take off the velvet envelope, and pluck the tines. Tell me what you experience.”
Mark did so. “Whoa! It’s very loud when you’re wearing it! It kind of sounds nice, but it kind of sounds scary, and in a way it seems to be rattling my skull. But I can see the magic candle! Though it doesn’t seem very, uh, substantial. And like you said, it’s kind of fading away with the sound.”
“About what I expected. Now strum the tines. Try to keep the sound constant and even, so that the image of the candle is also constant and even.
Mark experimented with it a few moments, until he had selected a technique and stabilized it. “That’s about as good as I’ll be able to do without a lot of extra practice at it.”
“It sounds very smooth.” Yazadril nodded. “This is the important part. Maintain the strumming, while I hold your finger exactly the same distance from the magic flame as I held it from the mundane flame for the first heat tolerance test. It will take a lot longer for you to feel the heat this time, so just keep concentrating on keeping the strumming constant.”
They conducted the test, and the moments passed, until finally Mark gave a yelp and jerked his hand away.
“Two minutes and four seconds.” Yazadril stated thoughtfully. “Here’s what we’ve learned, children. Within the margins of error for this test, it is safe to say that while strumming the tines, Mark is affected by magic at about one twentieth the normal amount, all other things being equal. That should hold for all types of magic.”
“I have a spell of another type I would like to try.” Talia giggled.
Mark gave her a bit of an apprehensive look.
“Don’t worry, it’s harmless!” she re-assured him. “And I think you’ll like it. Kneel down please.”
“Remember, you’ll need to use twenty times the power you normally would.” Yazadril cautioned. “Be careful of the consequences of either overpowering or underpowering the spell.”
“Yes Father.” Talia nodded.
With a shrug, Mark knelt and strummed the tines.
Talia put her hands on his shoulders, whistled a complex melody, and gave a jerky nod. “That’s it. You can stand up.”
He did. And every hair on his body below his neck fell out.
“It worked!” Talia laughed, clapping her hands. “I can’t believe it! You are even more handsome without all that coarse fur!”
“Thanks!” Mark chuckled in amazement as he brushed off loose hairs that still clung to him.
“Can I do one more?” Talia eagerly asked.
“What?”
“Where you were covered by your hair and beard and clothes, you’re quite white, while your hands, shins, and around your eyes are quite tanned. I would like to make you evenly and lightly tanned all over.”
“Oh, well that would be okay.”
He knelt down and strummed, and in a moment it was done.
“Perfect! Now you could not possibly be more handsome!” she laughed as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him.
“And you found the twenty to one power requirement ratio to be consistent?” Yazadril asked.
“Yes Father, as near as I could tell.”
“Well my boy, that is all I can do for you that way today. There will be five times as many guests as we expected at Talia’s wedding, and since Alilia is inviting the most powerful eight thousand from her people’s hundreds of thousands, the average Power of the guests will be much higher as well. If they are all four times as powerful on the average as a typical elf of The High People, your vows should affect you equally as powerfully as most elves of The High People are affected by their vows. What will actually happen is impossible to say. It’s your choice whether to wear this and strum it, or not, as you take your vows.
“Now, behind that door is a privacy, and you should go there and shake all that hair out of your new clothes and sandals!
“While you do that, I will cast invisibility and inaudibility on this tine band, keyed to Talia and I. Only we two will be able to see it, or hear it’s sound through the air, and of course while you are not wearing it and strumming it, you will see it and hear it as well, since those spells will not affect you. But, I cannot key it to you unless you are wearing it and strumming it at the same time that I’m keying it, and that could be dangerous. So, when you wear it and strum or pluck it and are thus affected by magic, if you look in a mirror you will not be able to see it. Also, while wearing it and strumming it you will not be able to hear the sound of it through the air, but that is of no consequence, because most of the vibration, and the only part that matters, is the vibration you’ll hear through the bones of your head.
“The point is, you’ll be able to use it without giving your secret away or anyone realizing it, if you so choose. Except that they will see your fingers move as you pluck, so try to keep that unobtrusive. If you wear it too long it will make a slight red mark from the squeeze on your skin. As for carrying it without using it, I suggest you put it on your upper arm, it should hold there firmly.
“Thank you Yazadril!” Mark said as he took the band off. He slipped the velvet envelope over the tines, and handed it over.
“You’re welcome.” Yazadril absently acknowledged, already reviewing his spells.
Mark shared a smile with Talia and turned to go to the privacy.
Half a minute later Yazadril finished, and handed the tine band to Talia. “And now I must go make ready before Nemia comes looking for me! Talia, bring him upstairs when he has the hair off him.” He tossed that last over his shoulder as he jogged out the door and up the stairs.
Mark soon returned from the privacy, a bemused smile on his face. “There’s a big mirror in there, though not full length.” he said as he went to one knee and gave her his hands, and she placed her tiny ones within them. “Thank you very much. I hate to sound egotistical, but I am honestly so surprised at how nice I look!”
“You’re welcome. You do look wonderful.” she shyly smiled.
“So do you.”
“Thank you. Could I have a kiss? A very, very nice one?”
His smile was just as shy. “I’d like that.”
She slowly leaned forward, and softly brought her lips to his as she closed her eyes.
A minute later she leaned back, and they were both a little short of breath. They relived the experience for a moment, then their eyes re-focused on each other. They grinned like schoolchildren as she took the tine band from the back of her neck where she’d placed it, slid it onto his bicep, and they went up the stairs.
When they reached the landing at the top, she stopped and turned to him without opening the door. “It seems incredible, considering everything that’s happened, but I think I am starting to fall in love with you, Mark Longstrider.” She informed him with an excited smile. He was still three steps below her, so she didn’t have to look up at him quite so much.
“And I have fallen completely in love with you, Talia.” he returned with the same smile as they joined hands.
“Oh? So soon? Are you sure?” she teased.
“Oh yes.”
“Should we cancel some of the plans to have so many reinforce your vows? It is an unknown, a danger, and since you love me already and we have Father’s latest invention, we might not need so much.”
“It’s probably too late to cancel any plans. Besides, I think it will work, I think the danger is small, and as you said, eternity is a very long time. I think we should take every little bit of help we can get.”
“All right.”
With a twinkle in her eye, she subtly leaned forward and raised her chin.
He understood the gesture immediately, and leaned forward to give her another kiss.
“Ah, we are all so lucky you came here yesterday Mark, in so many ways.” she chuckled a few moments later. “Especially me.”
She caressed his face with one hand, then opened the door and led him through.
Nemia and Hilsith sat chatting on the couch, and rose at their arrival.
“My!” Nemia exclaimed. “He just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t he?”
“He does!” Hilsith agreed. “Your husband again shows new talent, an ability with cosmetic magic!”
“Yes, having obviously found a way to affect Mark’s skin and hair!” Nemia laughed.
“You two are both very pretty as well!” Mark complimented.
Hilsith and Nemia both wore evening gowns that were much as Mark expected ladies of nobility to wear, their floor-length flared hoop skirts stuffed with petticoats, their short sleeves puffed, the necklines low and rounded. Both dresses had many accents; tiny pearls and gems, and delicate ribbons and bows. Nemia’s was a very light pink, while Hilsith’s was a bright white with a blue tinge that matched her hair and skin.
“You are indeed very beautiful, both of you!” Yazadril smiled, emerging from the hallway.
“Oh my!” Nemia breathed as he came to her side.
“Yazadril? Is that you?!!” Mark asked in amazement, for the ancient elf was barely recognizable.
He wore a gleaming suit of golden armor, plate over mail, with white ceramic accents, and a white cape trimmed in gold embroidery. The hilt of a matching two-handed sword was seen over his left shoulder, the tip of the scabbard almost touching the ground by his right foot. His gauntlets hung from his belt, and a small but very ornate crown graced his head, gleaming gold and silver and studded with jewels.
But his transformation was far more complete than that. He no longer looked ancient, and instead appeared to Mark to be about forty-five years old. His long beard was gone, and his clean-shaven face had only a few fine lines. His hair was now a dark steely gray, and his aura of ‘humble old elf’ was completely gone. His bearing was now straight and strong and full of the command of nobility. For the first time, Mark realized that here was one of the most formidable warriors that had ever lived.
“Oh, it’s me, all right.” Yazadril chuckled. “For the last millennia it has suited my purpose to have a demeanor that encouraged my people to find me very approachable. For the same reason I have often appeared to be less magically skilled than I am. Now, I think events call for something else, and so I have reverted to my more military image.”
“But you look so much younger!” Mark stammered.
“Yes. The appearance of age is a harmless affliction that comes upon us very slowly, and it’s few elves who are of such an age to be able to achieve that look. But, we can choose to heal from it. If I wished, I could appear as young as Nemia, but that would not help me to be taken seriously in councils of war. And I must admit that the age I allowed to slowly come upon me must have affected more than my appearance, for now that it is gone, I feel more fit and vigorous than I have since… Why, since I last looked like this!”
“Oh my husband, I have loved you so much!” Nemia sobbed as she hugged him, moved to tears by him. “But I never knew I could desire you so much more! If this wedding were not so important, I would drag you down the hall to our bedroom this very instant!”
“Why… I had not considered that!” Yazadril chuckled.
“And you’re glowing brighter than Nemia and Talia, and they’re the brightest I’ve seen except Alilia!” Mark revealed.
“I expect I am. This armor, the crown, and most especially the sword, are all among the most revered treasures of my people, and they are items of serious power indeed!”
“Oh Father, you look so fine and handsome!” Talia marveled.
“Thank you. And now our preparations are complete, I think. Shall we go?”
“We shall!” Talia eagerly agreed. “And I think that I should hide Mark from sight as we travel, so we can make a more grand entrance when we step out into the chapel.” She gestured at Mark’s chair and whistled a melody.
“Good thinking.” Yazadril nodded. “A little showmanship can only aid our cause.”
“What did you do?” Mark asked his intended as he seated himself, and Talia curled up in his lap.
“I cast an Illusion. To other eyes, this platform now has a wood frame around the chair, sporting a roof and curtains all around, of brown cloth with gold thread embroidery.”
“Oh.”
They smoothly rose and floated over the balcony railing, Yazadril and Nemia taking a position to the left as before, and Hilsith to the right.
“You can fly if you want. I trust it now, and I’m used to the height after being on that balcony so much.” Mark murmured to Talia. “I mean, you don’t have to go along the ground like before.”
“Excellent!” Talia laughed, and they sailed off into the wide spaces between the great trees, gradually gaining altitude.
When they cleared the tops of the trees, still rising, the ground below was beginning its incline to the pass into the next valley. Soon they sailed far above the pass and into the valley beyond, though they were still far below the tops of the mountain peaks all around.
“This is incredible!” Mark shouted over the howl of the wind, for though they felt very little of it, Talia was deflecting a mighty blast of air. “I don’t even want to know how high up we are! How fast are we going?”
“Every minute, we travel about a league.”
“A league a minute? But that’s…” he had to pause to calculate it. “That’s one hundred and eighty miles per hour!”
“Yes.”
Mark looked around in wonder, for at their height the speed was not as apparent. Furthermore, the three flyers around him were standing at their ease, and since they chose to block the wind completely, they sailed along without a hair out of place. He shook his head in amazement.
“Why did Dilimon fly the way he did, instead of standing up like that?”
“He flies three times as fast as this. At that speed he must minimize the wind he must deflect, or the noise would be deafening and the cold would be dangerous. He is very skilled at it.”
“Oh.”
Now they were over the next valley, which was also perfectly round and hemispherical except for the flat of the valley floor, though it was somewhat smaller than First Valley. And where the trees around Yazadril’s home seemed to be of every variety that Mark had ever seen, those in the second valley were all of types that shed their leaves in the fall, with none of the evergreen varieties.
“That oak is the oldest tree in The Nine Valleys.” Talia told him. The one she pointed at stood by itself in the exact center of the valley. Mighty it was, the highest in the valley, eighteen hundred feet tall and fully as wide, with only grass beneath it, surrounded by a clearing five times as wide as it was. “It was planted soon after my people settled here, when there was nothing else but blasted rock. Most of the first trees died early, till there was a sufficiently nutritious soil base, but that one has survived, and thrived. It has a very long name in my language, but we simply call it The First Tree.”
They curved gradually to the right, aiming for the pass to the third valley beyond. This pass was long, and had a road that climbed as it wound between five mountains, each higher than the one before. Talia flew them up and up, over the second and third peak, between the last two.
“This is Laylas Valley. It is the largest of the nine. The chapel is at the center.” Talia explained as they flew over the last high notch of the pass.
“Wow!!” Mark exclaimed as the valley came into view. It was five times as wide as First Valley, and five times as deep as well, fully twenty-five thousand feet from the valley floor to the jagged rim. It was more of a bowl than the other two, since the flat at the center was a smaller proportion of it, and the rim much more consistent in height. And in contrast to the previous valley, every one of the great trees here was of a single variety of redwood fir. They were more closely spaced as well, and in many places the tips of their branches intermingled. They smoothly rose in height toward the center, forming a round peak.
Now they flew down into the valley. Soon Mark noticed swarms of elves flying about the center, and as they drew closer, he saw that there were throngs of them on the ground. “Sweet mother of all! I never knew ten thousand could look like so many!”
Yazadril frowned. “That’s because there are far more than ten thousand here already! And more arriving every moment!”
They flew above the trees to the center of the valley, where a perfect ring of twelve redwoods, each exactly the same height and shape, towered over all. A somewhat shorter ring of twenty-four surrounded them, with another ring of thirty-six around and below that. Around the three rings the symmetry was lost, for though the trees around them continued to smoothly decrease in height, they were positioned more randomly.
Talia came to a stop in mid-air above the center of the innermost ring, then descended into the round space between them. Now they were veritably surrounded by flyers, though all maintained a discreet distance. Some who recognized Yazadril, Nemia or Hilsith called greetings, which were fondly returned.
As they neared the ground they approached the east side of the clearing, then slowly settled toward a huge deck twenty feet up the trunk of the easternmost tree of the inner ring. Talia kept the chair hovering a foot above the deck as the others alighted, and Nemia opened the large, windowed, double doors with a gesture. Talia floated the chair in after them, and Nemia used another gesture to close the doors and draw the gauzy curtains.
Within they found a large, round, elegant room, with a high ceiling graced by a magnificent and delicate crystal chandelier. Like the rooms in Yazadril’s home, it was a natural seeming hollow, and it’s floors, as well as the walls that curved up to form the ceiling, were surfaced by the highly-polished living wood of the great tree. On one side was a row of elf-sized dressing tables with padded stools interspersed with wall mirrors, so the bridal party could do last-minute touch-ups to their appearances, and on the opposite wall was an open cabinet with an assortment of fine spirits and beverages, surrounded by groupings of small armchairs and side tables.
On that side, Alilia conferred with several other elves, all attired in magnificent array. She wasn’t damping her glow to Mark’s sight, and a few of those with her were almost as bright, but he had come upon it gradually this time, and his eyes seemed to be more able to adjust to it now. He found that by narrowing his eyes a bit, he could look upon the group without too much discomfort.
At the rear of the room, near a door that led deeper into the tree, stood Theramin, Dilimon, and two female elves Mark hadn’t yet met.
Theramin looked agitated almost unto apoplexy. “Finally you are here, Yazadril!” he exclaimed as he hurried over. “I’ve been casting Speaking at you for forty minutes or more!”
“I was working on something delicate, so I blocked communication.” Yazadril told him, vexed. “I’m sorry I didn’t restore it afterward, but why didn’t you simply use an Official Priority Speaking?”
“Because officially speaking, there was nothing unusual happening until just now!” Theramin said as he threw his hands in the air in frustration. “Those within the inner ring are the only ones who are officially within the chapel, and they are all invited guests; all of The High People, and those Alilia invited from her people on Talia’s behalf. Everyone outside the inner ring are from her people as well, and they are, so they say, ‘just visiting’, as is their right under the terms of the alliance! It looks like the entire nation of The People of Life will soon be ‘just visiting’ around the chapel! Of course, it doesn’t really matter that they are outside the chapel, because unless you expressly forbid it, everyone outside will be taking a Reading from someone inside!
“Word has spread like wildfire! About the deaths of Dalia and Bezedil, about Mark, about Alilia’s curse, and about this wedding and how many have been invited! Rumors are spreading like a plague, and many of the young hot-heads are talking all sorts of foolishness!
“And this is spreading around the world! Those are the Princes and Princesses over there with Alilia, and they tell me that millions of elves from all over the world have asked for permission to come here! Just for a visit, of course! Alilia had to invoke the charters of war to insure that none spoke of any of this to any but elves! She had to actually declare a state of war in order to ensure compliance from the plains elves, just a moment ago!”
“Let them come.” Mark said as he stood and Talia banished her illusion. His powerful, rumbling voice drew every eye in the room.
He looked to Talia. She smiled and nodded, and offered him her hand. He returned her smile as he gently took it, then met the eyes of those around him one by one “They must each swear to keep the peace, and to not crowd into the chapel or do anything else that would disrupt the ceremony, or the celebration. But on those conditions, we extend an invitation to any elf who wishes to come to our wedding.”
“Done!” one of the elves with Alilia shouted, loudly and triumphantly. “Let all see the truth, whatever happens!”
As he spoke a flash had lit in the room, so bright that Mark blinked hard and rubbed his watering eyes.
“I hope you’re satisfied.” Alilia declared in frustration. “For better or worse, there will soon be over two million elves in attendance!”
Mark nodded as his eyes cleared, and he gave her a smile.
Despite her ire, she was magnificent, her beauty easily outshining any he had seen except Talia and Nemia. And despite everything else, he could not help but be struck by it. She wore a white silk blouse with ruffled lace on the front, form-fitting black velvet pants tucked into high, black leather boots, and a black velvet cape secured with a gold chain over it all. Atop her gleaming white hair was a shimmering tiara of some white metal, centered with an oval sapphire as big as a chicken’s egg, and she held a black staff of power topped by a diamond as big as her fist.
“Wow Alilia, you’re really beautiful! I mean, that’s a nice outfit!” he blurted, then blushed at his own youthful impetuousness.
Alilia’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and then she could not help but chuckle at him. A quiet laugh went around the room as the tension was suddenly released, and everyone relaxed a bit. “Ah Mark, you are such a good boy.” She told him with a smile of her own. “And I will have you know that this is the raiment of a Battle Wizard of The People of Life. But thank you.
“We speak Trade Common around Mark, as he does not speak Elvish.” Alilia said to the royalty around her. “You all know Yazadril of course, and you met Nemia at their wedding. This is Hilsith, Master Healer of The Warm People. This is Talia, daughter of Yazadril and Nemia.”
Yazadril had given a shallow, dignified bow at his introduction, and the ladies gave a curtsy.
“And this of course, is Markhan Reginus Longstrider the Fifth, Forest Ranger of Shinosa Valley in Finitra, of whom we’ve been speaking.”
As he’d done before, Mark made his courtly bow and politely declared; “I am entirely at your service.”, before smoothly standing again.
“Mark, this outspoken fellow is Prince Jaromer of The Elven Peoples of The Empire of Thon, Viscount of that realm and Imperial Wizard to His Excellency Osbald the Eighth. He’s feeling a little defensive right now, because he’s just learned, under a provision of military secrecy, that Yazadril and I were cursed from the vicinity of his homeland.”
Jaromer stepped forward and shook Mark’s hand as a man would. He was tall for an elf at five and a half feet, with dark brown hair and eyes, and wore very ornate red robes of state. “Hello, young fellow!” was his jovial greeting. “My people have benefited greatly from our association with the humans of our country, and we’re of the opinion that the other elven nations could do the same. Segregation leads to conflict, we think, so I’m quite glad to see you come to dwell here! Hopefully this will lead to more pleasant relations between our more rural and conservative cousins and the human nations they share borders with.”
“Nothing would please me more, Prince Jaromer.” Mark returned. “And I’m glad to meet you!”
“I hate to risk breaching any royal protocols, but we must prepare for the ceremony.” Nemia politely interrupted.
“She’s right.” Alilia nodded. “Mark, you will meet the rest of these august personages after the ceremony, but for now, I will show them to their places, and check on the progress of the preparations and the feast.
“And by the way, Yazadril, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you looking as you should.”
Mark gave the group a smile and a polite bow. “Thank you all