“You based your curse upon my experience, didn’t you?” Yzandra demanded, ignoring Talia for the moment.
Alilia tearfully nodded.
“Does she know what she faces?”
Alilia shook her head. “In general, but not yet in detail.” she murmured guiltily.
Now Yzandra turned to Talia. “You forgive her now, but you’ll feel differently before another century has passed! Gods’ teeth, you will hate her and the very air she breathes in a week! I will tell you what she lacks the courage to say! You will be raped in the most brutal ways, and if you try to prepare yourself for it to reduce your suffering, you will be raped by surprise! You will be bound, naked and helpless, in the most humiliating positions imaginable! You will be tormented upon your most private places, with cruel little whips, and with pins, and with hot candle wax! You will suffer buggery, the ultimate violation! You will be violated in every place with phalluses and fingers and every common object that can be made to serve the purpose! You will not be able to feel forgiveness for her after decades and centuries of such torments!”
She turned back to Alilia, and spoke coldly. “Until the end of days. Who would have thought it possible. Alilia the Great, Princess of The People of Life. The cruelest rapist who ever lived.
“I am renouncing my citizenship, for I am shamed by it. I leave tomorrow for The Stone Islands.”
With that, she turned on her heel and walked away.
“Now you hold right there, Yzandra!” Talia called sternly. The instant she wanted down, Mark sensed it in her body language and released her. She set out after Yzandra with determination in her stride, down an invisible ramp that deposited her feet on the wood just as she drew abreast of the outraged elf, who had stopped at the call.
“You have not considered what I have said with any seriousness at all, and furthermore, you are acting just like Alilia did when she cursed me!” Talia lectured. “For you have shown undeserved discourtesy to myself and to my party, a behavior you would normally abhor in yourself and which you will regret when this has passed, and anger has driven you to do it! Now I realize that painful memories have been reawakened in you by all of this, and I feel deeply for what you have gone through. But still, you must try to control your emotions, and realize the truth of what I am telling you!
“Alilia was cursed, Yzandra! Her son was lying freshly dead upon the ground right there, horribly broken and bleeding, because she had been cursed! She was IN HIS MIND, trying desperately to find out what had happened, at the final moment of her son’s death!!”
She took a deep breath, her eyes locked with Yzandra’s, and continued more calmly. “No one could be held responsible for their actions under such circumstances.” She looked around, and saw that everyone within earshot had stopped to listen. “No one.” she repeated firmly, and turned back to Yzandra.
She shook off the mood, and took a more friendly tone, with a gentle smile. “Just as I will not hold this outburst against you, for it is all too understandable.
“Furthermore, you must realize that what I face will not be the terrible ordeal you experienced, or even the tiniest fraction of it. I can imagine what a horror that was, and I feel great sorrow for your pain. It must rip at your heart to think of me having to go through that for eternity, but I will not. You need not feel that bad for me. I will not experience imprisonment, or enforced solitude and monotony. I will not be tormented by strangers, or feel the emotions that go with it. I will merely have rough sex with my husband, who loves me, and who will only be doing it because he is forced to do so to serve my needs, and that difference in intent changes everything.”
Yzandra broke down crying, and Talia stepped up to hug her.
“My father and Alilia were cursed to sow discontent among the elves, Yzandra.” Talia softly told her. “We must not let our unseen enemy succeed in that.
“Come. You should celebrate with us for a while. It will be good for your mood.”
She drew her over to the group.
“I’m sorry, Alilia.” Yzandra sniffed.
“As am I, Yzandra. As am I.” Alilia nodded, and Talia drew the three of them together into a tearful hug.
“I think we’ll go to the privacy, girls.” Hilsith smiled, and turned to the group. “We’ll meet you at that table full of deliciously scenting delectables over there.”
The four made their way into the crowd, who resumed their celebrations, albeit with a more subdued mood.
“That was… Spooky.” Dilimon quietly stated.
“Wasn’t it?” Yazadril thoughtfully mused, and wiped a tear away.
Nemia turned into his arms and hugged him, and she also shed a few tears.
Theramin noticed the puzzlement on Mark’s face. “Talia and Dalia were exactly alike, except that Dalia had the boldness, and Talia the thoughtfulness. But as Talia pointed out, her recent experiences seem to have cured her of most of her shyness.
“And she seemed just like Dalia a moment ago.” Mark nodded in understanding, and they began making their way over to the table Hilsith had indicated.
“Exactly. Before, it would have been Talia who thought of the words she said, and she’d have told Dalia what she thought, but it would have been up to Dalia to deliver such an effective remonstrance. And she’d have been very much like that. For a moment, Talia seemed much more like Dalia than herself.”
“Talia said that Dalia was half of her soul.” Mark mused. “I guess if that’s so, then half of Dalia’s soul lives on in her sister.
“I’m very sorry I never had a chance to know them both together. I can barely imagine how wonderful they must have been.”
Then he thought that his words might be taken to be insensitive to their grief, but as he turned to check, Nemia re-assured him with a warm smile as she repaired her appearance with a casual spell while marshaling her emotions.
“Those are lovely thoughts, Mark. I know if Dalia were here, she’d want us to celebrate Talia’s wedding with joy. Perhaps you would care for a dance with your new mother-in-law, till your bride returns?”
“I would be honored!” Mark chuckled with a polite bow as he held his hand out to her. “With your permission, Yazadril?”
“Of course, Mark! And you should know that among my people, it is almost ridiculously overly-courteous of you to ask!” Yazadril laughed. “Our females value their freedom of choice in such things, and our wives more than most!”
“Overly-courteous? Is that a real word?” Mark asked Nemia with a mischievous smile as he led her to the nearest crowd of dancers.
“I couldn’t say!” Nemia laughed. “This translation spell is standard-issue, and it could be better I think! It supplies both words and grammar, and while I’d give its crafters average marks for its dictionary functions, it’s often too slow to supply the correct sentence structure, and elves sometimes find themselves using the more formal modes of the syntax of Elvish. Especially when emotions run high.”
“I’ve noticed that!” he agreed as he took her hands, then cocked his head at the song the five piece fife and drum group were playing. “Do you know this dance? It seems almost like a jig.”
“No. It’s particular to the People of Life.” Nemia said as she watched the joyous capering around her. “I do know some that are similar. But what the hey! We’ll just improvise!”
“All right!” he laughed, and they bounced around together for a few moments. Unfortunately, it was like a normal man dancing with a six-year-old child, and as Mark had suspected, it was rather awkward. He looked around at the other dancers and marveled at how much he must stand out in this crowd, since almost all of them were shorter than his belt buckle.
“Could you do that dancing spell that Talia did?” he asked.
“I don’t think that would be wise, since I have had six cordials!” she laughed. “But you’re right in that this isn’t working that well! I’m getting a kink in my neck from looking up at you! Just pick me up, like you do Talia!”
“All right!” he laughed, and swept her up in his arms. This allowed him to do a much better job of following the other dancers.
“Mmm! I can sure see what Talia appreciates about this.” Nemia giggled.
“What?”
“Do you remember what it felt like to be a child, being carried by an adult, who was so much bigger and stronger, yet so gentle?”
Mark smiled. It hadn’t been that long ago. His father had stood two hundred and twenty-nine centimeters tall and weighed well over a hundred and forty kilograms, and he’d been fit and muscular. He’d had no trouble carrying his son around until Mark was almost thirteen.
“I see that you do.” Nemia smiled. “I get a similar, wonderful feeling being carried so effortlessly by you, like this. But then, I’m not a little girl anymore, I am fully mature, and you are male and very attractive, and that adds other aspects of wonderfulness to the feeling.”
“Ah, okay.” Mark nodded, growing a little uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking.
Nemia didn’t notice that. “We shall have to ask Talia to share you with me some night soon.”
“Now don’t you start with that!” Mark laughed. “I got enough of that kind of teasing from those girls at dinner!”
Nemia didn’t say anything, and Mark suddenly stopped dead in shocked realization.
“Great fried toads! You’re serious!” he muttered. He looked around and resumed dancing, hoping not to make a scene. Then he noticed the hurt look on Nemia’s face.
“Hey, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to… to dismiss your feelings or anything! It’s just… I mean, you’re my mother-in-law, and the way you are, I mean it’s just not fair that you’re… Ah crap, I’m babbling like an idiot, and Yazadril warned me about these differences in our cultures, so I should be handling this better, but I’m not, so I’m sorry.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at his bashful frustration and stroke his cheek. “No, it’s me who should be sorry. I didn’t mean to scandalize you. I too forgot for a moment what great differences there are in our cultures. And perhaps I still have too much girlish pride. I’ve never been refused before, and I was surprised, as I don’t grant my attentions lightly, or often. Except for Yazadril, of course.”
Then she cocked her head to one side and smiled mischievously. “What did you mean, that it was not fair, me being the way I am?”
He took a deep breath. “Look, Nemia, I dearly love Talia, but I am not blind to the fact that every single elven female is beautiful! Now a man expects that he will have to exert a certain measure of willpower to resist the allure of other attractive girls after he gets married. And, I’m lucky to be able to truly say that I find Talia to be the most attractive among you by far, not only for her alluring prettiness, but for her intelligent and adorable manner as well. But for pure, dazzling, breathtaking beauty, there are two of you who are her equal, and it just doesn’t seem fair that you should be one of the two! I mean, a man expects his mother-in-law to be wrinkled and gray, and neither you nor Talia look a day older than I am! In fact, if I hadn’t been told, I wouldn’t be able to choose which of you is older than the other!”
“So you are saying that it’s not fair for you to have to exert so much willpower to resist the allure of your mother-in-law? Oh, Mark, that is so cute!”
Mark had to shake his head and chuckle. “I’m glad you think so, Nemia.”
“Tell me, who is the other that you find so beautiful?” she asked with a teasing smile.
“Well… It’s Alilia.”
“Alilia! I can see that. She is very striking.” Nemia nodded, smiling. “You should know, in order to avoid misunderstandings in the future, that Alilia would pleasure you or Talia, or both, in a heartbeat. True, part of it is her need to make amends, but she is not blind to the fact that you are an incredibly attractive couple. And those friends of Talia’s at dinner were teasing you, but that does not mean they were one whit less serious about pleasuring you. They would dearly love to climb all over you in a big pile of naked elf girls!”
“Well that’s it! I need a drink!” Mark declared as he set Nemia down on her feet and led her by the hand back to their group.
Back at the table, he picked up his glass and slammed back the contents, set it down with a deep shudder, then picked up Talia and held her close.
“What is it, Love?” she asked, unsure whether to be concerned.
“I’m just having a bit of trouble getting used to our cultural differences. It’s nothing.” he assured her.
“It’s my fault.” Nemia explained with a smile. “I expressed my desire for him, and he said that it wasn’t fair that he should have to exert willpower to resist the allure of his mother-in-law. Isn’t that charming?”
“Ah, Nemia, you are still so young!” Yazadril laughed as he drew her into his arms. “And still so unknowing of human ways! You’ve probably mortified the poor boy!”
“Well there’s no need to trouble yourself, Love!” Talia soothed. “I wouldn’t mind sharing you with Mother some time, not in the slightest!”
Mark stared at her in shock.
Yazadril shook his head in bemusement. “Talia, you are not helping the situation. The thought of you and your mother sharing a bed in that way will be shaking his mind to the core right now.”
“Oh! I’m sorry!” Talia told him.
“Look, it’s not just that!” Mark stated in hurt exasperation. “I mean, Talia, we just got married! We haven’t even slept together yet! You can’t really want me to sleep with other women do you?”
She searched his eyes, and considered her answer very carefully. “Not if it makes you feel badly, my love. Not if you feel that it is a betrayal of our love, or of our marriage. But for my own part, if I thought you would genuinely be comfortable with it and enjoy it, I think it would be fun as an occasional treat. I mean, I know how you human males feel about being with other males that way, you are famous for your aversion to it, and so I would never suggest it. But I was under the impression that human males liked to be pleasured by as many females as possible.”
“That’s true, in a way, but…” Mark stammered.
“You are also very young, Mark, and so there is much you don’t realize.” Yazadril said. “Among your people you swear in your marriage vows to not share sexuality except with your spouse, and so it is considered wrong to do so, and so when it is done it is generally done in secret, and so it is a betrayal. Even among our people, it would be a betrayal to sneak away from your spouse to pleasure another in secrecy. But among every race, even humans, it sometimes happens that a happily married couple will together share their bed with another, or even another couple, by mutual and respectful consent, for the sake of enjoying a novel experience. I can guarantee that such things occasionally went on in Shinosa Valley while you lived there, though you can be sure that the adults would never let you children know about it. And among my people, such play is very common. The differences in this regard between your people and mine stem from the fact that your people are vulnerable to sexual diseases and unplanned pregnancy, while elves are not.
“Simply take it slowly for now, no one will ask you to do anything you feel uncomfortable with. You’ll get used to us in a few years.”
“Huh. You really think that adults among my people do such things?” Mark asked uncertainly.
“I know it for a fact, though they are a small minority.” Yazadril nodded. “Every sexual practice you can imagine is done among every race on this world. The fact that certain practices are forbidden among humans only seems to make them more fascinating to some of you. If you had reached your adulthood a few years before you came to us, you would know this, and so you would not be nearly as shocked by our customs.”
“Come, let’s move on to the next consulate!” Dilimon laughed. “At this rate it’ll be midnight before you’ve seen them all!”
At this, many of those around them began nonchalantly making their way to the ground, most by Flight, though some began crowding happily onto the lifting platforms.
“Everyone around us is listening to every word we’re saying!” Mark stated in surprise.
“Of course!” Talia laughed. “We are the bride and groom! We are naturally the center of attention.”
“And you are surrounded by royalty and mighty wizards.” Yazadril added. “You would be the center of attention under such circumstances among any race in the world. It only surprises you because elves are far more discreetly polite about eavesdropping on the famous, but how could the nearest among them not do so, in such a dense crowd? And since there is no reason why some should be privileged to hear the words of the famous by chance, while others are not, those around you are passing the experience to everyone else. Discreetly, of course. I thought you realized that. That young fellow there, who is so skilled at being innocuous, is Kenesir of Sming, a famed recordist. He has sacrificed his celebrating tonight to so that he can concentrate on recording the events for the historic records of the elven nations. He magnifies his vision and augments his hearing to do so, and his memories of tonight will be impressed into a jewel in a form that can be re-experienced by others. He is truly a great artist at the task. No doubt a copy of it will be given to you as a wedding present, for it is traditional among us to do so.”
“Oh. Well I didn’t know about that fellow, but I guess I realized the rest.” Mark said as they stepped onto the lifting platform. “I just forgot, because I’ve never even seen a crowd before tonight, never mind having to deal with their attention upon me! Being famous, as you say, is a strange experience. I’ll have to watch what I say a little closer!”
“Why? You’ve said and done nothing that you cannot be proud of, by anyone’s morality!” Talia told him. “Just be yourself. We all love you that way. Don’t we?” She asked that last of everyone on the platform, and they all gave a laughing cheer of agreement, abandoning for a moment the pretense of not paying attention to them.
“Oh.” Mark said, and blushed bright red.
“You might think it better if everyone who is paying attention to you acted like they were paying attention to you,” Yazadril opined, “But believe me, you would find it far more unnerving to have thousands doing nothing but standing there and watching you, or worse yet, yelling and gesturing wildly for your notice, as some in human crowds always do. Better that they be discreet, and put some of their attention on enjoying all of this fun and feasting!”
The next four small areas were those of the elves from the tropical jungles. Their Princes and Princesses were introduced in turn, and each spoke to provide insight into their people. The tropical elves were dark, like those of all races who dwelt in such climes. Their skin, their hair, and their eyes were black, to protect them from the intense sunlight, and even the ‘whites’ of their eyes were black, so that their pupils and irises were only apparent in the uniformly black orbs when the light reflected from them at certain angles. All had dense, straight hair that grew to a uniform five centimeter length, and stuck straight out from their heads in a spiky ball.
Like Alilia’s people’s area, the ground was covered with an impenetrable abundance of life, all of it strange, and they conducted their affairs entirely in the trees. The four areas seemed very similar at first glance, yet a closer look showed that they were filled with completely different species, for they represented three different continents and an isolated archipelago. The trees lacked the great height and breadth of those of some other areas, but were far more densely spaced. Those from continents wore loose, colorful robes, tied at the waist with chains of flowers.
The islanders’ area had a smoking volcano visible in the distance, the scent of the sea in the air, and the sound of distant surf. Many of them wore only flowers in their hair and short white kilts, and Mark blushed purple to see that as many females as males went unclothed above the waist.
To provide lighting for their areas, the wizards of the four tropical nations had co-operated on a great illusion. It was night in the rest of the valley, but in these four areas it was high noon, and a blazing tropical sun shone directly overhead.
After that they visited the plains elves of the three great empires, whose only illusions were fantastic castles of delicate design between the great trees, their halls and courtyards and the spaces between filled with tens of thousands of merrymakers.
“There’s not a lot of trees out on the plains.” Jaromer commented. “So my people have embraced the art of building in stone.”
“And they do so beautifully!” Talia told him.
“I’m curious about something, Jaromer.” Mark asked as they stopped to watch an amazing display of juggling and acrobatics. “You were introduced as Prince of your people, and as Viscount of The Empire of Thon and Imperial Wizard to His Excellency Osbald the Eighth. Yet Pimall said that none ruled over you. You’ll forgive me if I see an inconsistency there.”
“Ah. You see, our titles are reciprocal.” Jaromer explained. “Osbald is introduced as Emperor of the Humans of Thon, and as Viscount to the court of The Principality of the Elves of Thon, as well as being Royal Wizard to the Prince of The Elves of Thon, who is of course, me. We are two peoples and two nations, one a principality of elves, and one an empire of humans, who happen to share the same land. We share the same laws and justice system, the same civil organizations, and the same military, though tradition dictates that we conduct our own training and form our own companies. Yet it is explicitly stated in treaty, as well as completely understood in practice, that Osbald commands no elf, and that I command no human. The governments of my associates here from the other empires of Sming and Kuth are very similar. It is a system that has worked well for six thousand years so far, for it allows all of us to politely claim in public that we are part of a united nation, while each secretly believing that we have conquered the other race!”
“It keeps the peace, and that is an amazing and beautiful thing.” Yazadril nodded.
“Why do you say that?” Mark asked.
“Because my people and Osbald’s, all the humans and all the elves of the plains actually, were at odds for thirty-five thousand years before the empires became united.” Jaromer revealed. “Sometimes it was all-out war, and the rest was just long breaks between battles, full of minor skirmishes and covert destruction. There was poisoning hatred, one race for the other. At the end, neither side had enough population left to hold more than a fraction of the land, and it was realized that if we couldn’t make peace between us, both our peoples would lose everything to invaders from more distant places.
“Now our mottoes are Peace, Trade, Prosperity.”
“As reflected in the incredible displays of various merchandise available here!” Talia nodded gleefully as she eyed the endless tables and racks of items all about.
“Indeed!” Jaromer chuckled.
“I’m kind of surprised that I haven’t seen you trading for anything.” Mark chuckled to Talia. “I’ve sure noticed your eyes widen at a few things tonight, and I know you could easily afford most of them!”
“Yes, it’s a deliciously frustrating experience!” Talia giggled. “Any other girl here can go on the shopping spree of a lifetime, yet it would be foolish for me to do so, since no matter what I buy, I may just receive another exactly like it for a wedding gift! That would diminish the value of the gift, and leave me with redundant duplicates besides!”
“Ah, the troubles some girls face!” Yalla laughed.
“You know, at every elven wedding I have ever heard of, every attending guest brought a gift, even if it was only a trinket.” Nemia stated thoughtfully. “The gifts we received when Yazadril and I married still constitute over half of our wealth and goods. Over seven and a half thousands attended, since Yazadril knows so many from beyond The Nine Valleys.”
“That’s generally the case.” Yazadril nodded. “Most of the other half of our wealth and goods are things that were given as gifts at my last marriage, over five thousand years ago. My things from my first marriage, back when I was but a lad of two centuries, were plundered by… Well, they were plundered in a war, and none were ever recovered, but it was a substantial trove. And you know, a surprising amount of the wealth and goods I’ve gained by my own efforts have gone to provide gifts at the weddings of others, now that I think about it!”
“That’s the way of elves.” Gorsh said. “We keep what we are given, and give what we have earned. I’ve given away everything I ever made except two items, or spent it in the consumption of life, and everything else I own was a gift.”
Alilia’s husband had spoken so rarely that Mark was surprised by it, but he was soon distracted by the realization of what Nemia was getting at.
“You don’t think everyone who came tonight will give a gift, do you?” Mark asked in amazement. “Most of them never even got a chance to see us with their own eyes!”
“Yes, I do think they will.” Nemia nodded.
“Of course they will!” Gorsh insisted, vaguely offended at Mark’s suggestion. “They all got to see you in their mind’s eye, and closer than they could with their own eyes at most human weddings! They have all enjoyed the most spectacular wedding that was ever held! It would be rude to fail to give a gift, after sharing this wonderful experience!”
“He’s right.” Pimall nodded. “Your decision to extend your invitation to the entire elven race was an unprecedented and astounding act of openness and community, and you can be sure we all appreciate it as such!”
“Oh.” Mark said in surprise. “I never thought about it. It just seemed like the thing to do at the time.”
“My point is this; Yazadril, Theramin, Alilia.” Nemia said as she looked to them in turn, and cast a quick counting spell. “There are three million, six hundred forty-nine thousand, four hundred and thirty-one in attendance, and we four will make these newlyweds a home as our gift. We may need to reconsider the design, with an eye to increasing the vaults and storage.”
“That’s a good point, my dear.” Yazadril nodded. “We’ll know the extent of the modifications needed after the gifts are given.”
Mark chuckled. “My father used to say; the valley was our home, and a house was only shelter from the elements and a place to keep your things.”
After the areas of the plains elves they visited a single area that represented the four nations of the elves of The Sea People, who had once been one people before they spread to four continents. Their only holdings on land were trading enclaves on the waterfronts and docks of the ports of the world, full of warehouses and shipyards and such, for they lived almost their entire lives aboard their great ships. Their area around the chapel appeared to be flooded to a great depth, an illusory sea that filled the spaces between the great trees, and many great wooden vessels over a hundred meters long floated within. Once aboard the closest and largest one they danced to merry sea shanties and snacked on seafood delicacies.
Though as merry as any, The Sea People were a fierce looking bunch, with necklaces of shark’s teeth, gold rings pierced through their ears or noses, and hauntingly beautiful tattoos on every exposed square centimeter of skin, including their faces.
When Mark asked about this, Princess Bluvi of The Sea People of Kletiuk told him with a laugh that it was a practice that helped to discourage piracy.
Finally, Pimall showed them around the huge area of The Warm People. Here everything was covered with a forty centimeters of snow, with more constantly falling between the great trees, yet it was just as warm as the rest of the valley. The area was lit as almost bright as day by the polar aurora twisting and turning in colorful bands that filled the sky. Mark grabbed a handful of white and made a snowball, and it felt and acted like snow, but it didn’t feel cold in his hands.
“Is this real?” he asked, indicating the snow.
“It’s real snow, but spelled so that it can’t absorb any heat.” Pimall informed him. “We are called The Warm People because we have a natural immunity to cold, a subdevelopment of the innate elven healing ability. So we always feel warm. When the ocean is freezing over, we are comfortable swimming naked among the icebergs with the seals. This display gives everyone a chance to experience what that is like.”
“It’s great!” Mark laughed, and lightly tossed the snowball at Dilimon.
Dilimon blocked it in an explosion of dry flakes. “It doesn’t even get you wet!” he laughed.
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