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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Action/Adventure · #1882319
In a world submerged in Norse fantasy, two elves search for the same thing.
This is a tale. A tale of villains and heroes, destiny and fate, friendship and betrayal, gods and mortals. I warn you now, of the horrors of this tale. For those weak of stomach and weak of mind, turn back, do not listen, drink your ale but close your ears. Those of you who keep your ears open to my tale I shall start at the very beginning…
From the ever dark sky heavy drops of rain fell through the gaps between the tall buildings. Lights flashed high above, warning airships of their dominating presence. Though it was a miserable night, many people flocked on the pavements under the man made canopy. But within the Outwalls, people never seem to be in their own houses. It reminded them to much of how miserable they are and how they were poorer than the Inner City. Their clothes home made, often home spun. Thin cloaks, to keep out the cold, became soaked through as soon as they took three steps down the path in the gloomy weather. A figure passed silently through the downcast crowd, out-casted by their expensive cloak, that sparkled, but not with rain, which ran off the material and onto the ground. The black hood was pulled over their head, their face thrown into deep shadow even though harsh electric lights surrounded the pavements and spilt out of nearly every window. A dirty little pub nestled between dirty little houses and dim light spilt out onto the pavement as the door swung open and the sparkle cloak entered. The light was cut off as the door snapped shut. The figure in the sparkle cloak moved silently towards the bar and placed one tanned hand on the dusty surface.
"A mineral water please," The bar tender, whom was rolling a dirty cloth round a cracked mug, looked up and scowled at the newcomer with his one good eye.
"Wa'er? Ya thinks me 'umble abode wou' do mineral wa'er?" He chuckled and shook his balding head. Sharp purple eyes gazed steadily at the man from the shadows of the hood.
"Yes. In fact I know you ordered some last week from the springs of the Heights of Bifrost. Must have been expensive. Water from that close to the gods," The bartender stopped rubbing his mug as the bar, which had been noisy, filled with bawdy voices, went totally silent at the mention of Bifrost. The bartenders face paled and he leant forward.
"Be silent fool," he hissed, "I be stolen from if ye spread tha' info. I ain't mean' tae be as rich as tha'," A tall man stood up from one of the gambling tables and stare towards the bartender.
"Ye say what? Ye never said ye could afford such a liquid. And ye not be sharing it wiv yer patrons? Yer scoundrel Gabit, yer a scoundrel," He pulled a dagger from his belt and advanced on the cloaked figure.
"Mighty fine cloak yer got there. I thinks I'll take it afore I take Gabit's water," A nasty grin spread across the mans face as he advanced on the figure.
"Laddie, I dinnae think that be a good idea," The big man turned to see who spoke to him. Standing by the door, rain dripping from the huge bushy moustache and double axe on whence he leans on, was a small man with fiery red hair and beetle black eyes. He barely came up to the big mans waist. The thug grinned and placed his hands on his waist.
"Ha, ye threatening me little man?"
"What if he is simpleton?" before the thug even got a chance to turn around, a dazed look overcame his face and he pitched forward straight onto his face. The cloaked figure stood behind him, looking at the small man.
"I thought I told you to stay out of sight Hufrit? Now you will have blown our cover," The small man folded his arms around his axe handle and scowled.
"I gots bored watching these 'umans dragging thar feet back 'n' forth to nowheres," The entire tavern watched the two strange figures with awe. A gasp came from the bartender. Both figures turned towards him, their piercing gaze making the man cower behind the bar. He pointed to the small man.
"You be a Dwarf," The pub burst out into whispers and points. The Dwarf known as Hufrit grinned from beneath his bushy beard.
"I do laddie. An' you be a 'uman," A tut came from the figure in the sparkling cloak.
"Great Hufrit, just great. Do you know how long it's been since Dwarfs have mixed with humans? Or since humans have even seen a Dwarf?" Hufrit frowned slightly as he thought about it.
"Well I thinks it be a longer time than I be alive lassie. Maybe three 'undred years? Or four?" The figure shook their head.
"Six hundred years since a Dwarf has been seen within Midgard," Hufrit grins.
"Tha's nearly as ol' as you ain't it lassie?" The woman beneath the cloak sighed and shook her head again.
"No where near you rude being. I believe I am younger than you, old man. My kind also age more gracefully so we don't sport those huge bushy beards and all those wrinkles," Hufrit laughed out loud.
"You be getting them when ye older. Anyways, aintcha hot under tha' there hood? Migh' as well show yerself now we been rumbled," The bartender cowered behind his bar and looked at the hooded woman with fearful eyes. She gazed round with sharp intelligent purple eyes at the other occupants of the bar and her lips stretched into a smile.
"It has been even longer that a human has seen one of my kind in Midgard. Though we enter unobserved. And we use better weapons than Dwarfs,"
"What do you mean 'better weapons'?" he stroked one of his axes blades fondly.
"We don't use blades anymore. We are far more advanced in weaponry than these humans," She sighed, flicked back her hood and shook her short purple hair loose. A red headband held it back, behind the pointed ears, away from her angular beautiful face. A short fringe stopped just above the flickering purple eyes. The bartender gave out a small whimper as he ducked under the bar all together. The Dwarf, who had stayed by the door, stopped a few men from sneaking out by prodding them gentle with the top of his axe. They grudgingly returned to their seats. The woman looked around and smiled, opening her arms to them.
"My friends, you have witnessed for the first time in over five hundred centuries a Dark Elf and a Dwarf travelling, together no less, into Midgard. It is a shame you will not remember," With that she raised her hand and uttered four runes, the language not have been heard, let alone spoken, in Midgard since the gods abandoned it, one thousand years ago. The people in the pub gawped in amazement before their memory of the two figures erased and they were forced into a deep sleep. Thumps echoed through the still air as many fell from their chair. The Dark Elf peered behind the bar to see the bartender flat out and snoring. She chuckled as she pulled the hood over her ears again and picked her was towards the Dwarf through the bodies on the floor. Hufrit smiled and opened the door, letting the light flood onto the pavement again and onto the bustling darkness of human shapes. Some how he seemed to merge with the people, the Dark Elf exiting swiftly behind him.
"You realise that there will be immediate investigations into this? So called 'psychics' will be swarming over that place. The government will realise that this was no human incident," Hufrit snorted, seemingly invisible to the crushing crowd around him.
"So. Thar jus' going to feel the gods are back. Who's gonna suspec' a Dwarf 'n' a Dark Elf?" The Elf shot him a side wards glance and sighed.
"You're never going to acknowledge that this is a serious mission. We have to return the orb back to that fat pillock on the throne in Asgard. If we don't then the humans will come into possession of it and the powers it holds," She turned sharply into an alley way, followed by her small companion.
"Yeah yeah, I know. 'Uman control o'er wa'er an' tha such," grumbled Hufrit. The Elf smiled fondly and sharply twisted through a open fence way. The pair found themselves in a large yard, cramped by the many cases and barrels of liquids for the pub out front. Hufrit cast a suspicious look at the back door.
"Ye sure no idiot's gonna come out 'n' rumble us?" The Elf smiles assuringly.
"Relax Hufrit; they will be out for a while. And I locked the door after us," Hufrit grinned merrily.
"You be a crafty one Jonque, that be certain," Jonque smiled smugly and began to move among the boxes.
"Enough flattery, help find the correct boxes. You should feel the orb pulsing like a tide. Hurry now," Hufrit grumbled as he moved in among the stacks, focusing his mind on any spark of power.
"If tha gods be loosin' this orb, shouldn' they be a searchin' for it?" called Hufrit, with his head nearly submerged into a half full barrel of what smelt like Dwarfish ale. He heard Jonque tut loudly.
"They have sent some one out here. They are just keeping a lower profile than us," Her voice sounded different, almost fond, which made Hufrit suspicious.
"An' who be this 'ere god a lookin'?"
"Never you mind. I found it by the way, but I can't get the box open," Hufrit opened his mouth, but another, smoother, voice answered.
"Elf let me do it. That's what I am here for," Hufrit stumbled over to where Jonque's voice was and saw her standing with a tall man, seemingly human, with untidy golden blonde hair and a young charming face. In his hand he held the Orb of Aquilia, in the other, a bottle of the crystal clear water from the Heights of Bifrost.
"Hallo Hufrit, how are you? Well no time to talk, got to go and deliver this damn thing to the big man up in Asgard. Then I can hang around Midgard some more. It's a great place," With that he disappeared, leaving an imprint of his very white grin in the air.
"I dinnae like tha' god. He gives mae the shivers," Jonque sighed dreamily.
"Don't be silly Hufrit, he's absolutely dreamy. I wouldn't mind him as a Life Guardian. Every else likes him good enough," Hufrit rolled his eyes.
"Us Dwarfs be immune tae his charms. We knows how tae see right through 'im. He be a nice fella, right enough, bu' his constant charm gets on our beards," Jonque sighed again then seemed to snap out of it.
"Wait, he just took the orb, that means our mission is complete," Hufrit shook his head and hoisted his axe upon his shoulder.
"Nay, we gots tae find out why some one want's it 'ere and also, I be given a mission by me King. From tha gods. I sup'ose it be okay tae tell ye," Jonque cocked her head to one side.
"I wasn't informed about this," Hufrit gave her a secretive grin.
"Nay, tha gods seem tae trust us more than ye Dark Elves. Anyho. We gots tae find tha reason that git god ye like so much be spending so much time 'ere in Midgard," Jonque sighed and crossed her arms.
"I wish we get told about things like this. Just because the Light Elves are all goody goody in Alfheim, doesn't mean us Dark Elves from Svartalfheim are no where as good," Hufrit rolled his eyes again.
"Yadda yadda yadda. I heard it all before lassie. An' I dinnae really care. So hush ye mouth and let us be goin'," Jonque pouted and pulled up her hood roughly before stalking into the night, a highly amused Hufrit following closely.
© Copyright 2012 Jaye Goldenwolf (jgoldenwolf at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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