The archery range was scenic, unnecessarily so, thought Jon. Along the Elgelican forest-floor trees had been planted in a rectangular formation allowing for a field to extend between them with straw targets at the far end. It stretched almost a kilometre in his estimation. The Council spire rose behind them supported by some of the most magnificent pine behemoths in the city.

The exquisitely beautiful and dressed to the nines Sepha sat with Kay at an ornate table on a pavilion overlooking the exercises. Jon stood further back behind Kay in his capacity as a ‘servant’.

Sepha appeared to be a young elf as well, although her hair had prematurely greyed. A suspected genetic condition Jon noted quite common among the swath elves he had witnessed in the city. Who was he kidding, it looked sick as hell. Girls bleached their hair grey all the time back home. Done up elegantly with several pins and sparkling clips, the hair alone appeared an intractable geometry problem. To complement this, she wore a bejewelled gown and intricate jewellery, almost all silvers, offset by white fabric. She certainly dressed to impress.

Hopefully, this was just standard procedure for guests or regular garb for her; otherwise, it was utterly wasted on Jon and Kay. They wore the simple plebeian looking grab they always did in the field. Comfortable, easy to move in, and offering far more protection than anyone would suspect.

The twenty or so bowmen practising in the field were mostly shooting at their own pace. One at the end, however, was going for a forty-five degree shot to demonstrate his range. He drew back, and the glinting steel longbow arched to his will before swiftly releasing. The arrow arced majestically through its apex before hitting a target at the very back of the range. The woven straw disk marked out a distance of 700 yards which Lee converted to probably 640 metres.

Pre-industrial measures always varied from kingdom to kingdom, even town to town. Furthermore, different crafters in the same village often used custom measures, devised in their own shops. It was enough to give any technophile cold sweats: no unit standardisation, and no interchangeable parts. All mechanisms and structures were custom-made, and any replacements or repairs had to be purpose-built. Jon had repeated nightmares about it. Repairing some worn and rotten watermill, he would ask, ‘You got any spares?’ Onlooking villagers would shrug aimlessly to each other. He shivered, it’s in the past, Jon. You have a well-equipped machine shop now.

Anyway, the target was about that far. The forest provided exceptional wind shielding, so Jon supposed this shooting range helped with getting your eye in. The shot was still super impressive though, like the best English Longbowman shot ever, better even. He would need to get the arrow’s weight to determine the energy of the shot and then work backwards to find draw weight. He need not have bothered. Sepha was all too happy to boast about it.

She spoke in elven, so Jon saw subtitles above her head. “As you can plainly see, Luren-sun. Elgelican Earthbowmen are indisputably the best bowmen in the world.” She kept on giving sidelong glances to him as she spoke. He’d have given her his number if this was just about any other situation. “With a draw weight of around one hundred and ninety pounds in our main forces,”

Lee again posted converted units in HUD chat: ‘86 kgs’, and Jon’s resisted an audible sigh of satisfaction. Thanks, mic man Lee. Few things riled him up more than Imperial Units. He would have thought the Americans would convert to the sacred Metric System after joining the rest of the multiverse; he thought wrong.

“…there are few to none who can match our reach or piercing strength. None of the mortal races have the time to hone their skills as we do, and none of the immortal races, beyond elves, have the inclination. Of them, the artisans of Elgelica are peerless in the crafting of the Elgelican Steel Earthbow. So this quaint forty-pound trinket of yours,” The recurve rested on the table between them. “while quite intriguing in design, is more a child’s toy than a weapon of war you understand.”

Kay replied, “forgive my impertinence council member Shalen-sena, but there are far more elves otherwise blessed in magic than Earth. What of your Windbowmen? They use strength alone to pull their bows, do they not?”

Nice save, Kay. The little grey haired bitch, lead with Earthbows to downplay the recurve’s value.

“You are far more informed than I anticipated Luren-sun. Why yes, normal bows for hunting and the like are used and perhaps the Windbowmen might find your curiosity a trite more useful.”

God-dammit, this woman is insufferable.

Lee guided dialogue on comms; the volume was as low as possible to avoid audio leakage to their acutely hearing hosts. “Kay, inform her bitchiness that we can make at whatever poundage in whatever material she damn well pleases and beyond.”

“Gratitude for your indulgence in my query, Shalen-sena. Might I note that this bow, built for my meagre strength, might also be made for any poundage you desire and out of whatever materials you wish. Should your bowmen prefer metals that too can be arranged.” Jon was extremely thankful that Kay was doing the talking.

“Why that would be something to see! A better bow made outside of Elgelica!” She clapped her hands lightly together in that cringing way which only barely covered for her veiled insult.

“Am I to assume your kingdom has many elves then?” Ah, the inevitable loaded questions had begun.

“Dodge the question,” barked Lee, “cry confidential.”

“I am afraid the nature of who we represent is a fairly sensitive matter to be discussed in the open like this.”

“I completely understand.” It was probably the first true thing Grey-girl said since their meeting began. “Shall we retire to my council chambers for more detailed talks then?”

Kay agreed, there was only so much talk of bows even elves could manage. Colour me surprised! Jon followed a few paces behind as they moved with an entourage of bodyguards toward the spire.

Dreading the climb he was surprised to find the spire had very simple elevators scaling the height alongside stairs at a reasonable clip. He would have to inspect how they did it at a later date. For the moment, attention was a resource he couldn’t afford to spend too liberally.

If he thought the Len River keep was fanciful, the council was positively ethereal. Towering stained glass windows were plastered up its front facade. Constructed facing South toward the Thyme River, the glazed scenes of forests and innumerable elves were depicted in all sorts of elfy activity. The orientation allowed the sun to cast mosaic hues of greens accented with other floral and fruity tones. The lengthy artwork stretched between two monolithic pines from the ground up, for many floors. The building was framed by four such equidistant living pillars of wood.

Building for elves was more bonsai than Burj Khalifa. They used expertly carved stone and wooded plinths as crossbeams between the trunks. And each structural member had buffered space to expand as it grew with time. Simple wood planks would seal these gaps, the whole project was an exercise in continual maintenance, replacing swollen or shrunk parts as well as gradually guiding the wood where to grow. The elves were not so much architects, as the worlds most patient gardeners.

Behind them stone reliefs framing the stairs depicted events. With each floor, the stone looked more pristine and newly polished. Supposing they carved them as the building grew, and the depictions were accurate, then it served as a history of Elgelica in stone. All in all, the site was going on Jon’s Weed List, getting baked in here would be a trip to remember.

Sepha, her guards, Jon and Kay made it to a midway floor and crossed the stair landing to the back of the spire facing away from the stained glass. Through a delicately carved wooden door, their group entered a room with a long table and a balcony overlooking the range they just recently witnessed.

Guards found their stations both outside the room and, a select few, inside as well. The doors were closed behind them, while Sepha busied herself with making tea at a nearby bar area.

“Would you like some Cha, Luren-sun? A trader from the perilous Silken Route has recently brought some fine wares from our cousins in the Far East.”

“I would be honoured, council member Shalen-sena.”

“Oh, please call me Shalen-sun. Pleasantries are for public. Appearances can be useful, but behind closed doors, I find they impede discussion more than facilitating it.”

She switched to Common. “You two would know much of this, would you not?” She gazed directly at Jon as she said the next part. “Perrel-sun, please make your presence known.”

And Faelyn walked in from an obscured archway. His arm was still in the sling and cast fashioned for him the previous night. Aw, shit! was Jon’s most productive thought in that instant. Sehpa continued “My older brother is a rather excitable sort you see. As such I could not act on his message alone, and I sent Faelyn here to his usual information gathering haunt.”

“The Cask,” spoke Jon. Pieces fell into place rather rapidly.

“Why yes, Jon. I do not even know your family name, would you be so kind as to share it?”

“Kel is fine.”

“Ah, I see. Kel-sun would you care to take a seat with your elven frontman.” Well, the jig was up. Relaxing from his stiff servant posturing, he found a seat next to Kay on the long side of the table. He met Kay’s fearful eyes and gave a reassuring wink and a smile.

“Well, I suppose coming clean at this juncture is for the best. Please, Ms Shalen go ahead and expound on what you suspect, and I will correct as we go.”

“You are not the first human, to entertain business with an elf as a cover. How long did you think you could avoid discovery?”

“Long enough to sit at this table, that’s all I needed.”

“Well, congratulations, now you are. The human ambition I understand, but the elves lowering themselves to a mortal’s beck and call I find debasing. Have you no pride Kay Luren-sun?”

She made to speak, but Jon interjected instead. “I am here on Kay’s request. We are not lord and servant in any respect, but equals, always and forever.” His focus was on Kay has he spoke. “Kay, these are your people, and this is your world. You say the word, and we leave, nothing need come of this.”

Knowledge was a heavy burden, and Kay was at the focal point of two very different societies. She may not have liked it, but right now, she was the one and only representative of her entire planet. Jon hoped to change that and relieve the pressure some, but presently, it was on her shoulders.

The room was silent as Jon ignored all else and focused on those green eyes and brows scrunching the skin between them.

“We stay,” said Kay. “They too deserve the choice if nothing else.” Looking down, she was in deep contemplation.

“Well, well, if that is theatre, it is quite good,” remarked Sepha. “But my loyal informant reports otherwise. Kay is confirmed to have named you ‘Master’ from several sources.”

“She is in training, as such she defers to a title of respect of her own volition. I have warned her off it, but she persists. She is free to call me as she chooses. You will note that liberty is a running theme if you continue to work with us.”

“A free elf calling her human companion ‘Master’.” Pausing as if mulling the idea over. She returned to the table, bringing a tray with three cups and a pot. Pouring them each full she took the first sip of her own. “You’ll forgive me if I reserve my judgement.”

“I doubt I could get you to believe anything you didn’t want to, so doubt away.” Jon leaned back in his seat. Faelyn had approached to stand behind Sepha in the same servile capacity he had. “Hey there, Faelyn, how’s the arm? If you’re amenable, I would like to do daily check-ups to ensure the break is properly healing.” Faelyn waited for Sepha’s permission before replying.

“The arm’s pain has diminished much. If you are willing to help me be rid of this ‘cast’ sooner rather than later, that would be most desirable. Should things not heal in line with your promises…” The weighty implications dropped like a guillotine in his mind. Fortunately, they were not in France and a few hundred years early, if it was ever likely to happen.

“Your treatment was improvised; there was no greater play involved besides care for your well-being. Don’t treat an act of kindness like a machination.” That did not stop Jon from using it as one; he just wanted to have his cake and eat it too, or elf bread, whatever the fuck passed for confectionery around here. “You threw the gauntlet remember. Court the unknown flippantly and don’t expect to come away without a few scratches.”

Faelyn’s eye’s narrowed at that.

“Oh, human,” returned Sepha, “childishly courting the unknown goes doubly for you! You are in the very centre of elvish homelands. You are fortunate I entertain your naive floundering. Some of the older council members would have jailed or exiled you by now.”

“It is fortunate then; we have you. But don’t get this the wrong way round Shalen-sena, you sought us out. You didn’t need to, and we could have simply passed through without event.”

“I think both you and I know that is a fanciful figment. You don’t arrive at our gates with a party of dead orcs wanting to pass by unnoticed! Come, let us dispense with pretence. Who are you, and why are you here? My patience runs short.”

“This is fucken great tea by the way.” He paused to appreciate the aftertaste. “Fine, I’ll shoot straight for a while, but only since you asked nicely.” Secretly, he was relieved that small talk was over.

“Ah, the mask slips, and I see the crass lout below.” She smirked.

He continued. “The world you know is over. What happens in this room in the next few minutes will determine the future of Elgelica in all that.”

“Is that a threat, human?”

“Nah,” the refutation was casual, “this is an invitation.”

“An invitation to what?”

“To join the rest of the world.”

“And if we refuse?”

“Then you refuse, and we go to the dwarves, humans, orcs, or hell, even goblins. Anyone capable of saying ‘yes’ or ‘no’ will suffice. You are simply the first stop because Kay here is the first person I met and she desired to come here. That said, I won’t deny allegiance with elves has some points that support it over others. These are temporary at best, though. Whatever initial port we arrive at, will become the new centre of your world, it could be in the middle of a desert for all we care. It will not matter.”

She laughed haughtily placing her hand before her mouth as she did. “Very well I will humour you, Jon. Tell me of your ‘mighty’ land and people!”

“Unfortunately, no one can be told what the multiverse is; you have to see it for yourself. Its entirety is something I cannot show you. But I can give you a taste, enough to make an informed decision. If you agree to this, then send out all but your most trusted people. How you ultimately handle forthcoming knowledge on your side is up to you, but I propose initially minimising exposure is in your best interest.”

The bemused look on Sepha’s face dropped as she replied. “They will be armed. That is my only condition, try anything stupid Jon, and they will cut you and Kay down without pause. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

Turning away, she nodded, and all but one guard and Faelyn remained in the room along with Jon and Kay. The guard moved closer to Sepha’s side, hand on his hilt.

“Awesome, then let the show begin.” Jon opened his pack as he spoke. “How often are council members spied upon in this building?” Slowly, so not to startle anyone, he pulled a sensor buoy on a flat mount from his bag.

“It is not impossible, but rest assured this room is secure.” Sepha confidently announced. The buoy activated, and Jon did a sweep.

“Uh-huh, am I to assume then that it’s just the five of us here?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“You’re certain?”

“How many affirmations do you need human?” harped Faelyn.

“Oh, so that dude behind the false wall isn’t yours then?” John pointed, and quick as a flash, the guard rushed the wall and dug his blade deep into its timbers. The wood was thin and gave little resistance. Jon watched in macabre thermal colours as the poor soul on the other side was impaled. The deathly gasps of pain were unmistakable. Just as callously the guard pulled his sword free, everyone seeing it slick with crimson blood.

“Yep, you got ’em.” The thermal and seismic rendition slumped on the floor as the sword pulled free. The guard kicked down the thin wall to find a human woman dressed in the garb of council servants. A narrow passage led off to who knew where behind the walls. The guard cleaned his blade on the dead woman’s dress before resheathing it. “I take it from the swift and merciless murder; she was not one of yours?”

“No she was not,” confirmed Sepha still not looking away from the corpse, “and that passage is a new installation I was unaware of. Just how did you know, Kel-sun?”

Giving away the sensor buoy’s function was tactically unsound, but sooner or later he had to build some bridges. Also, he couldn’t very well make Sepha ignore the fact that he put it on the table in the first place.

“The black orb on the table enables a new means of sight. Kay, please pass Sepha your visor for a moment.” Kay produced the optical goggles and demonstrated on herself.

Kay explained. “I would recommend closing your eyes while you affix them Shalen-sena. The added lights and colours can be disorienting.”

Faelyn interceded to test them first. After a few wide-eyed blinks, he then handed them over to his mistress. Seconds later, Sepha was wearing them. It was quite juxtaposed with the rest of her hairdo and dress.

“Oh, my! What by the realm is all of this!”

Jon replied. “You see light not normally meant for human, or elf, eyes—the light of heat. Look at your hand and compare it to the table or the tea. The hues in gradation indicate either warmer or cooler things. Truth be told, I might not have detected the spy were it not for the fact she had been there a while, and her heat had transferred through that thin panel. Combine that with sight in the form of sound: creaking of wood and breath, plus some ultrasound, and the visual aid predicted a high probability of someone behind the wall. The lines and meshes are determined by sound. There is a lot more to it, but you get the idea.”

“This is simply magnificent! I must have one! How much? Name your price!”

“Don’t take this the wrong way Ms Sepha, but money is not the issue. While I can see how useful this would be for an information merchant like you, there are a few things you are not appraised of. Firstly, its function requires far more than just this orb and that visor. The sight is sent elsewhere to be cleaned and stitched together before arriving before your eyes. In short, if you use this device, even outside of my presence, I will see and hear everything you do. I will know when and where you are too. For someone who values discretion, I doubt these intractable features would please you.”

“Those are rather hefty drawbacks I admit.” She looked genuinely crestfallen as she removed them.

“Secondly, as allies, you will not need to buy such things. They will simply be availed to you as needs must. Your safety becomes a matter of vested interest.”

“If we become allies, that is.”

“Yes, ‘if’. I was just using the orb to clear the room; it is not the main attraction. Let’s move on." Jon got up from the table and retrieved a deployable rift with a flat mount for floors. He set it up but did not activate it yet. “Kay, now it’s your job to work your muti. Please prepare them in such a way that they do not freak as you did.”

The girl’s green eyes noticeably widened.