Chapter 1 - Untitled - Oli

The world is a cruel place, and I hate it. Standing above me is an elf I have known since I was a child. His name is Akienan Vestwood, and he is currently rubbing my face into a pile of ox feces while yelling slurs like “grot-infested swine”at me. My name is Oli Vestwood, and though I share the name of our tribe, I am the most feeble among the elves.

Questions started to rush through my head, things that had to do with the cruel world that I knew I was living in. At the age of three, I got very sick. This sickness tore up my body to the point that only my eyes and neck would move how I wanted them to, and they would stay that way till I got the age of 5. I could not explore like any other child the usual way. I began to explore differently. I began to listen to the words of my parents as I rested against the bosom of my mother.

As they spoke, I began to understand more and more of the language of the world. I began to move the toy blocks around in my head instead of on the floor with my baby sister Seri. I started to ask questions regarding these blocks. Who am I? The name of Oli that was given to me by my parents determined who I was, and I learned so much about myself. I knew that the name I was given would be with me for the rest of my life. That I would use it for everything and that the world and others would come to address me as Oli.

My mom would spend hours with me every day, moving my limbs for me so that they wouldn’t go to waste. My limbs would only twitch when I asked them to move, but when my mom moved them, they slowly developed into something that I could use when I wasn’t as sickly. My mom would whisper to me elven poems and songs as she moved my limbs, which helped me learn some vital lessons before I began to walk out of the home.

This sounds like something that a young child like myself could not grasp, but I tell you that what else am I to learn if I can not hold the eating utensils in my tiny toddler hands when I am three. I watched with the utmost patience as my family raised me regardless of the pain that I was causing them. The words “I love you” that came out of my mother’s mouth every time she saw me lock my eyes onto her sounded like music to everything else that was going on around me.

At the young age of three, I learned the most important thing about the world. I learned of a mother’s love and how to receive love from others. Only by this love was I able to move by the age of five. This is all thanks to my mother and father, who love me and my sister very much.

At the age of five, I began to ask other questions. I began to have the curiosity of ten children my age, and through the rough movements that I made, I put all the things I observed to the test. I began to discover things like bugs and small animals. Small plants in my mother’s garden became things that I could grow, just like I had to develop myself. I realized how important the soil of the plants was as it defined if the plants grew or not.

I felt as though I was struck by lightning when I realized that I had been planted in soil that would let me grow too. Regardless of how my body was or how much I was bullied when I walked outside, I watched plants that had wilted become some of the strongest in the garden because of the care that my mother and I gave them. My father told me every time I touched a living thing, that depending on how I treated it. It would define how it grows. I looked down at my tiny hands and wondered why I was given such power, but then I reached up with mud-covered fingers and gripped my face.

I cried that day more than I had cried through my entire sickness. It was then I realized that my parents had laid their hands on my shoulders and scooped me into a giant hug. I mumbled that night, “Let me be as a wilted flower planted in new soil,” and hated the world a lot less than when I was covered in ox feces.

Life was different for me compared to the rest of the elven village. Most of the time, children begin spending time in the forest at the age of seven. They begin to practice skills like archery and hunting, trapping and gathering, or even a weak understanding of elven spirit magic.

I was still too weak to leave the village border, and my mother, Phidi Vestwood, took care of me as the truth of my frailty spread through the village and crushed any chance that I had to make friends. Because of my lack of friends, I found much of my time going to rest with my mother or climbing the small trees in the backyard. I would rise and lay amongst the leaves, just like the other kids were doing outside the border.

My mother was very protective of me, which never helped with the other village children. When I fell out of the small trees and got hurt, my mother went as far as to have some of the village workers remove the climbable trees in our yard. With no trees to climb, I spent all of my time learning to read the extensive elf library that we lived next to and never gave up my curiosity for anything in the village, even with my mother hovering over me and my six-year-old sister Seri in her arms.

At the tender age of nine, my body was finally catching up to the other elves in the village. My sister stood next to me as I was taught simple things like how to use the bow so that I could hunt outside the border. My sister, who was eight at the time, was a quick learner and passed me by in the bow in less than a month. I, on the other hand, had talent in the sword. I learned a lot from my dad. Even with my sword talent, I was still not allowed in the woods because of my weaknesses.

By the end of my ninth year, each of the titled Librarians knew my name, and I had read half of the books in the library. My frail body only made me read more as I could rest and read at the same time.

Elven culture is obsessed with generosity to the point that it is not uncommon to get regular visits from the city to sponsor smart village elves at the capital colleges. Generosity is a common measurement of wealth and power in elven culture and the sponsoring of libraries in small villages gives extreme power to aristocrats in the capital.

“Maybe you will get a Title for Librarian, child.” The old Librarian stated.

“Title?” I pondered. My curiosity at nine perked up at the mention of Titles as something new was placed before me. I had heard my mother speaking about titles with my genius little sister Seri who brought back a large bird on her first day. Her skills with the bow are prodigious. I wondered why I was never told about Titles, but the Librarian as a teacher was able to quell my need to find knowledge for this new word.

So at the age of nine, I learned how our world worked. The Librarian quickly explained that at the age of 15, I would receive a Title. The Title would impart great knowledge upon me and allow me to fulfill a purpose and to have the drive to fulfill that purpose. Some of the village boys would get hunters or scavengers. Some will get Titles of Warrior and General. The ladies before me had the Titles of Librarian and had been working the job for the many years of their long elven lives.

It was on this trip home that day that I, again, learned how the world works. Finding my mouth full of ox dung, Akeinan stood over me with his gaggle of ugly ducklings snickering next to him. Behind him, my sister was bawling and yelling at them to stop. I quickly put the pieces together. Today was my sister's day out in the forest. I was very close to my sister, and she was very excited when she was able to join the boys in the forest for training. There were even rumors that my younger sister showed potential with fire magic. As we were very close, she was very protective even though she was younger than me and must have mentioned that I was training on my way to the library.

I could only assume that Akeinan and his troops went out of their way once they found out that my young prodigy sister that they were very jealous of had a cripple brother. So out of pure spite, they came to bully said brother. Knowing that I had no way to fight back, I could only wrap the wounds once I got back home.

With this incident, I found resolve. I could not let my sister, an 8-year-old who already showed magical potential, outpace me as her older brother. I must do all I can do. I knew that I had to work very hard to make sure that I was not snuffed out by the gale wind that was my wonderful sister. I did not blame my sister for the incident though she apologized multiple times. I reaffirmed her and went back to the library before sunset to check out a book on indoor exercises to improve my weak 9-year-old body.

I was behind the other boys in the forest by a good two years at this point, so I had to improve quickly, and that night, I went to bed early after writing out my schedule to avoid bruises and run-ins with Akeinan’s devil posse. I included runs in the morning while they were out. Running and stretching in the evening before bed. I would do small exercises while reading at the library and read up on history to seek the wisdom of my predecessors.

My parents thought that this was too much for a boy at the age of nine, but because of how insistent I was, they let me do what I wanted. My body became very lean, and I was able to do so much more in the village. A lot of the older elves in the village who woke up early would wave or call out to me while I was running, which helped me get familiar with my neighbors by the age of ten. Though I was still hunted regularly by Akeinan and his goons.

While I would exercise in the library, I found books on the foundations of magic. Though I knew my sister was a prodigy and was already performing magic while hunting and playing in the forest, I did not know how she was doing the magic.

Magic came from spirits. Each had a different name and was split into three different categories. There were Lesser Spirits, spirits that could do little more than help someone call a small wind or start a small fire. They were born of Greater Spirits and were the third descendant of the spirit line. They are innumerable, and if they could be seen, one would be blinded by the many lights that they give off.

Greater Spirits are spirits of great magic that have an immense amount of control over the element that they preside over. They have enough power to create tornadoes and hurricanes when angry. There are only a little more than 10000 greater spirits that are split evenly over the elements. They are born of the Mother and Father Spirits of each element and are completely visible to the human eye. They commonly have a humanoid form and glow brightly when they find someone that they enjoy being around.

Lastly, there are the mystical Father Spirits of Earth and Water and the Mother Spirits of Air and Fire. The Father and Mother Spirit are the most powerful spirit of each element. The magic that they control is that of the natural cycles of the world. There was no record of these spirits binding to sentient life on the planet. They have bodies that represent the four major races of the planet. Humans are as plentiful as the air. Dwarves are as sturdy as the earth itself—elves as long-lived as the eternal flames, And Holokin, those with delicate animal features, beings as powerful as a summer storm.

From the way that my parents talked, my sister was having regular meetings with a Greater Fire Spirit. She does not have permission to share her name but does say that they are very close, but beyond basic magic has not formed a contract with the female Fire Spirit.

From reading about contracts, I found that to create a contract with a spirit, one must use the energy in their bodies that the books called Essence. Spirits love the stuff, and it is how a caster wields the magic of Spirits. By calling upon the essence in their bodies, with the help of the guidance of a spirit, they could perform actions on par with the Spirits’ strength. This essence was trained like a muscle and could become as vast as the seas.

When I read this, I found that some were born with large essence pools, and others had the potential to have large essence pools, but all are not created equal. At the age of ten, I was definitely behind on the practice of essence usage and had never even known that I had to work out this specific part of my body.

I looked for books on where this muscle was and found that the best way to work out this muscle was through mediation. If one focused on the heart, one could enter a space in their heart that would help the user grow their essence. To access this place, one had to have a minimum amount of essence in their body, and I did not succeed till later in my life.

At the age of eleven, I was finally able to enter this place in my heart space. I had tried for years to be able to enter this place, and finally, my body, now toned and muscular, but bruised and scraped by Akeinan, sat on a spotlight-lit ground before an empty throne and six braziers. I had grown tall like my father as I was beginning to sprout at the legs and chest. My hair was longer than his, but the face that sat below matched him at that age. I was the spitting image of my father.

For the first time in years, I wept. I was finally showing the growth that I wanted for myself. I did not know how my body on the outside was doing, but I was weeping because of the joy in my heart.

After my emotional beginning in my heart, I stood in the spotlight and breathed in. Not that there was anything to breathe in an incorporeal space, but it was comforting. I tried to walk around but found myself trapped in the spotlight. I could turn and pace around in the light, but I could not approach the throne or light the braziers.

Behind me was a doorway, and on the frame was written in half-golden glowing letters, a language that I was not familiar with, stretched a little more than halfway along the doorpost. I found myself confused, but It was vital for me to do the exercises that I had seen in the books.

These exercises were mental ones, and almost all authors just recommended that one sit in their space, fold their hands, and whisper to themselves about their lives. Describe their wants, their needs, their worries, and their pains. Authors recommend asking for things as many had wanted strength or wealth. Lastly, they recommend whispering about what you are thankful for.

I sat and folded my hands, and in a quiet voice, began my soon-to-be regular exercise. I spoke words that would come to be something that I would say regularly.

“I want strength, but I need wisdom,” I whispered.

“I worry for my family and wish for them to have comfort.” I yearned.

“I am being hurt by my brothers,” I cried.

“I want to be useful,” I screamed.

“But I am thankful for what I have been given,” I sighed.

Saying these things became as familiar to me as breathing. I was never able to leave the spotlight in that space, and as I approached the age of 15, things began to change around me.

***

The day that I turned 15 came around quickly after my regular meditations started. A crowd of more than 100 elves had begun to assemble in the town center. The smell of food carts filled the noses of each passerby after eleven bells banged away on the town clock. The mayor’s booming voice was amplified by a small wind spirit spread across the square.

“Quiet, quiet.” His voice was raspy and matched his sickly look that was not normal for a middle-aged elf. “Thank you all for attending this year's titling ceremony. Today we will be helping our young adults understand their paths in life.”

The old mayor looked down at the 10 other young youths and me, including Akeinan and some of his evil squadron. “Each of you will touch the Title Crystal, and it will impart a great sum of knowledge upon you. Your title will define your role in this village, and though you will not have to take your role for another three years, know that you will be called upon to do great work for this village. You do not have to reveal your title to the village but do not fear the world knowing your title because all Titles are given to us for a reason.

Cleaning his throat, the sickly mayor invited the first youth, going alphabetically. “Akeinan Vestwood. Please approach the Title Crystal.”

“Yes Sir.” Akeinan’s gloating smile and walk exuding confidence and cockiness was apparent and unique to the rest of the youths who leaked an air of nervousness.

Akeinan placed his hand on the crystal and it lit up a bright red and gold color. The process was longer than I expected, about 15 minutes. Akeinan slowly stepped back from the crystal with a massive smile on his face and sucked in a lungful of air like he was getting ready to shout.

And shout he did. “Welcome your new Beast Master to the village.” His volume rallied the amassed crowd into a cheerful volume that matched his own as he walked away from the crystal.

The other youth before me was titled one by one after that and my name was called much sooner than I realized, or maybe it was the nervousness that made the hour and a half of wait feel so much quicker than it actually was.

“Oli Vestwood. Please approach the Title Crystal.” The mayor declared.

I stepped up to the crystal and met my dad’s eyes as I raised my hand to the crystal. Right next to him, my sister was jumping up and down to try to see me as she was too short to see over the crowd just like my mom. I looked back to my dad and he gave me a nod as to say “go on.” I rested my hand on the cold hard surface of the stone before me with his encouragement.

As soon as I rested my hand on the crystal I was suddenly thrust into my heart extremely forcefully unlike the many times I had done it during my meditations. I found myself staring at the same familiar scene that I had found comfort in many times over the last four years of my life. I looked around again peering at the gate with the unknown language on it and found it filled about five-sixths of the way with golden light but did not see a title anywhere. The spotlight that illuminated the ground before me was much brighter and I felt much more essence seeping through me than I did before the ceremony. Before I could grasp anything more I was ripped from my heart and again stood in front of the crowd with no more information than I had before.

I stood silently in front of the crowd, found my dad’s eyes once more, and booked it for the house not staying to watch the rest of the ceremonies that would take place.

A bundle of emotions that I recognized as fear, indignation, and embarrassment rolled through my mind making each of my steps heavy enough to drown out the rest of the world as I ran to my room and shut the door. I moved my dresser in front of my door, blocking anyone from coming in to check on me, and locked the window so no light could get through.

I heard the door to the house swing open and my mother calls out for me “Oli, tell us what happened” and my father pounded on my door to try and get me to open up physically as well as emotionally. Each pound of the door was only drowned out by a storm in my head that bellowed “titleless” over and over again.

I heard my sister finally reach my door and with a soft voice between sobs that broke through the storm say “Brother, please open up so we can help you.”

I pushed the furniture in front of the door away but didn’t open it, keeping it locked in front of me.

“I didn’t get a title. I learned nothing. I am ashamed as an older brother and deserve to be nothing more than a failure to mom and dad. Please go away.” I let out in a monotone voice that attempted to hide how hurt I was by the series of events that took place this day.

I said nothing else, padded over to my bed, and cried myself to sleep. My words left the house eerily silent and filled with probably more astonishment than anything else.