Micah

I wander around the area that surrounds the citadel and then I float towards the woods as the sky turns grey and a red flare burns on the horizon.

I don’t know how long I meander among the pine trees until my ears fish a delicate swishing sound and my eyes fix on a flickering red light. I move closer and stop.

My eyes slide over the man sitting with one knee bent. The fire crackles and red sparks shoot into the air as the flickering light illuminates his aristocratic white face and pointed ears. Yes, pointed like he’s some fucking elf. His white hair is plaited like an artist has styled it, and it reaches down to his waist. Fucking hell. Like he’s a woman. Except cold fierceness radiates from him. I can sense the warrior lurking inside of him and something else. It’s grey, powerful, mysterious, some kind of magic I’ve never come across before.

He turns his face and his icy blue eyes bore through me.

“Fuck off,” he says.

I don’t know which hits me harder—the language he speaks or the fact that he can see me.

“Can you see me?” I ask.

“I said fuck off.” He throws a few twigs into the fire.

I notice a blanket, a bag and a bow around him.

“Man,” I say. “Be a human.” I can’t recognise his language, but I can speak it.

“I’m an elf not a human. Get lost.”

“Fuck,” I growl. “Fuck.”

“I said fuck off.”

“Man.” I come closer to him. “I’m fucked, you know. Dead, I mean.”

“You’re not dead. You’re asleep. You’re a projection. Now, back the fuck up.”

“Man, be an elf. I’m desperate. They’re all asleep. Cursed or something. Nobody can see me, except you.”

If I’m not dead, there is a chance the others may be stuck somewhere in the past like me. We fell asleep for some mysterious reason and I need to find a way to return to my body and wake my whole family.

“Every elf would be able to see you,” the elf says.

I squat down. “You mean there are more of you?”

“Two hundred, but we’re leaving this plane soon.”

“I know. You left two thousand years ago.”

Now, I have his attention. One corner of his lips crooks up.

“Are you from the future?” he asks.

“I will tell you only if you help me.”

“Fuck off.”

“There are really interesting discoveries in the future.” I won’t give up. He’s a fucking elf. They were magical creatures almost as powerful as angels. “Humans learn to fly for example. They learn to build weapons that can erase thousands within a split second.”

“Humans should be erased for their stupidity.”

I think feverishly. “Have you ever seen an angel mating with a mermaid?”

“No, you?”

“My wife is their daughter. She’s so unique.”

He nods, but no emotion is visible on his face. “Tell me more and maybe I’ll help you.” He smirks. “If the story is intriguing enough.”

So I start telling him my story.

He doesn’t interrupt, just nods from time to time.

As the day is about to dawn, he extinguishes the fire, waves his hand at me and guides me through the woods.

“Micah,” I say. “My name is Micah. Yours?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Be a human. Have a heart.”

“I’m an elf not a human.”

“What’s your name?”

“Ettrian.”

We move at a steady pace as I watch him. He is tall like us, well built, but not massive. His clothes comprise a brown tunic and narrow trousers stuffed into knee-high boots. A wide belt with an ornate buckle encircles his waist.

As the sun peaks, we pour out of the woods and enter a village. Stone houses adorned with wooden lacy ornaments and surrounded by colourful gardens rise in front of my eyes, ten maybe twelve in total. Bridges are thrown over the stream burbling its peaceful song and two paths cross in the centre of the village where a fountain stands. I see more people of his kind, tall and graceful like him. Their ageless faces turn to me, but they show no emotion.

We move towards one of the houses and walk inside through the arched wooden door. An elf-woman greets my companion as her cold eyes slide over me.

“A projection?” she asks.

“From the future,” Ettrian says.

The elf-woman sends me a mysterious glance and tilts her head. Her white long hair waves and shimmers. She’s beautiful like an ice sculpture and exudes the air of wisdom. I bet she knows much more about the world than me.

“Interesting,” she says.

Ettrian drops into an armchair in front of a stone fireplace.

“Your wife?” I ask.

“My sister, S’Ylla,” he says. “Two hundred years older than me.”

His sister wrinkles her nose. “Very nosy that friend of yours, brother.”

“A former angel,” Ettrian says.

“A former angel?” There is a flicker in S’Ylla’s eyes and she gazes at me. “You lost your wings? I can’t sense you because you are only a projection.”

“We gave up our wings,” I say.

The elf-woman settles herself in another armchair. “Tell me your story.”

“My leader fell in love with a mermaid,” I start as her lips curl into a half-smile. “Demons killed her and chopped off his wings so the rest of us gave up our wings to resurrect her.”

“Did you succeed?” S’Ylla asks, her elbow propped on the armrest.

“Yes,” I say.

S’Ylla nods several times. “He loved her. He really loved her. Very intriguing.”

“We have to live in hiding,” I say.

“The archangels will slaughter you when they find you,” S’Ylla says.

I get the impression that she is not a fan of archangels. “I fought with my brother. For a woman.”

“I assume only one of you is alive now?” S’Ylla says.

I nod. “We all fell asleep. One after another.”

“Who is your wife?”

“She has an angel father and a mermaid mother,” I say. “I saw them all fall asleep, just like that. My wife’s finger was bleeding. She said she’d pricked it with a needle. It must have been a needle from some fucking black witch. She fell asleep like the rest of my family. And there is this wall of vegetation around the compound, separating it from the whole world.”

S’Ylla props her elbows on her knee, rests her chin against her palms, and sinks into her thoughts. “A unique child, love, rage. A drop of blood. A pinch of black magic. Such an interesting accumulation of energy. It centred and created a curse. I saw something like this once. They were asleep for one hundred years.”

“How can I reverse this curse?” I ask.

“You can’t,” S’Ylla says. “Only the sacrifice of a person who loves you can reverse it and since you’re all asleep there is nobody to sacrifice themselves. You’ll sleep for eternity.”

It doesn’t concern her at all. What a heartless bitch.

“Help me,” I say.

“We can’t help you,” S’Ylla says. “We don’t love you. We don’t care for you. And your whole family is cursed. Does anybody else know about you or care enough for you to wake you?”

I start pacing around the room. “So what now? I have to wander like a ghost?”

“Probably,” S’Ylla says. “It’ll be interesting, you’ll see. You don’t have to eat or sleep. You’ll witness wonders.”

“Are the others the same as me?” I ask. “Are they somewhere in the past as well?”

“I don’t know,” S’Ylla says.

“You are fucking guardians as were we,” I explode.

“Did you care when you were a guardian?” S’Ylla asks with a pinch of sarcasm.

“No.” It was my duty, and I didn’t care for anything except killing demons, getting drunk and fucking human women.

I watch the flames dancing in the fireplace. “Who are we? Do you know who we really are? I have no memories of my past, my childhood. It was just this fucking sense of duty binding us to our little castle.”

“You’re the sons of the Fallen Angels,” S’Ylla says. “Your human mothers died during labour and the archangels stripped you of memories. You are trash meant to serve, not to think. To serve not to have feelings. But you’re rebels like your fathers. I’ve seen a few like you. They rebelled and ceased to exist.”

“That could explain a few things,” I say.

“Get lost,” Ettrian says. “We are going to have supper and then we want to sleep.”

S’Ylla waves her hand as though I’m an annoying fly. “Go away. We’re busy.”

“Ettrian,” I growl. “You said you’d help me.”

“I just did,” Ettrian says. “Now, fuck off.”

“Fuck you two,” I say and pull forward, leaving the house through the walls.

I wander around the village. Right. Those elves are haughty assholes, both of them.

Strange, but I don’t feel hungry or thirsty. I don’t feel cold or hot. I’m a fucking projection, after all.

The village is surrounded by an abundance of vegetation in all shades of green—emerald, sea, dark green. Those colours mingle with delicate yellow hues, grey hues, and purple hues. I’ve never seen trees like the ones rising in front of my eyes now. The trunks have a black glassy tinge and the navy leaves shimmer like gems.

A shadow flashes among the trees. Then another. I steel myself. My eyes scan my surroundings. Growling comes to my ears. A deadly sound makes me spin. Fucking hell. I’ve never heard anything like this. I hear more dangerous sounds—grunts, screeches, chants. My surroundings waver, thicken, and darken. I realise more shadows are moving around me. Shadows as tall as angels, massive like mountains. They’re hairy and exude the stench of rot.

I can’t see anything for a moment.

Then I notice one of them out of the corner of my eye. It’s moving towards me at a fast pace. I turn to the side as an animal-like figure passes through me and emits a primal scream.

I know what these creatures are. They’re Kluddes. They look like gigantic dogs, but they are not friendly. They’re blood-thirsty predators killing for fun. And they’re aiming for Ettrian’s village.

One of them stops and looks at me with dark human-like eyes. He grunts something and snarls, exposing his massive sharp teeth. I watch him rise on his back feet and sweep his front leg. It passes through me, and I bend instinctively, guarding my chest.

Right. The Kluddes can see me as well.

The creature growls his disappointment that he can’t hurt me and ignores me.

I move back as more of those creatures pass through me and they attempt to smack me. A thought hits me. I have to warn the elves.

I straighten and spurt forward, passing through whatever is on my way.

I feel like I’m flying above the ground. As I reach Ettrian’s village, I invade his house and check all the rooms upstairs, shouting my warning.

Ettrian emerges from his bedroom with only linen pants on and rubs his eyes. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“Kluddes,” I yell.

“What?”

“Kluddes, you idiot.”

“They’re an extinct species, you idiot.”

I sweep my arms furiously. “They’re coming for you, you idiot.”

Ettrian freezes then inhales deeply and curses in his elven language. “I can sense them. Fuck. Go to warn all the others.”

I move back then leave the house and invade every house in the village, shouting my warning. The elves wake up, slide into their trousers and tunics and grab their bows and arrows and swords. As I warn the last family, I stand in the centre of the village and see hell.