Grace for The Fallen

Extraction

Theron Kynig

   I had always known that I was an Elf. How could I not? Both of my parents were Elves. Well… had been. They were dead. They had died when I was 10, leaving on a mission and never coming back. Everyone had been sorry, had felt pity. Even at that age, I had hated it. Hated the looks people gave me, as if I was something fragile, something breakable. But I never broke. Instead, at the age of 16, I became the youngest second-in-command The Valley had ever gotten.

   I couldn’t understand why people would break after a death. You grieve, and you move on. Breaking is useless. It gets you nowhere. It only pulls you down, makes you weak. Love was a fantasy. A way to justify your weakness after a person’s death. ‘I loved them.’ The most common excuse after you broke simply because you couldn’t handle the death of another. You could care for a person deeply. After all, I had cared for my parents. But love… no. Love was a term that was thrown out far too flippantly, in my opinion. As I saw it, nobody had ever loved anyone.

   Love, as I understood it, was a deep, unbreakable bond. It could not be severed by something like death. ‘I loved them’. ‘They were loved’. Loved. As if love could be cut off. As if it could be anything but eternal. No matter how wide the separation was, if you truly loved someone, you should have been able to find them. Not physically, of course. But in yourself, your very being. In your heart, for lack of a better term.

   This was just one of the many reasons that I disliked the humans so strongly. The Elves, at least, had known hardship and much – too much, thanks to them – loss. The humans just sat there, comfortable in their primped-up, prissy houses, and cried over the fact that the oh-so-scary Elves were going to take over the world one day and kill everything that moved. Please. It’s not like we were the antagonists in this confrontation. It’s not like we were the ones committing m*********r every day, like their precious Elf-killers. The way they said that title with such awe and adoration sickened me. And the rest of the humans just blindly followed them, too stupid to see what was right in front of their faces. Too stupid to see when they were being so blatantly exploited. I may have even pitied them, if it was possible for me to feel anything towards them but hatred.

   The surface beneath my feet changed from grass to hard-packed earth and I looked up at beautiful, open-air pavilion that served as our… Parliament building, I guess you could call it, here in The Valley. I was early, as I always was for these things, so I was the only one there. Or so I thought. As I stepped into the pavilion, the domed ceiling high above me and the breeze blowing gently through the open sides, my Elf hearing picked up a small sound. A suppressed giggle. I stopped and sighed.

   “Lydia Lou,” the rustling stopped abruptly, “Come out, I know you’re there.”

   There was a faint sigh of resignation, and a little blonde-haired girl with a lavender tinge to her skin crawled out from underneath the conference table. I grinned.

   “And what do you think you were doing under there, Missy?”

   “I heard the other Elflings talking about a rumour that there was an extraction team being sent out,” she pouted, “I just wanted to see if that was true. An extraction team hasn’t gone out in forever,” she moaned. I smiled and ruffled her hair.

   “You know that I will tell you what happens anyway,” I consoled.

   “I know, Ky,” she sighed, “But it would have been so much more fun to find out by myself.”

   “I know, I’m sorry, but you know that no Elflings are allowed in here when the council meets,” I reprimanded gently.

   “Ok,” she hung her head in disappointment, “I’ll go,” I gave her a quick hug.

   “Sorry, Dia. But I’ll come straight to you the moment the meeting ends and tell you everything,” she beamed up at me.

   “Thanks, Ky,” she skipped out of the pavilion just as the Elf Leader entered through the opposite side.

   “Theron,” she greeted curtly, the tense lines around her mouth informing me this wasn’t just some standard meeting. I nodded respectfully.

   “Lefal,” I responded. Only her council members were permitted to call her by her first name. Everybody else had to call her Elf Leader, or Leader. It was a great honour, and had taken me a while to get used to.

   Lefal was a good leader. She had kept us hidden and safe from the humans for over 80 years. She had short, silver hair with tanned skin and worry lines on her forehead and around her mouth, but she had smile lines too. She was kind and stern, and everybody loved and respected her. Her Elf heritage was shown through her hair – which had been silver her whole life and shone with a faint metallic sheen – as well as her ears.

   All Elves had some symbol, besides their ears, showing that they were an Elf. Mine was my head of green hair. Lydia’s was her lavender-tinted skin. This made it very hard for us to hide in the human world, but Elves that were the children of two humans had less prominent symbols, making it easier for them to stay hidden. Like eyes, for example. Or strangely coloured armpit hair (don’t ask, it’s happened).

   Lefal and I made small talk and waited for a few minutes as the rest of the council slowly trickled in. When everyone was there, we all sat at the large conference table in the middle of the room. There were twelve council members; one for each of the forgotten cities that had fallen on the fateful day when the peace between Elves and humans had been broken. The only city we had left out was Verchon. That city didn’t deserve to be remembered.

   I sat on Lefal’s left while Tane, a middle-aged Elf woman – and second in command – sat on her right. Everyone found their seats, and the meeting quickly began. Lefal was never one for wasting precious time.

   “I have called you all here for an important reason,” she began, “An Elf has recently come of age in Haverfield. Allegedly, she found out that she was an Elf last night, though how she has not yet been discovered is beyond me. I am going to need Theron to lead an extraction team, and get her out of, there,” at this point she looked at me, and I nodded, keeping my face carefully blank.

   “She may not have been discovered yet, but I have no doubt that she will be soon. We must reach her before they do. Remember the drill, any human that may have potentially seen you, or her, must be brought back here for a memory wipe. We absolutely cannot risk anybody finding out about our existence. Do you all know what you must do?” There were grave nods all around the table, and Lefal smiled grimly.

   “Good. Tane and Theron, come with me. The rest of you, prepare. Meeting adjourned.” There was a hasty scraping of chairs as Elves jumped out of their seats and rushed to get ready. We hadn’t had an extraction in over a year. The Elf-killers always got there before we even found out about the Elf’s existence. It was nice to finally be a step ahead of them for once, and we were going to make sure that we stayed that way for once. After discussing details with Lefal and Tane, I rushed off. I needed to get my team ready but first I had someone to meet.

   My feet followed the familiar path through The Valley towards a small stone cottage. I walked up the path and before I had even reached the front steps, the door burst open and an excited Elfling tumbled out, nearly tripping over her pretty green dress in her haste to get to me.

   “Ky!” Lydia squeaked enthusiastically and threw herself onto me. I didn’t even stagger as her minuscule weight slammed into me, and chuckled.

   “Whoa, slow down there, anyone might think that you were expecting some important news or something,” I teased, wanting to mess with her a little.

   “But I am, Ky!” She exclaimed, “Don’t you remember? I asked you for information,” her voice dropped to a conspirative tone.

   “Ah, right! Well, the crops are doing well, but they need more space. We’re hoping to expand…” My voice was cut off by an indignant, “Ky!”, and I threw my hands up in surrender.

   “Ok, ok! I’m leading an extraction team to Haverfield tonight.”

   A shriek, so loud that I had to grab my ears, rang through The Valley, and I glared down at Lydia.

   “That’s the thanks I get?” I grumbled, but she didn’t seem to hear me.

   “I knew it!” She crowed triumphantly, “You have to tell me everything when you get back. Tell me what it’s like out there…” her gaze turned wistful, and I smiled sadly, rage for the humans swelling up once again in my chest.

   “I will, Little One,” I promised and stroked her blonde hair. She grinned up at me, all solemnity gone.

   “Best big almost-brother in the world,” she announced. I grinned back at her.

   “Right back at you, Dia.”

   I kissed her forehead softly and began walking backwards down the path.

   “Tell your Mama and Pa that I said hi!” I yelled, and stayed long enough to hear the “ok” in response, before turning around and running through The Valley once more. Time to assemble my team, then gear up for tonight.

   A few hours later, I found myself standing at the wards around The Valley with my team, all heavily stocked with tranquilizers and deadlier weapons in case we ran into the Elf-killers. I turned from where I had been watching The Valley and passed through the wards, the other Elves falling into step behind me.

   We were on our way to Haverfield. 

-Rebecca Underwood