The Last Uprising (Of Sylphs and Elves Book 1)

  The Last Uprising

  By Luna Lais

  Cover Art by Kim Sung Hwan

  Beginnings

  A chill wind rose among the Aelyron Forest, leaves just feeling the urgings of autumn danced and rustled brown and yellow and red and orange skirts in a hushed whisper. Birds chirped sparsely, most too busy preparing for winter's bite, and other woodland critters kept their noses to the ground to gather their stores of food. The sun hung twice its own height from the western horizon, and the canopy allowed thin beams of evening light to filter through. Another wind rose, but this time accompanied by a horrid sound, a rending of steel and iron, a reaction of fire and metal, so it was more a fist than a gentle breeze.

  * * *

  Three miles from the forest's northern edge, a clearing had been made. In this clearing sat what appeared to be a squat metal building, little more than a bunker for any who saw it. However, this "bunker" was held with a thick steel door, with not so much as a handle to open it from the outside.

  * * *

  Outside the door stood four individuals, all huddled intently over one of the bottom corners of the steel monolith, speaking fervently in hushed whispers.

  "No, no, Delron! You're supposed to put the red wire here," piped in lean Azel. Her light voice managed to carry an air of mischief no matter what words she spoke. True to her name, her short hair was the colours of a sea wracked in the throes of a storm; that hair framed her pixie-like face nicely, which managed to make her face seem perpetually innocent as a newborn babe. A small handgun was belted at her side, and her sleek rifle was, at present, slung across her back, out of the way of her hands but still easily reachable. Her only piece of jewelry, if it could be considered that, was a circular bandolier of silver bullets which dangled from her belt down to mid-thigh.

  Another of the group, a gruff and grizzled looking male, who stood a head shorter than the blue-haired gunslinger he stood beside, clapped a hard calloused hand across her shoulder.

  "Let him be, Blue, he knows what he's about," he said, but even he eyed the device that their leader held with cautious worry. "What's it matter which wire goes in first, as long as it goes in the proper place?"

  "It matters lots! If the wire sparks because of a prematurely completed circuit…" She finished by making an explosive sound through her teeth. "And the forest gets a fine coat of Grand-brand paint."

  The shorter man's eyes widened for the briefest of moments before he corrected himself. He still carefully caressed the long-hafted axe at his side worriedly. "Oh….Don't want that, I guess…"

  "Not at all. Can't exactly get a proper second coat. Imagine how difficult it'll be to find a properly mixed can of Grand paint in this neck of the woods," said a third man, just past his boyhood. His unkempt auburn hair pulled back and down his shoulders by a thin leather cord. His face, which could have been handsome if not for the crescent-moon scar that carefully framed his left eye, held the look of one who took life easily, one corner of his mouth always tilted up in a mischievous grin. At his side was belted what at first appeared to be a hand-and-a-half handled knife, except that in place of a knife blade it had a spearhead. "Oh, and we'd miss you, of course," he finished, almost as an afterthought.

  Grand's eyes narrowed slightly, then even more when Azel giggled behind him. Delron's chuckles did little to alleviate his near-scowl. "Hardy-har-har, boy. Don't make me come over there and chop that mop offa yer head." His warning was spoiled by the grin that fought to tug at his lips.

  "Alright, guys, cut that out. This thing's ready," said their leader, Delron. The tallest of the lot, he stood a full head and shoulders above Azel, giving him a very commanding presence that was amplified by a long jagged scar that had ruined his right eye. Even with the wound, he had a face to make most women swoon when he passed by, and broad shoulders to make them turn their heads to watch as he walked on. Leaning against the door was his weapon of choice: a heavy hand-and-a-half sword with ivory inlaid in the hilt that matched the white streaks that winged his temples. Picking up his sword and attaching the device to the door in the same motion, he said, "Get to the sides—last thing we need's one of us getting turned into shrapnel-flavoured Turan cheese."

  The team of four quickly dashed thirty paces or more away from the building, Grand going so far as to leap into a bush—the others laughing uproariously at that—and waited for the inevitable explosion.

  The door erupted into a blossom of fire and metal and earth, shaking the surrounding area to the core. So loud was it that Selmari was sure he felt two or three teeth vibrate out of his gums. A stray piece of shrapnel flew up into the tree just above Grand's bush, breaking off a branch that fell straight into said bush, causing the short man to shout in pain and stumble from the foliage rubbing the already forming knot at the back of his skull.

  "Owww!! Dag-dangit! Just my starlost luck!" he shouted, a complaint that was quickly ignored along with the knot on his head.

  * * *

  The operation had begun. They each had a job to do, and the time for banter was past for the moment. Azel was up first, slinging her rifle around with a twist of her shoulders and into her nimble hands. His ears still ringing from the explosion, Sel couldn't hear the sound of bullets streaking down the hallway, even though he now stood not two paces from the gunslinger. He had already drawn his spear-knife from its leather clasp, and he seized the magic flowing through his veins and ready to unleash it at the soonest need.

  "-t's good, Az. Grand, you take point!" came Delron's voice from somewhere behind him just as the ringing faded. Selmari saw that there hadn't been any sentries in the hallway, so that Azel's ammunition had embedded itself into the far wall, wasted.

  Grand did as he was ordered, raising his long axe up like a pike, carefully hugging the right wall. The others followed closely, each careful to watch every direction at once.

  "Delron, I dun like this. Not a single guard 'n sight. Not even around the corner…" Grand intoned, frowning disappointedly.

  "Well, why would they think to place guards when they have a foot-thick steel door with no handle or hinges? Now shush! We can't hear them coming if you keep talking," came Azel's quick retort, cutting Delron off before he could even open his mouth. And with that, they came upon the second corner…

  Grand slowly and carefully put his head out into the hall, and immediately jerked it back just in time to avoid a javelin that, having missed its target, sunk a full half-foot into the wall. Delron held his sword at the ready, and Sel flicked his spear-knife, making the handle extend to twice its original length.

  "How many?" Delron demanded curtly, his ruined eye making his scowl that much fiercer.

  "Lots. Twenty, maybe," answered Grand, clenching his jaw tight at knowing how close he'd come to losing an ear. "But I can't fight in these small hallways, not and avoid hittin' you, too."

  "Not a problem. Sel, let's go. You two cover us if we have to pull back."

  The two warriors rushed ahead of the others, darted around the corner, and were met with a score of opponents. Elves, by the look of them, ears pointed back and skin nearly pallid in its paleness and gold eyes rimmed in black. They each carried their own handful of javelins or daggers, and were certainly not selfish with them. Sel blanched when a thrown dagger bit into his calf, but felt relief when it was only a glancing blow.

  Javelins rained down upon the two, who had taken opposite sides of the hallway in their advance. Delron raised his steel, skillfully hacking away at spear-hafts and deflecting daggers despite the weight of the sword. So surprised was the first Elf on his side to see that not a single blade had found its mark that he noticed the sword in his
side three seconds too late to roll away, and fell in a crumpled and bloody heap.

  While Delron carved a swathe through the elven ranks, barrelling through the pale men like a marauding bear, Sel seemed to dance with the soldiers. His short spear twirled around his arm as he spun on his heels and ducked, loosing a frost bolt into another Elf's chest. He threw out his left foot and caught another by the heel, sending him to one knee long enough for another frost bolt to remove his arm and other leg. From behind, an Elf leapt into the air with his spear-point leading. The poor soul never saw that Selmari had already rolled to the side and thrown his short-spear, which shortened in the haft as it flew, and hilted it in his side.

  He threw back his arms and threw a third and fourth frost bolt around his back into the final pair of elves before briskly retrieving his spear-knife, its carved mithril blade unsoiled by golden elven blood.

  "Well, that was a workout," he chuckled, clasping the weapon in place on his belt. He looked over to see Delron coming over to him, golden yellow blood making his boots slick on the smooth tiled floor.

  "We definitely get to earn our pay checks on this one, if elves are about." The way he had said 'elves' made the word sound like a foul curse fit for a tavern brawler. "If they didn't know we were here before, they do now. I saw one of them bolting down the hall."

  At that point, Grand came up behind them wearing a glum expression, which only worsened when he saw all the fighting he'd missed. "Darn it, you three have all the fun. What's an old man to do?"

  "'Three'? Where's Az?" Selmari asked, his head tilted to one side.

  "She used my head as a step ladder and climbed up into the ceiling. Said somethin' about a hunch 'n kicked me right 'n the nose." Now that he mentioned it, there was a faint outline of boot-dust marring his forehead, as Sel noticed.

  "A hunch?" Delron asked with incredulity, looking first at Sel, then Grand, and then back again before they all three said in unison, "That's not good." After a short laugh between the trio, they turned and started down the hall, mindful not to slick their boots further with blood.

  An hour passed without another skirmish or even a single room, only a stairway at the end of the first hallway that led to a new hall, which again led to another stair and hall. In truth, had they not taken a full minute to take each corner they would not have taken so long, Sel thought with a sigh, but the possibility, and anxiety, of ambush only grew with every passing step. Soon they were all three flinching at the echo of their own footfalls, and growing more irritated.

  "Gah!" Selmari finally exclaimed, exasperated and perturbed. "Enough, already! We've been here for two whole hours, and haven't seen a single room?" He turned a furrow-browed frown toward his companions and threw up his arms.

  "Th' boy's got a point, Delron. Somethin's fishy here. We haven't heard from Blue since we started, and it doesn't look like anyone's used these hallways in months," Grand pointed out, even more offset at the eerie silence and from pure boredom. Delron nodded in agreement, offering an apologetic tightening of his mouth and a shrug. He reached up to his ear and gently touched the metal communication device with two fingers.

  "Az, can you hear me?" His eyes still fervently scanned the walls, looking for any possible false one. Grand sat down on his heels and traced patterns in the wood of his axe haft. "You found what? I can't hear you, there's too much interference." Delron's voice carried concern, what parts he'd heard must not have been good. Sel embraced the magic and waited for the bad news.

  Delron's face went from concern to worry, then to controlled fear. "Elves? But you found the girl? Good, be extremely careful." Whether he meant about the elves or whoever this girl was, Sel couldn't tell, but he had a suspicion that he'd meant both. "Okay, guys," Delron let his hand fall and looked back the way they had come. "You're not going to like this…but we've been going absolutely nowhere. This hallway's tricked us," he had turned and started walking back by this point, towards the latest corner, "more than I'd care to admit. Yep, just what I was afraid of." They turned the corner and came upon the mess they had made at the entrance, as if they hadn't just walked half a mile down.

  "What?? You've gotta be kidding me!" Grand shouted, stamping his foot and grinding his teeth in a fury. "Raahhgghh!" he growled as he slammed his axe blade into the nearest dead body, seething. It was a wonder that he wasn't foaming at the mouth—if there was anything Grand hated more than being tricked by magic, neither Sel nor Delron believed it existed.

  "Calm down, Grand. Don't waste your energy. Sel, can you remove the illusion?" Delron had put a comforting hand on Grand's shoulder, assuring him that it was his fault and that he was sorry.

  As asked, Selmari walked to the corner and stared down the empty hallway. Now filled with the magic, feeling life itself coursing through his veins and his senses heightened far beyond their limit, he could see the threads of the spell at work. It was a simple matter to remove the enchantment, like cutting a piece of string with a pair of shears, and the spell unravelled before his eyes.

  Unfortunately, he was not prepared for what was directly behind that magicked illusion, a pair of women sprinting for all they were worth, too busy looking over their shoulders to notice the man they trampled in their haste to be away from whatever nightmare chased them. Bright lines and shapes in colours no words could describe preceded the black of unconsciousness that washed over Sel's sight…

  2

  Fated Meetings

  Morning broke through the greying clouds early the day after their successful mission. The team all were assembled in a room marked 206H, an infirmary room with glowing fluorescent light fixtures hanging from the ceiling uniformly, lighting the room evenly in a soft luminescence, gathered around the single flat bed at one end. Delron stood at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed gently on his chest, his good eye focused on the unconscious form of his comrade and friend. Selmari had been trampled by the girls, he and Grand had to drag him out of the bunker and through the forest by his feet to get away from the Elves that had pursued Azel and the other girl.

  Remembering that brought the "other girl" in question to his attention. With a quick glance, both to not appear rude and to not be seen looking, he took in the woman's features. Without a doubt, Delron thought, she was striking. Her sandy hair had been tied back into a thick braid that ended halfway down her back. Her eyes, a pair of piercing white-blue orbs that always seemed slightly hazy as if she was constantly in thought, complemented the light hair that framed her strong face, with its narrow nose and slightly pouting lips. Delron immediately made sure he was carefully observing the floor tiles when those eyes flitted to him as if knowing he had been staring.

  The other two, Grand and Az, were poking fun at each other, Grand teasing that it was all her fault that Sel had been trampled, that he'd seen her boot print on the boy's coat, while the gunslinger poked at the fact that the men had been walking in circles for nearly two hours. Neither got to the inevitable growling and slapping, nor even close, when the trampled in question opened one eye and rubbed the back of his hand against the other.

  "Why's it so darn bright? Somebody turn the sun down, wouldja?" he mumbled, pulling his pillow across his face. With a start, the two bickering buddies hopped up and proceeded to yank the pillow from his hands and smack him with it. Or, rather, Azel did, while Grand provided hand-grabbing support.

  "Ya lazy bum! Get outta bed!" chortled Grand, Sel jerking his hands this way and that with visible effort.

  "Yeah!" Smack. "Or I'll keep," Smack. "Hitting you!" Smack.

  "Ow! Hey! I-ow!-can't with you holding me down!" With a grunt, he heaved his entire body away from his attackers, which led to a loud thud as he fell right off the bed at the other woman's feet. After a stunned moment, Selmari blinked away his daze and found himself looking up at the other one who'd trampled him the day before. For the briefest of moments, the boy hesitated with a furrowed brow, but quickly wiped the look away and grinned.

  "Oh. Hello there!" he greeted, his
tone trying to sound as if he hadn't just rolled off a hospital bed after being assaulted with a fluffy pillow. "You must be the one who…er, we were sent to rescue." He had been about to say "The one who trampled me," but that wouldn't have been nice, now would it?

  "Uh-huh!" replied the braided woman. "My name is Eryes, and you must be Selmari. I have to thank you for aiding in my rescue," her cheeks coloured slightly, "and apologize for running all over you."

  "Haha, no harm done. And you are more than welcome, Miss Eryes." By this time, the conversation had turned awkward, with Sel looking up at Eryes from the floor, tangled in a white linen sheet. Delron couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

  "Comfy down there, Kiddo? Looks kinda hard on the lower back," he joked, causing all but the mage to erupt into giggles. By the end of it, even Sel was chuckling, after a difficult scramble to get to his feet. He slipped twice, and eventually had to be untangled with the help of Grand and Eryes.

  After a short breakfast, the team wandered to their tiny squad common room. A small square room, it had many of the comforts of home. The steel walls were tinted a soft grey, one section of wall covered in photos, mostly consisting of Sel or Grand in some awkward position or another. In one, the axe man was shown fleeing from a room, one foot out the door, with an angry Azel in only a towel dashing after him with a razor in each hand and murder in her eyes. Another depicted Selmari hanging from a tree by his ankles, caught in a simple rabbit trap that Azel had constructed. The floor was carpeted in floral and faunal designs, Azel's influence, no doubt, and in the centre stood a single, small table surrounded on two sides by sofas. A small fireplace sat at the far wall, a picture of the four compatriots decorating the mantle.