Elfin

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3

“The old adage, if you can’t beat them, join them, is just a way of saying that you’re weak. My motto is, if you can’t beat them, then you aren’t fighting dirty enough.” ~Triktapic

Trik played poker well into the early morning hours. After he had taken enough of the humans’ money, he looked at his friend and made a motion with his head to leave the table. Now they sat in a quiet bar enjoying the only time, day or night, that the city was somewhat subdued. Tony sat across from him, looking like a model from a GQ magazine in his custom suit. His blonde hair was fixed in a messy style, which probably only took a couple of passes from gel-slicked fingers. He was tall, though not as tall as Trik, and it was obvious he worked out. He had a strong jaw line and his nose was slightly crooked from being broken two too many times. Fighting had been his thing in high school; not street fighting, but organized fighting for money. He had been good, undefeated for the four years that he was there.

Tony was young to be the manager of a Casino, especially one as large as the Iniquity. He’d turned twenty-one only a few months ago and his father, who had worked for the dark elves for the past thirty years, had been only too happy to pass the title, and the stress that went with it, to his only son.

“So, are you going to tell me what brought you to my lovely city?” Tony asked as he lifted his glass to his lips, taking a sip of Cognac, the gold liquid glistening in the glass as the lights reflected off of it.

Trik smiled. “A woman.”

Tony chuckled. “Isn’t it always. Some hot little elf number trying to tie you down?”

“If only it were something so simple.” Trik ran his fingers through his dark hair. He was still in his human guise. Though he had known Tony since he was fifteen, when Trik had seen one of the boy’s fights, he had still never shown Tony his true form. Doing so would be the equivalent of signing the human’s death warrant. Tony’s father, who also knew the true identity of Trik and the other elves with which he did business, had also never seen any of them in their natural forms.

Tony sat up and leaned his forearms on the table. “Whoa, you’re really rattled. I don’t think I have ever seen you look so, so….” He struggled to find the right word, “human.” He finally settled on the only word that would really describe his friend’s frustrated look and agitated movements, all of which were very un-elf like. “Come on, Trik, spill it. I can tell that you need to talk about it and you obviously don’t feel like you can talk to any of your people or you wouldn’t be here.”

Trik let out an exasperated breath. “She’s human.”

“Damn,” Tony muttered as he sat back in his chair, taking another sip of his drink.

“That’s only part of it,” Trik told him with a sardonic laugh. “I’m pretty sure she’s my Chosen.”

“Double damn,” Tony added.

“Oh, and one more thing…she’s in high school.”

Tony choked on the sip that he had been taking when Trik had shared that last tidbit.

“Please tell me she’s legal,” he said as he slung the spilled liquor from his hand.

“I have no idea of her age.”

“How did you meet her?” Tony asked.

Trik let out a menacing chuckle that made Tony’s skin crawl.

“Those damn light elves. She saw them in their true form and she was running from them.”

“I thought you said that there was only one more thing back at the whole high school issue,” Tony said sarcastically.

“I lied,” Trik growled. “Her father works for one of the light elves’ conglomerates. They will have no trouble finding her.”

“So why aren’t you with her?”

“Tamsin won’t act until he has spoken with his counsel. That should buy me at least a night to decide my next move.”

“Have you decided?” Tony asked.

“If she is my Chosen, then I have no choice but to protect her.”

“How do you know if she is? I’m assuming there isn’t a big arrow pointing down at her, flashing ‘Chosen’ over her head.”

“She saw through my guise. She saw my true form. In all my centuries in this realm, no human—as in none, zip, zilch, nada—has ever been able to do such a thing.” Trik explained.

“Wait, so has there ever been a human Chosen before?” Tony asked with a thoughtful frown.

“I know of only one other, but it was with a light elf and it was a long time ago.”

“What do you mean was? I thought you guys were immortal.”

“We are, in our own realm. And if the human comes to our realm, then they too will not age, they will stay forever young. This woman wanted to stay in the human realm and so her Chosen stayed with her. He aged with her and died with her.”

“Man, that’s depressing,” Tony said, shaking his head.

Trik laughed. “Some would say it was romantic.”

“Romance is a lie that gives people an excuse to act like fools. Later, when they come to their senses, they blame their foolishness on the object of their affections.” Tony sneered.

Trik clucked his tongue at his friend. “My, my, Tony. If I didn’t know better, I would say that you are a lover scorned.”

“Or perhaps I am the fool,” Tony told him, his good humor returning. “That’s a discussion for another time, or never. You need to go talk to someone you trust who can tell you if it’s possible this child is your Chosen.”

Trik groaned. “Please do not call her a child, that’s just sick. She looks like a grown woman, I assure you. There was nothing childlike about her.”

“Please, man, that means nothing. I work in the casino business. I see fifteen-year-old girls come through here all the time and until they open their mouths and speak, you would swear that they were over twenty-one.”

“I will find out her age before I pursue this further. You’re making me feel like a dirty old man,” Trik frowned.

Tony laughed. “Well the old part is correct and I’ve seen the way women watch you as you walk by, so I would gamble you’re quite dirty as well.”

Trik waved his friend off as he stood to go. “You humans know nothing of pursuing a woman, making her feel like she is the only one who could ever captivate your attention.”

Tony lifted his glass in a toast. “Please, by all means, teach me, oh wise one. How I long to captivate the beautiful females of this great city.”

Trik laughed. “Sorry, my friend, but you are hopeless. Not even my expertise would work for you.”

Tony slapped his hand on his chest. “Ouch, that was harsh Trik.”

“The truth hurts. Isn’t that what you humans say?” Trik started out of the bar as he called over his shoulder. “I’m borrowing the mirror in your suite.”

“Have at it. Oh, and take your girl a balloon and teddy bear, I hear those are things kids like.” Tony chuckled and ducked when the coaster he knew would be coming at his head sailed passed him.

***

Trik entered Sanctuary through the back door. In the bowels of the large manor that the dark elf king and his mate occupied, sat what humans might call a dance club, though his kind called it a refuge. It was a place for dark elves to gather. Food, drink, and other pleasures, flowed throughout the room. Music, seductive to the senses, ran across his skin. He cast a shield over himself to keep the hypnotizing notes from drawing him in. He was looking for someone, and he didn’t have time to stay and play. Several of the females vied for his attention, but he declined with a smile and kept walking. At the very back of the room in a dark corner, he found the man he was looking for.

“Trik, to what do I owe this honor?” Myrin, the oldest and wisest of the dark elf elders, asked him.

“I need to speak with you in private,” Trik told him, making sure to keep his tone respectful, while trying to impress upon Myrin the urgency of the situation.

Myrin must have seen the earnestness in Trik’s eyes because he stood without a word and motioned for the other dark elf to follow.

Trik followed the elder out of Sanctuary and down a dark corridor. Finally reaching a wooden door, Myrin pushed it open and stepped back for Trik to enter. Trik, being the suspicious assassin that he was, didn’t move. He would never allow a powerful being such as the elder at his back. Myrin rolled his eyes and stepped into the room first.

“What is so urgent that you would pass up the company of the lovely she-elves so eagerly offering you their company?” Myrin asked as he lowered himself onto a very worn overstuffed chair. Trik chose to remain standing.

“I need to if a human can ever be the Chosen of a dark elf?” Trik asked bluntly.

Myrin’s eyes narrowed as he watched the king’s greatest assassin and spy.

“I know that it can happen, though it is extremely rare.”

“Why?” Trik asked tersely.

“Why can it happen or why is it rare?” Myrin leaned back deeper in the chair and crossed one leg over the other.

“Yes,” Trick answered as he began to pace.

“I’m not sure why it happens, or how. However, I believe that it is rare simply because we limit our interactions with the humans. I think that it would probably happen much more often if we spent more time in direct contact with the humans in their realm.”

“How do you know if one is your Chosen?”

“There is one sign, and one sign only, that I know of.”

Trik waited for an explanation. When it didn’t come, he huffed. “Well, out with it.”

Myrin chuckled. “I don’t believe that I have ever seen Lorsan’s great killer so out of sorts.”

Trik’s eyes flashed menacingly. “I respect you old one, but my patience is wearing thin.”

“Tsk, tsk, Trik. There is no need for idle threats,” Myrin sighed. “If she is your Chosen, then she will be able to see you in your true form, without your help,” he continued, deciding it was unwise to goad the assassin further.

Trik sat down hard on the couch opposite the elder as the words echoed ominously through his mind. A string of profanities in his own language poured from his lips as he considered the consequences.

“Trik,” Myrin leaned forward, watching him closely. “You’ve met your Chosen.” It wasn’t a question.

“She’s a human, practically a child,” Trik ground out through clenched teeth.

Myrin sucked in a breath. “Well that is impossible. A child can never be revealed as a Chosen, even if she were meant to be one. She has to have undergone her maturing.”

Trik looked up, his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean maturing?”

“I’m not totally sure what it means for humans, but for our kind she has to be matured to the point of being able to bear a child and be free from the shelter of her sire and mother.”

“She still lives with her parents, but I swear by the king that there was nothing childlike about her, other than a certain innocence,” Trik added the last part as an afterthought.

“You are sure that she is your Chosen?” Myrin asked.

“She saw my natural form while I was in my human guise,” Trik answered. “I’m sure of that.”

“Have you told Lorsan?”

“Not yet, I needed confirmation. But now I must.”

Trik stood and looked down at the elder. “Speak of this to no one.”

Myrin nodded and watched as the venerable assassin left his apartment.

***

“I request an audience with you,” Trik bowed low before his king.

Lorsan lounged in his personal suite. He knew that something must be seriously wrong, as Trik had sought him out in his private quarters. Lorsan motioned for Trik to sit, and since it was the king doing the motioning, Trik obeyed.

“Tell me,” Lorsan said without preamble.

Trik let out a slow breath before he met Lorsan’s eyes.

“I’ve met my Chosen.” The words were an ominous declaration in the silence of the room.

Trik waited as he watched Lorsan process the information.

“Triktapic, I swear, if this is your way of telling me you are resigning …” Lorsan growled.

“She is human.” Trik interrupted the beginning of what he knew was sure to be a grand tirade.

Lorsan snapped his mouth shut as his eyes narrowed. He stared at his assassin intently before he spoke again.

“You are sure?” he asked.

“She saw through my glamour. She saw my true form.” Trik went on to explain all that he had told Myrin and watched as Lorsan’s eyes widened in surprise and concern.