Part IV: The outlanders. Chapter 1: The First

“I saw Tulvarick,” said the grey-haired, arqilunian-looking elf.

“Well, how is he?” another forest elf asked.

“He looks like his grandfather, and fights almost the same.”

“Have you replaced books in libraries?”

“Of course,” the elf replied, and took a fruit resembling an apple, only more elongated and more like a small earthly squash, and took a bite.

They were in a well-lit room. An elf was conducting some kind of experiments on a sleepy snunorf woman. The grey-haired arqilunian looked a little older than the one who was moving his hands over the snunorf.

“Ndaeldarim, you’ve been fiddling with her for a long time,” the grey-haired arqilunian said.

“She resists,” Ndaeldarim replied. “You know the northerners, Elnurian, they have great willpower!” with these words, Ndaeldarim continued to move his hands over the northerner, uttering some words in a half-whisper.

“Do you think it will work this time? Dombard was the first to come out now.”

“Yes, and this is the first time that Dombard Krachtvensen has stepped outside the Wall of Ghosts. He is aggressive, angry and loves to play... This time, maybe finally it will work! Wait,” Ndaeldarim broke off and turned to the captive, “Kas Mud Dah Tar Sam Vos Kat Sir Man Fock.”

Elnurian took another fruit and began to eat it, pacing the room and occasionally looking out the window.

“It’s still so… untouched here,” Elnurian said, standing by the window. Silenta’s light was at its zenith. “Do you remember the last time Elberon Bergvenwoodsen woke up first?”

“Oh,” Ndaeldarim suddenly perked up, continuing to move his hands over the northern woman, his hands radiating blue energy, “it was something! I remember how he wanted to possess Gaal’s body. It was too naive of him to think that he would succeed. And Gaal was not good, because he refused to fly to Iglara.”

“Yes, Gaal was not good,” Elnurian agreed, “but now the new Gaal has been reborn, and I hope that he will destroy the vile ancient ghosts!”

“And their makers!” Ndaeldarim added, “Tah Avs Mak Rast Dus Kan Arp Daw Sor,” he continued his procedure.

“Yes, and their makers! And soon we’ll be able to mine alanjruon, brother!”

“The Emperor will be pleased,” Ndaeldarim said, and then stepped away from the snunorf woman.

Snunorf began to be reborn, her hair, face, the body changed. Her hair became light green at the roots, and at the tips it became white, and her eyes became light brown.

“Arise, falsalvgudina!”

The woman obeyed.

“How are you not tired of sculpting puppets, brother?” Elnurian asked, looking at the woman.

“If we knew that our work on Ermir would take thousands of years–”

“By the way,” Elnurian interrupted him, “we have oldenmessers scattered across the continent, should we gather them and send them to negotiate with the dragons?”

“Do you want us to sacrifice all our ‘children’?”

“They all have to die in the end anyway. Our ‘children’… Maybe we will stop calling them like that?”

“It doesn’t matter how we call them as long as they destroy the ghosts and the ikhagatbers!” Ndaeldarim remarked, and turned to the woman, “Sit down!”

The woman obeyed her eyes were fixed on one point, as if she had no consciousness.

“Ikhagatbers! How is it, brother, that we, the First, could not slay these disgusting old snunorfs?” Elnurian wondered.

“But they couldn’t completely ruin our plan! We came here about three thousand years ago, right? Yes.” Ndaeldarim noticed Elnurian’s nod. “And during this time we were able to saturate the minds of the natives with lies, and only after several centuries, we created mothers who gave birth to dragons, and created false mothers who began to interfere with them, isn’t this worthy of praise?” Ndaeldarim asked.

“No, my brother, it’s not! Since we had to cope in a hundred years at the most, and for about three thousand years we would have been mining alanjruon!

“Do you remember what happened the last time, before Elberon?” Ndaeldarim asked.

“Yes, I remember Belward Svartfagelsen was the first to wake up.”

“Not a criminal, but a warrior with naive patriotism. And every time the nasty ikhagatbers create their own bird. And as you remember, Belward teamed up with this snow-snunorf-argiphone, and they convinced Gaal and dragons not to burn everything around. Although Gaal flew to Iglara, he didn’t collide with her, chickened out and turned around, and then got lost in space! Disgusting creature!”

“That’s how you love our children!” Elnurian grinned. “Now the Ikhagatbers have created a bird again... By the way, why we can’t control their minds directly? You’ve tried some experiments, haven’t you?”

“Elnurian, spells are difficult, require a lot of strength and energy. I’ve been exhausted for the last four centuries. I can’t create more than eleven mothers and eleven falsalvgudinas. I’ve tried everything!”

“Yes, the last four hundred… no, almost seven centuries have been the most difficult. Although the ghosts continue to come out one at a time, what if this time all of them come out at once?”

“There were only eleven of them! We’ve already killed four. Maybe we’ll handle with seven.”

“Remind me of the name of the fourth? All I can remember is Elberon, Belward, and Khagberd”

“Fodiskug Nattenrikhsen,” Ndaeldarim answered.

“Yes!”

There are left only Tiernard, Radmenard, Angonard, Radslanskog, Istandrod, Brenard–”

“And Dombard!”

“Yes, and Dombard.”