Ch.44

Evander stayed silent for another moment, struggling with what was going on. Still bleeding from the arrow lodged in his neck, he couldn't see very far ahead. There were only three elves near him‌—two who still stood by the tree, and one farther away.

The part of him that had always wanted to live had turned into the part that wanted to give up. In fact, he already thought of the elven arrow as a sort of miracle‌—or perhaps something more‌—that allowed him to live. But deep inside, Evander understood how unfair it was. Only someone as powerful as a god would be able to avoid death in such a way.

Only after the elf finished talking did Evander finally turn around. The creature was standing behind him, staring at the elf, almost as if waiting for her to finish. He hoped she wouldn't. After all, he needed to tell this to someone before he died.

"Everything has changed since the gods left," repeated the creature.

Evander nodded, trying to keep the blood from pouring from his throat. The creature watched him from a distance, giving him time to think of the last words he would ever speak in his life. Even though he didn't know these elves, the half-elf knew there was no one else he could tell them to‌—especially because he had never told anyone else what happened to him when he'd returned.

"They've given us everything we ever wanted," explained one of the elves.

Evander started to struggle, knowing the creatures weren't telling him anything new. All of this wasn't meant to make sense. It simply had to happen. And as long as he said the right thing‌—the right words‌—before he died, everything would be set right.

"Or have you forgotten?" asked the elf, noticing the half-elf's eyes wide with panic. "Didn't we tell you we know who you are?"

Now that they had his attention again, the elf turned around and made her way toward the trees. The creature was once again hidden from view‌—but Evander wasn't sure why she waited to reveal herself. Why would she do this?

"Before the gods left," continued the elf, "we were able to use our magic to create things both beautiful and terrible."

At this point, the half-elf started to argue with these creatures, not wanting them to know about his life since he had left his old tribe‌—however much or little he actually remembered. But the elf stopped him. She had spoken loud enough for the creature to hear, even from that far away. And whatever the elf was going to say next would be for Evander alone.

"There's a place deep below the earth," added the elf, "where all of our secrets remain hidden. A place where no one has ever looked‌—and which not even the gods discovered."

The half-elf thought there might be something strange about the elf. But he hadn't expected her to explain exactly what had happened during those years. To be honest, he couldn't recall whether the other elves had told him anything similar in the past. Because if they had, it certainly didn't sound like this.

"What will become of you now?" asked the elf, her eyes fixed on Evander's face. "Will you return home and forget everything we've told you?"

Evander immediately shook his head. After all‌—

"You should stay here with us," said one of the elves, taking a step toward the half-elf as she noticed his indecision.

In response, Evander held out his hand, telling them to stop.

"If you want to get out of here, I suggest you do as they say," said Duer. "It doesn't look like any of them will talk to anyone else. Especially someone like you. They made it clear that your blood is worth less than theirs, especially yours. And considering how much trouble it's caused us in the past, that's probably for the best."

At that moment, Evander realized he'd been staring at the bowstring again‌—the same one that had wounded him earlier‌—waiting for a reason to explain what was about to happen. He had wanted this elven weapon to perform some kind of miracle, saving him from certain death. But it had only been doing what the elves wanted.

"Of course‌... come with us," said the other elf.

Evander hesitated, not sure if he could trust these elves. This new situation was nothing like what had happened back when he was looking for his tribe.

"Stay here or stay with us," added the elven creature. "Either way, the outcome is the same."

The half-elf still hadn't decided which direction to go. He had just been given the choice to choose between death and life. That's what the elves were really asking him to decide on, and it would determine everything about his future. Yet the half-elf wasn't ready to make a decision. He needed more time to think it through.

"Even if you follow us, I won't be able to help you," warned Duer. "No one can. Not even me. I can't save you, because there's nothing anyone can do for you now. Not here at least."

Evander looked up from the bowstring, noticing how it started to glow. He watched the elves, wondering whether or not he should trust them. Of course, even before he made a move‌—to either stay or go‌—he knew there was no choice. Now that he had met these creatures, Evander had finally understood what it was all about. There was something much more important than his own death at stake.

"Where are we going?" asked the half-elf.

He turned around to face the elves as he waited for an answer‌—one he had expected would come sooner rather than later. But neither of them spoke up for what seemed like several seconds. In fact, none of the elves moved at all, although they were now getting closer to him.

"It doesn't matter," said the elf. "But make sure you're ready to go when we reach our destination. No matter what happens."

The elves watched Evander carefully, trying to figure out how much he understood. Then suddenly, one of the elves stretched out her hand and stopped him from continuing down the path. She leaned toward him so her mouth was right beside his ear.

"You have to stay behind," she whispered. "If you leave here now, you'll never make it back. Just because you're walking doesn't mean you're moving in the right direction."

Evander nodded. He didn't know why the elf told him to stay put. She probably just wanted him to look at her again, to notice those golden eyes once more‌—as if saying, You need to remember. It will all become clear in time. And he did understand. Even though this situation might be worse than death itself, it still made more sense than the alternative.

"Come on," said the elven creature, starting to walk down the trail.

Evander felt a sharp pain shoot through his hand, and he instinctively covered the wound with his other arm. As the elves walked away, it almost seemed as if they were talking about something else entirely. That's what made this all even more unbelievable. After all, the elven arrows only found their targets in the most unexpected places. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen‌—not after all these years.

Suddenly, Evander stood up straight and took two steps toward the elves before a wave of dizziness hit him. The half-elf wanted nothing more than to reach the creatures, to find out why they had really saved him. But as he tried to do that, he noticed something moving in the grass in front of him. Only this time, there was no arrow in sight. Instead, there was only something else.