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Chapter 42: My happy place isnt so happy

  Chapter 42

  Dalex was just about to lay down to go to bed before the hunt began on the morrow when a notification appeared in his peripheral vision.

  The notification opened into a message. Dalex sat down on the bed to read it.

  It didn’t seem like Hitasa was in any danger. The message would have included a triggering event and explanation if there had been any hazards. But it was incredibly odd that she would ask to speak with him. Short of Castreier assaulting Batulan-bar with an army, Dalex hadn’t expected to hear from her at all.

  Dalex considered the lateness of the hour and the time it would take to {fly} from Dugan to Batulan-bar and then back, and then summoned Seventh. As usual, she had not planned on sleeping and was patrolling the skies. She descended to Dalex’s window and he opened it to meet her.

  “I need to {teleport} to Hitasa’s location.”

  Normally, he would have just cast the spell and let the system take care of getting him where he needed to be, but he still didn’t fully trust {teleportation}. He didn’t want to zap himself out of existence or accidentally materialize inside a wall, or worse, inside Hitasa.

  “Understood. Are you ready now?” Seventh asked.

  “{Glimmer} me to her, Seventhy.”

  A single spotlight shown down through the ceiling of the inn and encircled Dalex’s body. He experienced a brief tingling sensation, and suddenly he was standing on a quiet street in the heart of Batulan-bar, feeling the cold air against his skin.

  Hitasa was just a few yards ahead of him, walking away down the street, unaware of his arrival.

  “Hitasa,” Dalex said.

  She yelped and jumped, twisting in the air to face him. When her eyes landed on his face, she let out a long whispering sigh and clutched her heart. “Where did you come from? I thought you were in Dugan.”

  “I was. The {charm of protection} told me you wanted to talk to me.”

  Her mouth hung open for a moment. “I thought it would take hours for you to respond. How did you get here so fast?”

  “A spell I call {teleportation}. It’s a bit of a scary one, so I don’t like to use it often.” He scanned the street and checked the buildings around them. They were alone, and it didn’t appear anyone had been bothering her. “Is something wrong? What did you need?”

  “I—” she began, and then stopped. He just barely saw her face turn slightly red in the dim glow of the nearby streetlamps. “It’s nothing, I shouldn’t have called you.”

  “I don’t think it’s nothing,” Dalex said. “I don’t think you would have even thought of me if nothing was wrong.”

  She frowned and then shook her head. “I just panicked. Now that you’re here, it feels silly. If I had waited it out, I would have been fine.”

  “You don’t have to tell me.” Dalex spread his arms. “But, well, I’m already here. I don’t mind that you called me. If you need to get something off your chest, go for it.”

  She put her hands together and turned to face away from him, showing Dalex her side. “It’s, well— Umm— Metsa. She asked me to do something unexpected. Something I don’t think is smart.”

  She paused and Dalex prompted her to continue with an, “Oh?”

  Hitasa was quiet for a moment, and then she finally opened up, telling him about the meeting with Metsa and the four elves Metsa hoped to bring to the revolution’s side. Hitasa finished with the bit about her name, Hitasa of the Perhethion. Dalex heard her full name for the first time. Apparently, all elves were “Name of the something-or-other.” It sounded like the format Dalex had chosen for his own name, Dalex of the Expedition 7. Beastkin and humans just had normal first and family names. Dalex wondered if he had unwittingly given people a certain impression of himself with this small decision.

  “Metsa and the others probably wouldn’t like me telling you all this,” Hitasa said. “Some of them think you’re a spy.”

  “They’re careful,” Dalex said. “I understand why they would think that way. But I don’t understand your concern with your name. What does it mean?”

  “Perhethion was the last Elder King of the elves. He was the leader of our race when the dragons and humans made their deal and formed a coalition to defeat us.”

  “So, you’re the direct descendent of elven royalty.” Dalex scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I see what Metsa is trying to do. She wants to appeal to history and tradition. If the rightful queen is on her side, a lot of elves would be interested in that.”

  “Queen?” Hitasa scoffed. She melted down into a brief but intense interval of giggling. “Queen. That is absurd.”

  “You clearly don’t like the idea. Do you think it won’t work? Or is it something else? Too much responsibility?”

  “Elder King Perhethion was evil,” Hitasa said matter-of-factly. “There is a reason the humans willingly threw themselves upon the dragons’ mercy. They tossed aside their old gods and accepted new draconic ones so that they could kill Perhethion together. Regardless of what the humans did after that, everything I have heard about the era tells me they were right to hate the Elder King. Sitoa and I did not write our manifesto so we could become king and queen of a new elven era in the old shameful line of succession. That way lies disaster, perhaps the end of all life.”

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  “That bad?” Dalex asked. So bad that she would even throw the much-hated humans a bone and admit they did a good thing?

  “Elder King Perhethion committed many sins that would make you sick, and planned many more that would drive you mad with fear. He was as cruel to his fellow elves as he was to humans.”

  She paced back and forth, running a hand through her short hair.

  “I cannot go down this path with Metsa,” Hitasa said. “But she has already told my name to those four elders. They are probably pondering this very moment what advantage they can get from it.”

  Dalex nodded along quietly, not really sure what to say.

  “It will all spiral out of control,” she continued. “Many don’t understand who Perhethion was. They’ll want traditional structures, traditional power. People will be hurt. We’ll trade one tyrannical overlord for another.”

  Dalex raised his eyebrows. She was thinking far ahead. “I admire your optimism.”

  She wheeled on him. “What is optimistic about that?”

  “Just that you can see a future where you have to worry about your own people’s power and not the dragons’. I think it’s good that you’re thinking about these things.”

  “But what do I do?” she demanded. “I can’t just think about this. I have to do something, now.”

  Dalex shrugged. “You know more about this than I do.”

  “What? I thought you were going to help me.”

  He considered his options and how far he wanted to go meddling in the affairs of elves and said, “{Campchairious Stupendous}.”

  It was a spell he thought up on the spot, but the {astral mortar} in his armor understood well enough his intention. It flowed out of the armor to form into two simple gray armchairs that floated in the air a moment before clattering to the ground. Dalex picked them up and set them across from each other in the middle of the street. He sat down in one and gestured for Hitasa to take the other.

  She stared at the proffered seat for several seconds and then finally sat down, folding her arms over her stomach and crossing her legs. “So, you do have something worthwhile to say?”

  “Not much, but I think sitting will help you think. What role did you think you would be playing for the resistance before Metsa sprung this on you?”

  “I thought I would be writing for them. I wanted to inspire more people and create words of power.”

  “And was that all?” Dalex prompted her.

  “I wanted to fight, too, not be some figurehead to trick other elves into joining the cause.”

  “That does sound boring.”

  She gave him a sharp look. “Are you taking this seriously? I’m trying to solve a problem, here.”

  Dalex drummed his fingers on the arm rest of his chair and then said, “I can’t tell you what to do here. And I don’t think I should get involved in the internal affairs of elves.”

  She scoffed. “Isn’t that exactly what you’ve done since the day you got here?”

  Dalex shook his head. “If you want me to beat up Castreier or put down a human army? I’m your guy. I’ll be there all the way. But deciding the best way to govern the resistance and where your people’s history fits in that? I won’t touch it. It’s not my place and I’ll screw it all up.”

  “And I’m telling you, you’ve already screwed things up.”

  “I have disrupted human control over elves, which I thought was unnatural. I won’t have anything to do with internal elven matters. After all, as much as I hate to admit it, I am human. If you let yourself think about it for a minute, I’m sure you don’t want me interfering in your business either.”

  Hitasa frowned. She unfolded her arms and put them on her chair’s rests. “But that doesn’t help me.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “But you’re right, this is different than handing me a shovel.”

  “It is.”

  They both went quiet. Hitasa stared at the cobblestones at her feet. Dalex let her stew on her troubles. After a minute, he asked, “When I first met you, you grayed out every time I asked the wrong question. At the risk of inviting another gray out, what were you thinking in those moments?”

  For a moment, she looked almost fearful, but to Dalex’s surprise, she did not retreat into the catatonia. If any question would bring it back, Dalex thought it would be this one. But she schooled her features and gave him a straight answer.

  “I was reciting the manifesto. Word for word. Over and over again.”

  She went on, and Dalex let her talk as long as she wanted to.

  “It came every time I wanted to do something but I didn’t think it was possible. When I was on the scaffolding with my brother, I wanted to break out of the pillory and save us, but I knew I couldn’t. The only thing I knew I could do was remember the manifesto. I couldn’t defend myself from the person who wanted to kill me. I couldn’t write anything new. But I could remember what Castreier had burned before it could be seen.”

  She took a deep breath. “On the hill overlooking Telman, when you asked me who I was, I didn’t hear ‘what is your name.’ It was like you were asking me what I would do next. And my brother was dead. I was alone with a human. What could I possibly do next besides recite the manifesto?”

  Now, she gave him a pointed look. “When you told me you had access to paper, I realized I could make the manifesto real again. I could write more. But that scared me too. The last time it was real, I lost everything. Would it be any different this time? What would I lose next? And how could I trust you with that? You’re a human. You’re my enemy. I still don’t know why you do what you do, but while I think I trust you now, I certainly didn’t think that then. So, I fell back on what was easy and recited the manifesto.”

  She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, clasping her hands together. “The same thing happened when you asked why I was following you. I knew exactly why the question occurred to you. I could have left at any time. Were you any other human, I would have run away at the first chance of a safe escape. I was just starting to understand what you could be to me, how you could help me. But I wasn’t ready yet, so I recited the manifesto.”

  “And then,” she said, interrupting herself with a long pause, “you went over that cliff in the mouth of three different mutts, and I thought you were dead; that I would never see you again. I had squandered my one chance to make up for my mistake, for trusting Petaa not to rat Sitoa and me out to the Wolf Brigade.”

  Dalex remembered the look in her eyes as the mutts carried him off the edge of the cliff. Her bright eyes had turned gray in a fraction of a second.

  “But when I came back up from that pit, you were normal,” Dalex said. “How did you snap out of it?”

  “Metsa let slip something important,” Hitasa said. “In a moment of panic, she referenced the resistance, and I realized I wasn’t alone. There were still other people fighting my same fight. Sitoa was gone, but there were others. And that was the reminder I needed to remember there was no way a measly three mutts could kill you.”

  Dalex couldn’t hold back a wide grin. “So that’s why you were so quick to demand the paper when I came back.”

  He saw Hitasa blush in the dim light. “Thank you for being accommodating.”

  Dalex stood up from his chair. As soon as he was on his feet, the chair dissolved into the {astral mortar} and rushed into his armor. Hitasa’s chair remained intact as she stayed seated. He walked forward to stand in front of her and leaned down to rest his hands on the ends of her chair’s arm rests. She leaned back as he did so, retracting her arms so that they did not touch him. A look of shock and fear ran across her face.

  “You don’t need my help, Hitasa,” Dalex said. “Not for this. What do you want to do for the resistance?”

  “I—” she stammered, not looking him in the eye. “I want to write. I want to fight.”

  Dalex straightened, letting go of her chair and giving her space again. Hitasa let out a relieved breath.

  “Then write,” Dalex said. “And fight. This isn’t Metsa’s resistance. It belongs to everyone, all elves, all beastkin who refuse to be overseers and executioners, and you. Do what you think you should do, and I’m sure you’ll find the right path.”

  “I—” she began, her voice still unsteady. “I will.”

  “Is there anything else going on I should know about?” Dalex asked. “Anyone bothering you that might need a beating?”

  He accessed his armor’s system and detached the cloud of {astral mortar} currently forming Hitasa’s chair from his control, handing it off to the {charm of protection}. For the time being, that particular section of the {mortar} belonged to Hitasa.

  She shook her head. “No, I just… It was just Metsa.”

  “Good. Don’t think you ever can’t call me, even if it’s for something you think is small. I have no trouble getting around. And I’ll probably be back in a day or two.” He pointed at her chair. “And hold onto that. I linked it to your {charm of protection} so it will do what you say. You can make all kinds of convenient things with it.”

  Hitasa looked down at her seat. “The chair?”

  “You’ll figure it out. I need to go get some sleep before the hunt tomorrow.” He turned away to initiate the {teleport} back to Dugan, but paused before he cast the spell, looking over his shoulder at Hitasa one last time. “I really do admire you, Hitasa. I think your strength is incredible.”

  He waited just long enough to see her blush again, and then said, “{Teleport},” and he was back in his room in the Dugan inn.

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