Mark stood silently, like a statue, hands at his sides, chest out, shoulders at rest. It was a classic ‘superhero standing’ stance, intended to provoke reverence in a viewer, or maybe wonder. Awe, perhaps. Isoko and Sally both adopted a similar stance, with Isoko being more casual, hand to the sword at her hip and eyes on a swivel, while Sally was more solid about it, with her sword at her back. Mark was weaponless, but the elves about 100 meters away, inside of the village, knew he was not weaponless at all.

  Metal floated around Mark, along with Quark’s orb.

  There was a debate in the village right now, happening at the town square, between tens of elves. More and more of them stepped out of thin air like they had always been there, always been a part of the conversation, but it was obvious they had not all always been there. Mark didn’t know the language, and he didn’t need to know it right now. Everyone on the Dreadnought was trying to decode the language, the visuals, and the magic that they had used to hide. Quark transmitted images of that debate to Mark, and to Sally and Isoko’s viewing screens in their helmets, and Mark used that to coordinate the vectors he was feeling in the crowd.

  Mark focused on the body language and the vectors he saw and sensed.

  From the surprise in the vectors and on the faces of some elves, as new elves joined them, Mark could tell that maybe 20-ish of the people in the crowd lived there. Maybe more, maybe less. The village itself looked like it could have held 30 people. Another 20 people were visitors, ‘surprising’ or ‘catching off guard’ the people inside the village, as they, too, joined the debate.

  So far no one had stepped forward as an obvious leader; that’s all Mark could actually tell… Well. That, and maybe one other thing. He wasn’t sure about that, though, so Mark observed, and waited, and tried to make himself look like an upstanding person waiting for an audience. A few elves looked at him from behind trees, most of their bodies hidden with their hiding magics. More elves watched from behind the corners of buildings. Mark glanced at those guys, and they all ducked out of sight before they even met Mark’s gaze.

  None of them were willing to meet him eye-to-eye.

  Clouds rolled overhead.

  Derek was still extracting himself from the village, all of him bowing and leaving fast, and yet not too fast. When Derek moved fast that scared the elves, too. Genuine fear.

  Mark was pretty sure, by now, of a third thing that seemed to be true.

  “They don’t get visitors,” Isoko mumbled, keeping her voice soft so as not to disrupt the chatter with the guys on the Dreadnought.

  “Any luck with translations yet?” Sally asked.

  “It’s not elven as I know it,” Derek said, standing about 6 meters away. Another Derek on the ship said, “I’m catching some of it, but… No.”

  Tartu said, “So far, all I can tell is that they have no obvious leaders.”

  Mark said, “I agree with that, and I have some theories about what is happening here. 1, there are no obvious leaders in the crowds because, 2, they have no leaders. There are no houses here better than any of the other ones, either, which is the biggest physical clue. But I can tell by their vector that not a single person in there is looking toward anyone as an overall leader.

  “I think they have cliques, though.

  “Perhaps they are so long lived that they don’t actually have a leadership structure, and everyone is just polite. Xerkonan culture is ancient, and it has never changed, and I think Xerkonan culture stems from elves; but that’s just a theory.” Mark added, “And 3, I suspect that they are not a threat to us, yet they believe we are truly a threat to them.

  “So far, none of them are looking our way with a desire to harm, at all. Could be a trick; they can obviously hide some stuff. But… But they have to do violence, right? Like… There are all those red craters out there…” Mark lost the train of thought as some elves looked his way, and he met their gaze, and they did not flinch. “And now they’re looking at me, when I talk, which is new. A few of them are actually meeting my eyes.”

  A trio of men were hiding behind a small water fountain on the side of a building, to the left. Mark looked at them, and they looked back. Two of them rushed away, out of sight, but the third…

  The third stepped out into the open.

  He was a little shorter than Mark, lithe, wearing a shimmery white almost-blouse, and brown, soft pants. Simple blue shoes. The guy himself was pale, with white hair, and steel-grey eyes, and his jewelry was all silver, instead of gold like the jewelry of the villagers, and this guy’s silver jewelry had no gems in it at all. Just plain bands of metal on his wrists, and a soft chain around his neck. Pierced ears.

  Mark wondered if any of that mattered, or if it was just ‘who this guy was’. He was a guy who wore plain silver jewelry. Everyone else had gold stuff on, though— Ah, no. The guy’s friends, poking out from behind the fountain, also wore plain silver jewelry. One of the guy’s friends hissed something at the standing, showing-himself guy, and the showing-himself guy waved off his friend…

  And the showing-himself guy looked at Mark and he got an itchy sort of desire to his vector…

  Mark knew that feeling, but it wasn’t something he wanted to indulge in.

  This guy wanted a fight.

  Mark eyed the guy, but he did not turn to face him. Mark did not want to fight, because once the fighting started, he doubted it would stop.

  The guy gave a nervous chuckle and his desire to fight grew.

  Isoko asked, “Why is this guy wearing silver jewelry, when everyone else is wearing gold?”

  Eliot said, “That’s plain steel jewelry. There seems to be a dichotomy between the steel jewelry and the gold jewelry. From what I see, the golds are in the village and they are the normal residents. The steels are the ones coming in from the outside and trying to figure out what’s happening. That’s about as much as this crowd-analyzing software can do… I’m glad I packed this stuff, though.” Eliot added, “If they were on the ship I could analyze them a lot better with Castellan.”

  Mark turned his head toward the ‘steel elf’, saying to Eliot, “This guy wants a fight…” Mark had a thought. “I think the gold jewelry is for civilians and steel is for warriors. Quark, run a check.”

  “Checking, too!” Derek said, followed instantly by, “Probably correct!”

  Quark said, “I have identified 3 types of jewelry. Gold in the villages, in the city places. Steel in the outside places, the plains and the mountains. White here and there; it is rare for white. Gems probably mean something, but I do not know.”

  Mark said, “Eliot. Send us down some gold jewelry.”

  Isoko said, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to get involved in cultures we don’t know, like that.”

  “I agree with Isoko,” Lola said.

  “… Ah, okay,” Mark said, as he turned his entire body to face the steel-wearing elf, but he kept his metal away, and he put his arms behind his back. He shook his head, softly Calling, “I do not wish to fight you.”

  The steel elf squared up, hopping on one foot and then landing on the other. His bangles jangled on his wrists unnaturally.

  More and more faces popped into view behind the walls, behind the trees.

  The steel elf hopped across the little waterway at the side of the road, and then stepped onto the center of the road, between the team and the town. He looked at Mark, and then seemed to wait… for something.

  Mark shook his head, and projected peace, as he Called out, “Peace, please.”

  The guy raised his fists.

  Sally asked, “One versus one?”

  “... Fuck… Yeah,” Mark said. “Step back.”

  Sally and Isoko stepped back from Mark.

  The steel elf’s vector turned a bit happier, and his face even betrayed some joy, though he did not smile with his teeth or anything like that. There was a running commentary going on on the comms about all of that, too, with Lola having a lot of knowledge about Xerkonan etiquette which may or may not have been important right now.

  “So they don’t smile openly,” Tartu said.

  “It’s rude to display smiles among people you don’t know, however a lilt of the lip should be more than enough, and I am seeing that on the camera; he liked that the girls backed up, that Mark is meeting him alone,” Lola said. “And look at how he is standing, between the village and the team; that is indicative of protection. But it could also be a distraction. We don’t know what we don’t know. They could reproduce like goblins, in which case even the smallest of smiles are indicative of war, but I don’t think that is the case.”

  Mark was glad that biology between humans and elves were close enough to the same to allow for some basic understandings… but Mark wasn’t really human right now. He wondered if elementals and elves had any social interactions he should know about… Which yes. They probably did.

  Mark asked his team, “I don’t want to fight him, but I think I need to. Any possible etiquette I should follow, here? I’m basically an elemental right now so I don’t think he could meaningfully win a fight against me at all.”

  “We have no idea what any of this is, Mark,” Lola said, “There could be thousands of elves around us and we wouldn’t know… But if you want to tackle this as a friendly spar, then maybe your illusionary clothes might be an issue of deception, more than your elemental nature…” Lola went silent.

  Steel-elf was walking Mark’s way.

  Mark waited—

  The elf gave off a feeling like a goblin.

  Horny/violent.

  Shit.

  Mark shuddered a little, saying, “He feels like a goblin. Horny and violent…” Mark paused, eying Steel Elf. “But not hungry? So maybe not a goblin. Just be aware.”

  “Oh we’re aware alright,” Derek commented, standing 8 meters behind Mark, with the girls. Derek on the comms said, “I see no signs of elongated fangs in any of the faces of the arguing people.”

  Mark stood silent, prepared.

  Steel Elf walked his way. He stopped 5 meters away from Mark, and spoke in some words that Mark didn’t understand at all. What he looked like, was a guy sizing Mark up for a fight, and probably talking shit. No weapons on him, but from the way those bracelets hung on his wrists and slipped up his neck…

  Oh yeah.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Metalkinetic.

  Maybe he could actually do something to Mark—

  Some older elf came yelling out of the village, startling Steel Elf, who turned a bit and looked behind him, though he tried to keep Mark in view. Mark, for his part, stood down, stepping away once. Steel Elf made a small noise, and then turned fully toward the older elf running out of the village, no longer itching for a fight. Mark had just defused a situation, and the elf had accepted! Neat! Or at least that’s what it felt like. Maybe the village guy should get most of the credit for that, though.

  That new guy started haranguing the steel elf, pointing back to the village, and the steel elf rolled his eyes, loosened up his body with a full-body ‘ughhh’, and then said something to the village ‘elder’. Quick words went back and forth, and then the steel elf looked towards Mark and said something. Whatever it was felt ‘disappointed’.

  Mark tried a Call of, “We can have a friendly fight some other time.”

  Mark’s words went out, like a ripple across grass.

  The Steel Elf turned and stared for a moment, his previous enthusiasm returning—

  But then the older elf said something, and the Steel Elf sighed.

  The Steel Elf Called back to Mark in words that were more and less than what they sounded like, which was something complicated, but also a simple, ‘Maybe if you survive, something else can happen.’ It was not spoken with rancor or any of that. But it was not a clear statement of ‘let’s have a friendly spar’.

  It was a ‘I can wipe the floor with you some other time’.

  Mark wasn’t sure what to make of that, or what to make of any of the surrounding parts of that interaction. The language barrier was there, for sure, but also this guy could Aethercall just fine. Could the others, too? Probably. Mark asked the team, “Any idea if they might be trying to get someone who can do some translation magic? Maybe multi-word language-speaking magic? Like Sneaky Snake did in the lava tunnel?”

  “Working on it, sir,” Quark said.

  Derek also said something about looking out for it.

  Isoko glanced up, asking, “Could that lava tunnel place have been a precursor to those grid lines up there?”

  Mark kept his eyes on the elves, saying, “Possibly.”

  Steel Elf went and stood by the entrance to the village, leaning up against the wall like he was a ‘cool guy’ and everyone else was a chump. Some of the other elves near him, still hiding, said small words at the guy, and the guy just shrugged.

  Mark said, “Good news… maybe. I don’t think they're inherently violent people.”

  “They’re terribly polite, Mark,” Lola said, “But they also have strange magics, they’re probably immortal, and there are red craters everywhere— though those were easily healed… Maybe they were easily healed. I don’t know, and neither do you. We have no idea what is going to happen, or what they want to happen, so… be careful.”

  Mark grinned a little, looking up, as he said, “Yes, ma’am.”

  Derek commented, “I think they were in some sort of civil war? Or maybe—”

  Whatever Derek was going to say was suddenly cut off, because an elf slammed into the land in front of Mark, about 7 meters away, making a rather normal ‘landing on rocks’ sound. It was not a crash. It was a controlled, sudden landing. A small roil of dust flowed away from the guy.

  He was shorter than Steel Elf, but he also seemed much older. Pure white hair, done up in a bun, arms loosely behind his back, vector unreadable, eyes barely green and on the verge of glaring.

  And he was wearing black jewelry.

  Adamantine jewelry.

  Mark mentally went ‘ah, shit. No need for golden jewelry when I am already Making A Statement.’

  The elder Athercalled at Mark, asking something like ‘Who are you and why are you here?’

  Every single elf around the area flitted back behind their covers except for Steel Elf, who merely flinched.

  Mark tried to be soft with his Calling, saying, “I am here to Second Awaken, and our detectors pointed in here.” Mark lifted a hand slowly, the ‘elder’ watching him warily, as Mark pointed to the white spire to the north. “Prismatic Mana.”

  The elder paused, and then he got a disgusted look about him.

  And then the words poured out of the guy as he ranted without Calling, pointing up and behind Mark at the sky where the Dreadnought had sailed through, and then pointing at the Derek that was holding a fruit basket. Derek put the basket down right then and there and stepped back. This seemed to be the wrong thing to do, because the elder ranted about that, too, and then he looked back at Mark and pointed at all of Mark and then he pointed at the adamantine ring on his own finger and then he pulled at his adamantine earrings, and Mark got the distinct impression that the guy didn’t like Mark’s open display of… of hostility?

  Mark wasn’t sure how to deal with that, except to detach his left arm, and then put it back on to his body.

  The elder suddenly stopped and stared.

  Mark pulled his head off, next, and then he opened up his chest, disturbing the illusion around his chest, showing that Mark had nothing inside of his chest at all. The elder stared more, eyes wide. Now Steel Elf was both worried and interested, which was a sentiment shared by most.

  Mark put himself back together, and then Called out, “I am not wearing the jewelry of war. I am here to be healed by the prismatic mana, to be made whole again, and also better.”

  The elder collected himself, staring at Mark for a long moment.

  Mark waited—

  Wait a second.

  Mark was being dumb. So dumb he laughed at himself, and the elder wondered what was happening. Mark said, “Sorry, sorry,” shaking his head, and then he said to Quark, floating in his metal ball behind Mark, “Do you still have that sequence of Sigaldry we saw from Sneaky Snake? The 17 hands and the language translations?”

  The elder looked at Mark with narrowed eyes. He looked at the orb behind Mark, too.

  Quark spoke so that everyone could hear, “I do, sir. We still don’t know what those languages are, or how the spell even works, except to speak with mouths that are not there.”

  The elder eyed the orb more, but he mostly looked at Mark.

  Mark said, “Fair enough… but you know? He probably knows Sigaldry itself.” Mark signed—

  The Elder was suddenly a meter further away.

  … Mark slowly signed to the Elder, ‘From the heart, we come in peace. I am here to be healed via prismatic mana for a problem I caused myself. How are you?’

  The elder’s white eyebrows went up toward his white hair, and then he signed back, ‘From-the-something, you have caused a large interruption. But I see/understand your malady and I see/understand your desires. You will not succeed at this moment/time/place. But one person for a something is not a large request. You will wait here and I will get a something to better speak with you, now that I know you are less likely to be something/bad-thing. Do not move from this location, and bring all of your people back to your location. And stop athercalling like a something/bad-thing/barbarian(?), but I suppose that is too much to ask of a child/ignorant-person.’

  Mark gave his best impression of a contrite person, and bowed a little, signing, ‘From-the-gut, I will do this.’

  The elder looked disgusted for a moment, and then he signed, ‘No shitting in the open.’

  Mark was stunned.

  The elder took off, vanishing overhead.

  A moment passed, and Isoko couldn’t contain herself anymore.

  Isoko started chuckling, saying, “No public shitting, Mark!”

  The elves had no idea what to make of this. They were partially offended, partially worried, and partially terrified, but Mark had learned how to read a crowd well over the last year, and some of the elves were amused right alongside Isoko. They didn’t allow themselves that amusement, because they were terrified, but it was almost there. For his own part, Mark was briefly embarrassed at being told not to shit in public, like that was a real thing that he would ever do… but then he turned some of his floating adamantium into a caricature of poo, and put it on the ground to the side.

  A dam broke.

  Isoko started guffawing.

  Steel Elf and several of the crowd burst out laughing, but then they rapidly collected themselves, stopping that emotion as fast as they could.

  Mark took a bow.

  A few elves chuckled again.

  Tartu commented, “I guess some comedy is universal.”

  Mark was about to say something—

  The elder elf landed suddenly, and a lot softer this time, gently holding hands with a white-wearing elf who had a big white tome in her other hand. The elder was about to say something, to sign with his hands, but then he saw the big black turd.

  … Mark turned the turd into floating metal again. Sharp metal. Not shit-shaped at all.

  The elves laughed for real, this time.

  The elder was not laughing. He went on a tirade about propriety, but at the same time, he was also signing every word he said, as he said them.

  Mark, meanwhile, had an out of body experience, like he was some normal person in some normal situation, and some normal elder was telling him not to make a fool of himself. It was disarming. It was also kinda pleasant, considering the alternative involved a bunch of murdering. And the other elves seemed to view Mark as a lot more ‘oh this guy is just a dude’ instead of ‘these are invaders here to kill us all!’.

  All in all, it was a win.

  Also, Quark was saying to Mark, and everyone on the channel, “This is very useful for understanding the language.”

  Already, Quark had learned the words for ‘road’ and ‘people walk here!’ and ‘privacy’ and possibly even ‘intolerable’, or maybe more like ‘offensive’. The elder was not short on lessons to impart, that’s for sure, and he signed everything he was saying. Sure, Sigaldry and ‘New Elven’ —or whatever they were calling it— were not a 1-for-1 language, but intent and context cues helped a lot, and the elder was clearly actively instructing, but also furious in a lot of ways.

  Lola commented, “I believe he never gets the opportunity to rake anyone over the coals, so he’s taking it where he can get it.”

  Mark would have agreed with her, but he would have had to speak to do that, and that would interrupt the elder’s tirade. And besides that, now the guy was going off on the idea of ignorance itself, pointing at things and naming them, and then declaring that Mark didn’t know shit about shit.

  Quark said, “Along with what I have already gathered from surveillance, I will begin assisting Derek and those on the Dreadnought with the translation efforts.”

  Tartu said, “We might be able to whip up something with an Aluathan-to-Elven translating machine.”

  “Those things are total shit but we’ll see what we can do,” Eliot said.

  “It’s not ‘elven’,” Derek said, “If it was elven I could help more than I am.”

  The elder continued his rant.

  The female elf in white with the tome —Book Elf, until further notice— stepped back toward the village, where she found Steel Elf standing there, and she talked to him. Together, Steel Elf and Book Elf waited for Elder Elf to get done with his rant. From how they settled in and began chatting about stuff, Mark imagined the elder would be maybe another half hour.