Y'Nfalle: From Beyond Ancient Gates

Layla sat quietly in the back of the vehicle, but her mind was racing with thoughts. Her hands trembled as she fought back the urge to pull out her notebook and begin writing down everything she had seen.

The armour that Anita and her soldiers wore could make them invisible. That she could believe; after all, the Shimmer Wolves had the same ability, thanks to their fur. But something as big as the Chameleon? It went beyond anything she could've expected.

The shock and surprise of seeing the entire truck appear out of thin air were still fresh, even though almost half an hour had passed. It terrified her, the thought that one of these people could be anywhere they wanted to be and no one would even know.

"People." Layla looked up at the soldier, now unmasked, sitting across from her.
"Yes. They are people. Same as I, Elisia, or Her Majesty."

The mage remembered her time as a student of magic in the Holy City of Larmuth. Thanks to being friends with a noble's daughter who also attended the school, Layla had the rare opportunity of riding inside a chariot powered solely by mana crystals. Being inside the Chameleon was nothing like that. The vehicle was perfectly silent, and its movement felt incredibly smooth.

"We're here." The driver spoke, snapping Layla back to reality.

"Already?" She thought, lamenting the fact that the vehicle had no windows besides the ones in the driver's cabin. The mage would've loved to see just how fast they were going.

The back door opened, and the soldiers all hopped out one by one, with Layla being the last to exit the Chameleon. A large shadow was cast on the snowy ground, a shadow that belonged to that which brought unrivalled fear to the Vatur elves.

The mage's eyes went wide when she turned to look at the gargantuan monster made of metal. The Iron Fortress stood before her, its cold barrel still aimed in the direction of the Vatur kingdom's Home Tree, which wasn't even visible in the distance. She heard about it time and time again, but seeing it in person was a whole different story. If there ever were any doubts in her mind about the weapons capabilities, those thoughts were irrevocably gone.

Layla's attention was so glued to the Iron Fortress that she didn't even notice when the soldiers dragged the elven general from the vehicle when she struggled and mumbled barely comprehensible curses at them in her native language. Despite being stripped of all her armour, Eirlys was still heavily restrained. Cuffs that looked like metal gloves kept her arms behind her back, ensuring she couldn't even snap her fingers. As the otherworlders were by now familiar with the spell known as "Step", they made sure to cuff the general's legs too, with heavy-looking cuffs around her ankles.

Lastly, and Layla wasn't sure if this was to prevent Eirlys from chanting anything or just to humiliate her further, the Warhound known as Anita personally muzzled the elf with a piece of oily, foul-smelling cloth she found in the back of the vehicle.

Eirlys had her feet dug into the ground, resisting the soldiers who tried dragging her with them. It wasn't until Howler approached the elf gleefully and drove her right fist into the general's stomach that the elf stopped struggling against the men who held her.

The mage and the cat both looked at the Warhound with disgust. Layla wanted to speak up, to tell the cruel woman that such actions were unnecessary, but she was never the type to do so. In truth, a lot of Layla's confidence came from her friends and companions, especially Elisia, as Mitsy wasn't the talkative type at all.

While Layla did trust the three men that she got to know quite well, she was still very anxious about being surrounded by so many otherworlders, especially considering how aggressive Anita and her unit seemed to be. It was more than just plain aggression. Layla could understand if Anita had an axe to grind with the elf, but she didn't. The female Warhound just seemed to view Eirlys as a little more than a plaything, like the elf wasn't truly alive or, at the very least, like her life had no worth on its own.

As the group walked through the entrance to the outpost, a thought crossed the mage's mind.
"Were the three former prisoners always as friendly as she came to know them to be? Or were they just like Anita at some point in time? If so, would they return to how they were, now that they were reunited with their people?"

Layla didn't have much time to dwell on that thought because the very moment they stepped into the outpost, one of the soldiers guarding the entrance shouted and raised his weapon, his aim trained on something in the faraway fields. The group all turned around at once, except the men who still held the exhausted and battered General Eirlys.

"Someone is approaching, Sir." The soldier said to Clyde while looking through the scope of his rifle.
"It's a woman, dressed like a knight. Blonde. On horseback and moving very fast. I have a clear shot; say the word and I'll drop her."

Layla suddenly felt panic begin to flood her as she realized it was Elisia whom the soldier was describing. Fearing that Anita would give the order to fire without hesitation, Layla shouted.
"Don't shoot! She's a friend. It's Elisia!"

No gunshot rang out. The mage nervously glanced in Howler's direction, fully expecting to be met with a furious glare. To her surprise, Anita remained stoic, eyes locked on Elisia in the distance.

"Stand down," Clyde said to the soldier, before mumbling something to the others.
"What happened to the other guys? Why is she alone?"

Elisia was pushing the animal far beyond its limits. The horse was foaming at the mouth, its muscles overloaded by the haste spell, its lungs burning and heart pounding on the verge of imploding. The Haste spell made it move incredibly fast, enhancing its speed, endurance and allowing the animal to ignore the pain of its body falling apart for as long as the spell was active.

Once she was close enough, Elisia jumped off the animal and tumbled through the snow, no longer having the mana necessary to maintain the spell. With Haste broken, the animal neighed and collapsed as well, grunting and panting as all the accumulated damage to its system hit it all at once.

Clyde raised his right hand next to his head, snapping his fingers and pointing two of them towards the horse. Without hesitation, one of the soldiers fired a single shot, putting the animal out of its misery.

Layla and Jeremy didn't even notice; they were too busy rushing to lift Elisia off the ground. The knight was exhausted, her legs barely supported her weight as the pair lifted her to her feet, Jeremy putting Elisia's arm over his shoulder to support her weight.

"What's wrong with her?" He asked Layla, whose facial expression was one of confusion rather than worry.

"She used up a lot of mana. Nothing too serious, she just needs rest." The mage replied.

"She reeks of sweat and... burning flesh." Mitsura, still sitting on Layla's left shoulder, spoke.

Layla noticed the cat's discomfort, the way her fur rose as she sniffed Elisia, but Clyde interrupted the mage before she could say more.

The large man moved his hands around while talking to the other soldiers.
"Alright. Enough standing out in the open. Toss the elf somewhere she can't escape from and keep her monitored. Howler, I want a mission report before we start interrogating her."

Each soldier moved without hesitation. Howler walked off from the group, while the others dragged Eirlys away. With only the ones Layla knew left, Clyde finally turned his attention to Jeremy.
"Jeremy, get our friends settled in. Give 'em something to eat, too. Let me know when Elisia gets her strength back. I want to be there when she tells us what happened."

The group entered the outpost together, but Clyde and Marcel soon split from the others and went in a different direction, leaving the three women with the only soldier that they knew. The other otherworlders paid them no mind as they went about their duties. Layla could properly soak in the interior of the outpost due to her attention being primarily focused on Elisia; still, she could not help but notice how cubical everything looked.

Every structure inside the outpost, safe for the Iron Fortress itself, looked like a metallic box with smooth edges. Some were longer than others, but the look and design remained the same. The barracks that Jeremy took them to seemed both sturdy and flimsy at the same time.

Both the knight and the mage were given a bed and a blanket. Mitsura refused both, as she spent the majority of her time in cat form anyway.
Jeremy helped Layla take Elisia's armour off, much to the initial quiet dissatisfaction of the mage. Elisia, while often said to be "married to the crown", was the village beauty in the small place she came from. She avoided suitors like the plague, but that did not mean there wasn't an overabundance of men still willing to put their confidence on the line to try and win her hand.

While the knight was far from naked beneath the armour, she did wear it more than regular clothing, to the point that Queen Kyara often joked that Elisia would even wear it to her own wedding. Even though it was just armour, Elisia firmly stood by the decision that if any man wanted to undress her in any way, he would first have to place a wedding bracelet on her wrist. Layla did not like that the first man to 'strip' her friend would be one from an entirely different world, but the mage knew the sooner she got Elisia out of the armour, the better.

The more the armour was removed, the more Layla's dissatisfaction at the situation turned to surprise. Elisia wore fabrics that clung tightly to her curvy form, even more so now that they were soaked in sweat. Yet Jeremy showed no interest at all in nature's artistic craftsmanship, his eyes only moving from one part of the armour to the next, and his hands quickly followed.

Once no armour besides the boots remained, he stood up and told the mage to remove the sweat-soaked blouse Elisia wore.
"Get that shirt off of her before she catches a cold or worse. I'll see to find her some replacement clothes in the meantime."

With those words, he turned on his heels and walked outside the barracks, stationing two soldiers to guard the entrance to the box.

***

Colonel Clyde Sullivan sat in his quarters, reading Howler's mission report and smoking. Anita's mission was a success, had no casualties and even netted them a prisoner they could question. Had Clyde been reading the report a year ago, he wouldn't have thought twice about what was written on it. But now, after everything he had learned about the elves, mages, and, to some extent, how magic worked, the Warhound couldn't help but feel something was wrong about the whole clash between Anita's unit and Eirlys's elves. And that pestering feeling had nothing to do with his people, but with the elves.

Eirlys, despite not having ever encountered a foe like Anita and her unit before, still responded to the attack and handled the situation extremely well. For a time, at least. According to the report, which Clyde was now reading through a second time, the structure of the elven defence started to crumble the very second that the protective dome of branches and trees began to come undone.

If there was one fact that was drilled into Clyde's head over and over since he came to the other world, it was that elves are the best there is, especially when it came to mana and magic. They had more mana, were loved by it, and their long lives allowed them to study it far better than any other race. So, at the very least, one could expect them to know their own limits and understand which spell would best fit a certain situation.

Acquiring the rank of general wasn't an easy feat; It demanded time, skill and knowledge. For a race whose lifespan dwarfed that of humans, that rank would probably take over a century for a person to reach. Someone with that level of experience would most certainly know what they can and can't do, even if the enemy were entirely alien to them.

"If you know yourself, but not the enemy…" Clyde mumbled, taking a long drag from the cigarillo.

He put the report down, exhaling smoke while looking up at the ceiling.
"Summoning or awakening the forest was a smart move. Countering the enemy that is unknown with something unknown to them. They must've planned to wall themselves off and wait for reinforcement."

Clyde had seen a lot of Hail Marys in his time. Never once was one used as an opening to a performance. Summoning the woods to protect them and occupy the enemy until backup arrived wasn't a last-ditch effort. It was something that the elven general was certain would work. Something she believed wouldn't, couldn't fail, judging by how chaotic the fight became once the forest began to abandon them. Enchanted fire arrows, that was a Hail Mary attempt; a desperate struggle to push the enemy back.

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If Eirlys and her soldiers put such trust in the forest, why did it fail? Why did it abandon them?

The Colonel sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, lowering his head and taking another drag from the cigar. He felt like there was more to it than just a spell backfiring, but he didn't have enough information to draw any theories from. At least not theories that he could use as a basis for any plans moving forward.

He hoped whatever they could squeeze from the captured elf would provide enough information to draw a solid conclusion.

Clyde shifted his gaze from the table in front of him to the door of his cube that was open without warning. Marcel walked in with a smile on his face, as if summoned by the coffee aroma of the tobacco that Sullivan smoked.

"Christ, fifty-five years and you never learned to knock. What if I was sliming it in here?" The massive man asked with a grin.

"Then the door would be locked, I hope." Replied Marcel, grabbing and unfolding a chair from the corner.

Clyde pulled another cigar from the box and tossed it to the much shorter man, his grin widening.
"Nah, brother. Wiiiideee open."

Marcel lit the cigar, taking a few puffs, followed by a long drag, before he slumped in the chair. He savoured the flavour and aroma for a few seconds before exhaling.
"The knight woke up."

"Eh, she can wait a little longer. The sun has already set, it's not like she's gonna go anywhere now."

The short Warhound took the cigarillo and looked at it from an angle for a second, as if inspecting it..
"I missed these."

"I know, right? If those elven fucks got their hands on us, I doubt they'd let us get one last puff before offing us. Besides, whatever they smoke probably tastes like dandelions and pixie dust or someshit." Clyde replied with a chuckle, closing his eyes as if that would enhance the sensation of smoking.

The two smoked in silence for about a minute before Marcel spoke again.
"I feel kind of bad for the guards. Real shame."

Clyde stared at the ceiling, blowing rings of smoke in between words.
"Yeah. They were solid dudes."

"What do you think happened?" The major asked.

The behemoth of a man shrugged.
"Probably elven reinforcements. They must have arrived just after we left. Elisia and the guys weren't quick enough to get the fuck out of dodge, so the elves decided to take out their anger on them. There were a bunch of crows flying around instead of feasting on the corpses, like they were fucking drones."

Marcel raised an eyebrow and flicked some of the ash on the ground.
"You think they used crows as scouts?"

"Maybe. Sure hope not, or we would have to shoot every fucking bird we see. But if they could summon an entire forest, roots and all, to fight for them and protect them, why not crows too?" Clyde replied, tapping the report on the data pad with his right middle finger.
"We won't know until we talk to Elisia."

His friend nodded in agreement before slowly getting up from his seat.
"Speaking of, we should probably go. The curiosity is starting to overwhelm me."

***

Elisia was never a fan of cucumbers. While she hated eating them as a child, often fussing over the fact that they had no flavour at all, the knight did not like being dressed as one either. The clothes that Jeremy provided as a substitute for her drenched clothing were a standard military long-sleeved shirt and baggy pants with big pockets. Both of which were a darkish green colour.

"Betrayal rarely comes from an enemy" was a human saying, one that rang true on both sides of the gates. And Elisia felt it first-hand, because it was none other than Layla who pointed out how silly the green clothes looked on the knight.

In truth, the clothes and how out of place she looked in them were a welcome distraction. Something to fuss over to keep her mind occupied, to keep the thoughts of her run-in with Aurelia at bay. Though she avoided thinking about it as much as she could, pacing back and forth inside the room and checking the outfit from different angles, Elisia couldn't help but face the realisation that she finally understood how Filtz felt after his party disbanded following the dungeon quest.

Ever since the wyvern attack on Perriman's duchy did Elisia felt like she had her arms tied behind her back. Like she was helpless and unable to act. She wasn't able to keep guards like Savik in line. She wasn't able to punish the wrongdoers for their crimes. She wasn't able to prevent Perriman's escape. She was helpless in the face of her brother's turmoil, unable to even see the darkness clutching his heart for so long. If it weren't for the three otherworlders, she wouldn't have even been able to save Filtz.

The string of failures did not end there. She wasn't able to hold on to her anger towards the invaders, wasn't even able to follow the Queen's orders to the end. The thoughts overwhelmed her, tearing down the flimsy dam of distractions she created.
"Maybe Aurelia's attack wasn't random. Maybe she was sent by the Gods as my punishment. To remind me how much I fucked up."

Though the room was quiet and smelled like dirt and rubber, Elisia could still smell the stench of burning. Flesh sticking to metal, the men under her command screaming in agony. She clenched her fists hard, not even feeling the pain of her nails digging into her palms, nor the warm tears rolling down her cheeks.

Layla was still in the room with Elisia, but her presence was no longer registered by the knight. All that she could feel was guilt and rage, which quickly dragged her mind to the darkest of places. It wasn't until Layla's hand was firmly on her shoulder that she snapped out of it.

Elisia sniffed and quickly wiped her face with the palms of her right hand, while the other tugged on the shirt, pretending to inspect it for the tenth time as she turned to face Layla.
"You think I should ask if they have a different colour? Maybe something less green?"

The mage gave no reply. She simply wrapped her arms around the knight, embracing her tightly. What few mental barriers remained were shattered in an instant. Elisia hugged Layla, squeezing her as if she were drowning and the other woman was her only lifeline. No sobs, just soft trembling while she shared her burden.

Their moment was cut short by three loud knocks on the door. Layla took a step back from Elisia, giving the blonde woman some space to compose herself and wipe her face with the shirt. Just as Elisia straightened herself out, the door opened and in walked Clyde and Marcel.

The men looked just like they did when Layla first met them. The tall Warhound's head was cleanly shaven, and his beard, while still thick, no longer looked like an unkempt mess. Marcel, on the other hand, kept his hair; however, it was cut very short, same with his beard. Both men looked like entirely different people, now that they wore their usual clothes instead of rags or whatever clothes Elisia's mother gave them.

Elisia sat down on her bed, and Layla sat next to her, while the two Warhounds sat on the bed across from them. The question hung in the air before any words were even said.

"It was Aurelia." The knight said without hesitation, looking up from her hands, which rested in her lap, towards the men.
"That's what you came to ask, right?"

Clyde chuckled.
"Well, I was gonna open with asking 'how are you feeling?'"

Elisia felt the question tug at her heartstrings, drawing out a pitiful smile.
"I would say I've been through worse, but then I'd be a liar."

Elisia's words hit Layla like a bag of bricks. She had, just like the two Warhounds, assumed Elisia and the guards were attacked by the elven reinforcements. The mage knew her friend would eventually tell her what happened, so she didn't press the question immediately when the knight woke up. But she never would've guessed who truly was to blame, even if she were given a lifetime to do so.

Aurelia's name seemed to hang in the air, and besides Elisia, Layla was the only one who understood its weight. Mitsura had no clue who the High Elf was, and the same applied to Clyde and Marcel.

"Aurelia? That name supposed to mean something?" Clyde asked, finally breaking the tense silence.

Elisia wasn't surprised at the man's lack of appropriate reaction. High Elves never dealt with the world's issues directly, but by guiding lesser, mortal races through wisdom and counsel. So even when faced with a supposed threat that the otherworldly humans posed, Aurelia wouldn't have engaged them directly.

Seeing that Elisia was struggling with finding her voice, Layla took it upon herself to answer Clyde's question.
"She is a High Elf and a Great Mage. She goes by many names: 'White Maiden', 'Guardian of Vatur', just to name a few. She was the one who brokered peace between the Vatur Kingdom and the Marbella Kingdom, seven centuries ago."

"High Elf? So, there is more than one kind of elf?" Marcel asked.

"Yes. Elves, High Elves and Dark Elves."

"Fuck me, they come in more flavours than a Snickers bar." The Colonel groaned.

Layla nodded, turning to look at Elisia. By logic alone, the knight should not be sitting next to her. Elisia was skilled and talented, so much so that the thought of her fighting off elven reinforcements while being outnumbered and somehow escaping with her life was believable. But no amount of skill or talent would ever be enough for a human to survive a fight against a Great Mage. Even Queen Kyara Ikaris Marbella, blessed with the dragon's soul, would not stand a chance if a High Elf truly wanted her dead.

"Judging by the look on your faces, that Aurelia must be a big deal, huh?" Clyde said with a grin.

"Yes. High Elves are venerated as divine by the Elves. Adored by mana, all-powerful, truly immortal. The passing of time does not affect them; they can cast even the most complex of spells without so much as uttering a word. They are as close to being demigods made flesh as one can be." Layla replied, speaking louder and louder with each word, hoping to paint a picture that the two men would understand.

She turned to Elisia once more, looking at her with disbelief. She didn't wish to inflict further pain upon her friend, but the need to know was too much to hold back.
"To have faced her and lived, it's just not possible. Please, tell us everything."

And so, Elisia told them of her fight with the High Elf, if one could even call it that. She spared no words, omitted no details, no matter how painful they were. The group listened intently.

When the knight told them what Aurelia told her, Clyde's face brightened as his suspicion was slowly confirmed. He rubbed his beard a few times while thinking to himself.
"So, the elven general didn't botch the spell. She was purposefully thrown under the bus. Why, though?"

Layla went from shocked to mortified as the story went on, realising that the High Elf truly had every intention of killing Elisia. As the knight took a pause to compose herself again, the cat seized the opportunity to ask a question of her own.
"How did you survive then? If she had you encased in ice."

Memories of the High Elf's fingers and ear being shot off resurfaced in the knight's mind, bringing a weak but triumphant smile to her face. She pointed towards the two men sitting across from her and repeated the very words Aurelia screamed.
"They left one behind."

Clyde's eyes lit up as she said those words. Neither of the two women has seen the large Warhound look so alive before. To Layla, in that moment, the Colonel looked the same as Captain Howler; more animal than man. The mage couldn't understand the reason for such sudden glee.

"The bitch bleeds, doesn't she?" He asked, never breaking eye contact with Elisia.

The knight just nodded. Layla felt as if she was witnessing an exchange she wasn't a part of anymore. She simply stared at Elisia, more curious than ever.

Clyde clapped his hands once and then wiped his palms against his pants. The atmosphere returned to normal, and the spark in his eyes disappeared without a trace. He stood up and stretched before speaking.
"Well, it seems that that Aurelia character is much more involved than just guiding the elves."

"Wait. Don't you want to hear the rest of what happened?" Layla said as the two men headed for the door.

Clyde stopped and turned halfway around, looking at both of them..
"Is there anything else important she said before getting shot?"

"No. She simply began tearing the forest apart, looking for the shooter." The knight replied.

Layla felt like her head was seconds from exploding. Too much information, too impossible to believe, all at once. Aurelia, the High Elf, attacked Elisia, and the latter only managed to survive because the Great Mage was shot by one of the soldiers Clyde ordered to stay behind. It sounded surreal, yet her gut told her that it was true. She sighed and fell backwards on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, choosing to let her mind slowly think about nothing instead. Elisia joined her as well.

Outside, the two men discussed everything they had heard from the knight.

Clyde sighed and fished around in his pocket for a pair of cigarillos.
"This is turning into quite the shitshow."

Marcel nodded and accepted the cig offered by the larger man. He sniffed it, savouring the coffee aroma before lighting it.
"Yes, seems the elves are definitely taking this seriously. Especially if they have someone like Aurelia at the helm."

"We should try to keep our dealings under her radar as much as possible." Said the Colonel.
"Having to deal with someone like her sounds like it would be a hassle."

"She did get shot, though. So, at least we know she isn't bulletproof." Marcel commented.

"Yep. We now know she can be harmed, and she knows we can harm her. So that element of surprise went out the window. If she truly is as long-lived and wise as Layla glazed her to be, I doubt she'll make a similar mistake any time soon."

" 'Soon' can be centuries for elves." The Major pointed out.

Clyde exhaled the smoke through his nose and nodded.
"Right you are, Marcel Ol' Boy. That's why we're gonna have to squeeze the elf we have for information about this demigod of theirs. Let Anita know she'll be in charge of interrogating the elf tomorrow."