The Fire and the Storm - Metric Pro Edition: Fiction, Dragons, Elves, Unicorns, Magic (15 page)

They spent almost no time on playing as other children played, instead they spent their time learning and exercising with almost fanatical discipline.  Even when their parents and Alilia played basic games with them like tag, or hide and seek, (which was a challenge in psionic Shielding for all involved) the twins competed with an intensity worthy of finalists in the world’s great tournaments.  When they played catch, they always strove to catch the ball and throw it back as quickly as possible, and as hard and as accurately as possible, usually aimed at the other person’s head.  They never laughed when they were playing, for there was no room for humor in their almost-grim concentration, but they laughed about it readily enough when a break was taken, and they were gracious in victory and in loss.

The first anniversary of the community’s founding came, was celebrated, and passed.

Vanakit Lamitkeze crouched on the branch of a tree, watching those he’d conquered training on the ground beneath him and in the trees around him.  As always, his face was hardened with a glowering expression of hatred.  Thoughts of revenge consumed him.  Since his recovery, his obsession was so powerful that he no longer cared about anything else, not even his own status.  Somewhat ironically, his new viciousness and fanaticism had served to raise his status in the eyes of his people quite considerably.  But not as much as the conquests he’d made.

It had been a fiendishly difficult task to identify his tormentor without being noticed by her.  For many days he had flown a circle around the intruders’ settlement, kilometers away and as high as he was capable, viewing the settlement with his people’s best magnification of vision spell.  He knew which direction his tormentor lay at all times, and by looking in that direction as he flew constantly around the settlement, he had eventually triangulated his target to a single dwelling.  At first, he was unable to determine which occupant of the dwelling he was seeking, but then his target had finally gone with her brother to the small valley behind their home without their parents.  As soon as he knew that it was one of two tiny elves, he knew which one he sought.  He had a flashback to the nightmare of her attack, and then he knew her.

He then knew she had still been a baby in her mother’s womb when she had nearly killed him, almost by accident.  The knowledge that he had been so thoroughly bested by such a person filled him with a humiliation as great as his hatred.  He knew he had best act soon, while she was still physically and magically helpless.  She was never apart from her brother, so he knew he would have to take them both.  Above all, he must kill her before any of his people could learn that it was she who had attacked him, and that it was she who continued to torment him with her constant, nagging intrusion in his mind. 

But he had to deal with her psionic power, and he had to take her without involving the rest of her people, which required a plan of unprecedented stealth.  The Lord had warned all of The Sylvan of Stealth that the newcomers possessed great power, perhaps enough between them to destroy every Sylvan on the islands, and that they were not to be interfered with.  But the Lord was gone for a score of years, and Vanakit was not capable of waiting.

He had recruited his chosen followers by defeating them with stealth and combat, then beating and torturing them until they thought that doing what he instructed was not such a bad thing.  Some of them were far more dangerous than he was, but he’d saved them for last, and by then he had enough of an army to overwhelm them.  Some of his people had feared that he meant to conquer them all, but he only needed about five hundred of them for his plan, all carefully chosen, including all of their most skillful and powerful psionicists.  Now his conquered trained under his watchful eye, and the rest covertly watched with interest to see what he meant to do.

At four and a half months of age Reggie was already the size of a one-year-old human; ten kilograms and seventy-four centimeters tall.  Helemia had more than doubled in weight to three and two-thirds kilos, and was almost sixty centimeters tall.  They were sitting motionless on the floor, staring at a pebble on a stool between them one evening, when Yazadril came by for a visit.  They didn’t move as their great-grandfather was greeted by their parents and Alilia.

“I’ve come because I’m concerned about your children.” Yazadril began as he accepted a cup of tea.  “I haven’t discussed this with anyone else yet, but I’ve noticed that they never spend time with any of the other children.”

“And you don’t know why?” Mark asked in surprise.

“Well, I’ll admit that it’s a bit unnerving to see such young infants running around like eight-year-olds, and I understand that the other children are a bit intimidated by them, but I still think it would be better for them to develop some relationships among the other children.”

“Father, to say that the other children are a bit intimidated by them is a vast understatement.” Talia laughed.  “The other kids are scared witless of them.  So are most of the adults, especially the humans.”

“Including most of my own family, unfortunately.” Mark chuckled.

“You may not have noticed this, as you have some of the best psionic Shields and you habitually keep them up all the time, and you’re a very confident person.” Talia continued.  “But with most people, Reggie and Helemia can’t help but Read everything a person’s thinking as soon as they look at them, unless they make a concerted effort not to, and even that doesn’t help if they get distracted.  By the time either one of them have talked to anyone for more than five minutes, they usually know everything that person has thought in the last week.  And many of the thoughts they receive are not complimentary to them.  Furthermore, the person
knows
they’ve been Read, and most people are pretty uncomfortable with being Read that thoroughly by a couple of babies.  The twins are well-liked by all, and well-respected, but still, thoughts like ‘scary little freaks’ and ‘abominations’ have come up with disturbing regularity.”

“And on top of that is the fact that some of Reggie and Helemia thoughts, words and behaviors are in keeping with young children,” Mark added, “But they often act like teenagers or adults.  They almost never act like babies.  So people find them strange, unpredictable, and disconcerting in the extreme.

“And if all that wasn’t enough, Helemia likes to scare people.  Once we realized that she was doing it we had her stop, but word gets around.”

“Helemia?  Really?” Yazadril asked in surprise as he turned to consider the children.

“I just got tired of people being scared of me.”
Helemia shrugged as she and Reggie ended their concentration on the pebble. 
“I wasn’t surprised when we were at Uncle Theramin and Auntie Yzell’s house and their kids were scared of us. But I didn’t expect it from Uncle Theramin, and when I realized he was scared of me too, I was a bit hurt, and a bit mad.  So I thought; fine, I’ll give you a reason to be scared of me.  And it was so fun that I did it to a few more people after that, until Mother told me not to.  I did it to Father once, and that was the most fun of all because he was so easy, but he doesn’t fall for it anymore.”

“Now we only visit the ones that aren’t very scared of us.” Reggie added.  “That’s you and Grandmother Nemia, Aunt Dalia and Uncle Bezedil, the unicorns, and the Dragons.  Nek Sibook isn’t very scared of us, she likes us a lot, but her husband Prince Reen is one of the people Helemia scared on purpose, so now we only see Nek when she comes here to visit us.  Without Reen.”

“Can I scare Grandfather, Mother?”
Helemia giggled.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Talia responded with a mischievous little smile for her father.  “Your grandfather is First Wizard and First Battle Wizard among the elves, First Commander of all the militaries of Kellaran, and a veteran of dozens of wars and thousands of battles.  Such a mighty elf as he would be hard to scare, I think.”

“I bet I could still scare him!”
Helemia laughed.

“Well forewarned is forearmed, and I admit I’m curious.” Yazadril chuckled.  “Give it your best, and we’ll see.”

Helemia stood and glared at him, and her face took on an expression of incredible viciousness. 
“You may be mighty, Grandfather, and I am only four and a half months old, but you are already helpless before me.  Feel THAT.”

Yazadril winced.

“If I wanted to, I could shred your psionic Shields like paper and crush your mind like a bug under my foot, and leave you screaming in agony for thousands of years.”
Helemia continued as she slowly stepped closer, her psionic voice a menacing growl.    Since she didn’t have to speak with her mouth, there was no interruption in the ever-increasing malevolence of her facial expression.  Suddenly she ran two steps and grasped the edge of the kitchen table, which was as high as she could reach, and swung herself up onto it.  She landed in the center of it facing Yazadril in a perfect martial arts low stance, crouched on one knee with her fists cocked.  Her baby face seemed a barely-controlled mask of rage, and she almost reeked of danger and menace.

“When I am six years old, I will have the power to destroy cities!”
the tiny baby psionicly yelled as she suddenly cupped her hands and a ball of red and orange fire appeared in them with a loud crack of sound like a small explosion.

“When I’m sixteen, the ability to lay waste to entire continents will be within my grasp!”
she yelled with increasing volume as she seemed to squeeze the fireball in her hands.  As it compressed it brightened and shifted in color to bright yellow, then blue, and its crackle became a roar that grew in volume with her ‘voice’.

“You don’t know if I will enslave the entire world in my iron fist, because you don’t know what I’m thinking, and you lack the power to even scratch my psionic shields, let alone break them!!!”
she yelled, and the fireball became a tiny, white-hot inferno between her hands, it’s roar a deafening shriek.

“You don’t even know if I’m going to tear your throat out with my teeth right NOW!!!”

As she said the last sentence her mouth opened in a snarl that revealed many sharply-pointed and rapidly-growing teeth, and with the last word the fireball exploded with staggering force as she leaped at Yazadril.

“GODS!” he cried as he involuntarily brought his arms up to defend himself, but she was already between them, her hands at his neck.

In that fraction of a moment, it took every last vestige of his self-control to not blast her to dust with all his power.

She hugged him as she kissed him on the cheek, and giggled. 
“You were easy, Grandfather.  Easier than Father even.  I got you good and you know it.  You can’t hide it from me.”

Yazadril tried to calm his racing heart and recapture control of his facial expression.  It took an act of will to do it, but he gently hugged the child.  Reggie and Alilia were laughing openly, while Mark and Talia were at least trying to hide it a bit.

“But how did you do all that?!” he asked in exasperation.  “You were obviously trying to Move the pebble when I arrived, the first lesson in elven magic!  And unsuccessfully!”

“The fireball wasn’t real, Grandfather, it wasn’t even magic.”
Helemia giggled. 
“It was just psionic.  I only made you
think
you saw and heard it.  Same with the teeth, although I do have some now, I have five growing in the front, see?”

“Ah, I see, that’s very good!” Yazadril told her, trying to muster some enthusiasm while feeling off-balance at the sudden change of subject.

“Feeling somewhat disconcerted, Yazadril?” Alilia asked with a smile.  “They’re a disconcerting pair to be sure, though once you get used to them, they’re even more adorable!

“Aren’t you Reggie, you cuddly little thing!” she added as she scooped the baby up and hugged him.

“We sure are, Auntie Alilia!”
Reggie giggled, with no humility at all.

“Anyway, the other kids don’t want to play with them, and we’re not going to force the issue.” Mark stated.  “They’re not particularly bothered by it, so we’re not either.”

“Really, other children are incredibly boring, and most adults are too.”
Reggie opined. 
“Except Karzog.  He’s the only other child who’s our friend.  We play with him all the time when we go visit Kragorram and Povon.”

“We scare him sometimes, but he scares us right back, so it’s all fun!”
Helemia giggled, and climbed down Yazadril to the floor.
  “It’s never boring at all at their house.  Their den I mean.”

Reggie climbed down from Alilia’s lap as well, and the two babies sat at the stool again and resumed staring at the pebble.

“Seriously Yazadril,” Mark told him with a grin, “I thank you for your concern, but Yzell and Hilsith both agree with us that our kids’ emotional health is just fine.”

“Hmm.  Disconcerting indeed.” Yazadril mused as he considered the motionless babies, still looking a bit worried.

“I think you might have overdone it with your Grandfather, Helemia.” Talia chuckled.  “You’d better show him your Markings.”

Both twins turned to Yazadril and pulled the neck of their shirts down and to the left, showing their Markings on the upper left of their chests, right where a crest would be placed on a suit of armor.  Both had the blue and white symbol of The Just Alliance two centimeters wide above the blue mark of the Truthstone and two smaller crowns.

“Uncle Theramin insisted that we take Osbald’s Oath on a Truthstone of Falgaroth after Helemia scared him.”
Reggie told him as they released their shirts and returned their attention to the pebble. 
“And it felt so neat that Mother and Father let us swear it again on both of their crowns, which felt real good, but not as neat as the Truthstone.”

“Ah.  Well come give me a hug before I go.” Yazadril said as he stood.  “And if you’d like, I’ll bring my sword by tomorrow.  You can get the Marking from Mountainfire as well, if you swear Osbald’s Oath on it.”