A pleasant sound wafted through the air like the scent of a flowery garden. Noel and I sat beside Kelser as he struck the chords on a strange but familiar looking instrument. The instrument was crude and Kelser wasn’t the most refined and sophisticated of musicians, but it was tough to mess up the simple chords he was playing.
The instrument looked like a lute made out of a type of wild bottle gourd. The strings were made from a type of tough sinew, which elder Kezler said could only be taken from a monster that lived far in the North, in the territory of one of the tribes that would be coming for the summer solstice festival.
I clapped as Kelser finished playing his chords, which confused some of the humans since they weren’t used to clapping as a sign of appreciation. After explaining what it meant, the humans laughed and joined in, enthusiastically clapping to let young Kelser know that he had done well.
I smiled dryly. The humans were still obsessed with us as elves, and would try to mimic us all the time. Little did they know, when they were mimicking me, they were merely mimicking other humans, albeit ones from another Earth!
“Can I give it a go?” I said, as Kelser left the middle of the circle. He handed me the lute and put some more wood in the campfire. I sat down on the ground and struck a few chords to get a feel for the sounds of the instrument.
I didn’t play anything too fancy, since it wasn’t an instrument I was familiar with. And despite the many other things I had learned to do, I never quite managed to properly learn an instrument. A brief flirtation with the violin was the most I’d ever done, but I was never any good at it. Only good enough to play a little Ode to Joy while drunk on beer with some European friends at a talent show in college.
And so I figured I’d mix in some poetry, to help give the song some more weight. The verses weren’t anything special, and I wasn’t even sure if they counted as poetry, but they had come to mind because of the mesmerizing view I had up on this hill by an ancient temple under a bright and cheerful night sky. What a privilege, this sight of the sky, clearer than any I’d seen back on Earth, even during summer camp in the wilderness of Maine. Looking at the faces of all the humans that may have been considered ‘savages’ and ‘brutes’ by many people back on my Earth, and seeing their joy, their wonder, their curiosity and happiness, I figured what better time could there possibly be, for some Shakespeare?
“Be not afeard; the (hill) is full of noises,
Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,
That, if I then had wak’d after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open, and show riches
Ready to drop upon me; that, when I wak’d
I cried to dream again.”
I didn’t sing the verses, since blank verse like this didn’t make for great lyrics, but the instrument was pretty rough and my own skills with it were very crude, so everything sort of worked together in its imperfection. Being reminded of Caliban, the character from William Shakespeare’s play The Tempest, made me wonder if it was okay for me to have so much influence over the people around me. Every time the humans looked up to me, I felt a strange feeling in my gut, one that made me feel both powerful and weak. I’d felt that way when I helped the humans make copper weapons, and I had a similar feeling whenever I taught them magic. This feeling made me hesitate to teach magic to Noel and the other elves, too.
Who was I to teach magic to those who had been born in a magical world? I was confident in myself and my abilities, but how could anyone be truly convinced they were on the right path when their thoughts, after some practice and reflection, could become reality? And how could anyone proceed with confidence when they held the key to changing the trajectory of an entire people. The gravity of the situation was not lost on me.
I did not have a savior complex, like some sort of rich high school kid doing a charity event in a third world slum so he can write about it in his college application. I was aware of the colonial parallels of my situation. How many times throughout history had someone tried to “civilize” others only to reveal their own barbarity? To denigrate and destroy the cultures and way of life of others, so that in its place they could put the golden lamb of ‘progress’.
Thinking back on it now, if I had ever fantasized about being placed in this position, would I have imagined myself doing things differently? If I could see myself right now as if on a movie screen or written out on the pages of a book, would I be yelling at myself: “stop trying to fight Farro Birds and don’t try to find Noel’s family! Hunker down and use what you know to bring modern medicine, science, and philosophy into this world, backed by the power of knowledge based magic!”
It was tough to put my feelings into words. The contradictory thoughts of wanting to help the people of this world, but not knowing if ‘progress’ as defined by the humans of my world, was their only option. The only thing I knew was that there was no reason for me to not help them ‘develop’ in some way. The absence of modern medicine alone was enough of a reason to start setting up schools and designing a curriculum.
I handed the lute over to another Roja tribesman and sat back down next to Noel, elder Kezler, and Kelser. We began talking about what we were going to do when the other tribes arrived.
“I think we should lay low at first,” said Noel.
“Why do you think so?” I asked.
“Their most holy relic is an elfin skull,” said Noel. “If two living breathing elves show up at their temple, they might freak out even worse than the Roja did.”
“You’ve got a point,” I said. “Besides, there is definitely something strange going on here. You saw those carvings in the passageway leading up to the temple, right?”
“The carvings that tell the history of the tribes of the double river basin?” said elder Kezler. “They have been here for many generations.”
“Yes, but that’s just it, those carvings are way too detailed,” I said.
“Perhaps they were made right after the elves left,” said the elder. “With the memories fresh in their minds, the ancestors must have wanted to tell their story through the ages.”
“But then where are yours?” I asked.
“Ours?” asked the elder. “I’m afraid I do not understand, teacher.”
“If the human Jora tribe figured out how to record history, which is something the humans of my world didn’t figure out until much, much later than they did, then why do your people not record their history this way too? All you had were cave paintings that didn’t record actual history, only abstract representations of it,” I said.
The elder frowned. “I do not know. Perhaps it is because we do not have many tribesmen who are skilled at carving stone.”
“Or maybe, the human Jora tribe were not the ones who made those carvings,” I said.
Silence. “Was it the elves?” said Kelser. “No, that wouldn’t make any sense. The carvings show the elves leaving.”
“If it wasn’t made by humans nor elves,” said Noel, “then that just leaves the immortals.”
I nodded. “I am not saying we need to assume this entire place was the work of immortals. Making a temple out of limestone with only stone tools and simple magic would be tough but not impossible. The only thing that doesn’t fit what we know about the humans of this world are those carvings. It reminds me of the runes that were on the entrance to the cave of The Terrible.” We had already told Kezler and Kelser about our adventures on the Plains of Serenity, so they also nodded when I mentioned the runes.
“And the runes were tied to the God of Evil,” said Noel. “The immortal that rules over the red star.”
“Do you think the God of Evil is involved with Beke Tep, too?” asked Kelser.
“We can’t be certain,” I said. “But I agree with Noel’s suggestion, now. We need to lay low at first. Noel and I can reveal ourselves when the time is right.”
We spent the next few days practicing magic and preparing our disguises. Soon, we saw the first tribe approaching the temple from a distance.
Drop a heart!