Jazmyn's excitement was beyond words. She wanted to touch them, study them, listen to them, whatever she could do. Her career as an scholar and archaeologist had been rich, but this by far had overshadowed every moment in her journey. She had so many questions and yet she felt like she would never have the time for all of them to be answered. How have they survived down here? What caused their castle to sink? How old are they? Why can one shoot ice from his hands and they other fire? They had rushed out of the hall so quickly, she didn't get a chance to even ask one question. Gallador told her and the rest to stay put while he and Tytus talked with the two elves.

Her, Miles and Gabrielen sat in the corner of their original refuge speaking with the presumed dead ranger, Cristomir. He had told them another female elf had healed him and Danticus, bringing them back to life. She asked if they could bring Irving back as well, but the older one said it would be impossible, with the large creature outside and his body being unrecoverable. She fought hard to resist crying, having almost never shed a tear in her life. But Irving was like a father to her. Sure, a grumpy, cynical father. But that was better than the one she had.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Asked Miles.

"What aren't they talking about?" Said Jazmyn. "I would ask everything and anything I could."

"I don't understand...how are they alive? They've lived in a kingdom under water, underwater...and yet they're breathing and walking...it doesn't make any sense," said Miles.

Jazmyn shrugged. "Maybe they had food...but how much? How long have they been down here?" she asked.

"I don't know of any type of food that lasts that long..." said Miles.

"They've been down here for a thousand years. Tyren would catch fish that would fall through the barrier and cook it. He explained it all to me and Danticus." Said Cristomir.

"Where is Danticus?" Said Jazmyn.

Cristomir shrugged. "Hopefully him and Aryanne are okay. The Scrag had separated us after we left to find you guys. I just hope he's okay."

Jazmyn was astonished the ranger was alive. They all saw him die, right before their eyes as one of the monsters had sunken it's teeth into his neck. And the way his cousin reacted...it was heart breaking. But to learn they were both alive, healed by elves...it was the stuff of children's books, she thought. But something seemed off about Cristomir. He didn't seem the same, almost like a part of him was missing. Maybe that's what happens when you die. Maybe a part of him is in the heavens, and the rest is down here.

Gabrielen spoke up. "Are they like the legends say? Are they..." he paused, looking to the elves to ensure his voice was inaudible. "Are they evil?"

Cristomir shook his head. "Quite the opposite, actually. I think we have it wrong...I think...I think Jorik was evil."

Jazmyn slightly cocked her head in confusion, as did Miles. "You should watch what you say, Cristomir. The gods are always listening," Said Miles.

"What do you mean he was 'evil'?" Jazmyn asked.

Cristomir shifted in his seat. "From what I can tell, they seem good. I can't imagine why a man would desire not only to kill a few, but all of them? They brought me back to life. I can't imagine that the creatures we are told of in our bedtime stories are the same as these ones. They aren't monsters who lurk in the shadows, they were just caught under Jorik's."

"What do you think will happen to them? How will the people of Jorden react to them?" Said Miles.

"I bet that's what they're discussing," said Gabrielen.

Jazmyn noticed the conversation and voices had become quieter. Gallador and the older elf had seem to be finished talking. The four of them walked over to the rest of the group. They sat, and after some anticipation, Gallador finally spoke.

"Friends, this is Tyren and his nephew, Valyn. They're," he struggled to say the words he thought he would never say in his life, "they're elves."

Before he could speak again, Jazmyn fired a question. "How did your castle sink."

Tyren took a few seconds to answer. "We sunk our castle to escape Jorik's forces...but the spell, something went wrong."

"Wait...you were alive when Jorik was? Oh gods...you must be a thousand years old!" Jazmyn said.

Tyren nodded. "Yes...elves age rather...slowly. I'm surprised how little you know about us."

Jazmyn frowned. "I knew elves had a long lifespan...but a thousand years? That's remarkable."

"I'm actually two thousand and four hundred years." Said Tyren.

Again, Jazmyn's draw dropped. "Wow...simply amazing...what was the time before like?"

Before he could answer, Gallador cut her off. "That's enough for now, lass. You can have all your questions answered once we're out of this castle. But right now, it'd be best for us to come up with a plan."

"A plan for what? We're stuck in this place. Our only chance for escape died out in the rowboat," said Miles.

Gallador sighed. He said nothing, as his guilt and distraught plagued him.

"Honestly...Joras will probably send another ship here. He'll want to know what had happened here, as...as Siegfried so told it," Tytus said.

"You're probably right," said Gallador. "We'll have to start taking shifts out on the landing."

"What if that, that beast is still out there? What the hell was that anyway?" Said Miles.

"The beast you speak of is what we call the Scrag." Said Tyren.

"The Scrag?" Said Gabrielen. "Where did you come up with the name?"

He shrugged. "Aryanne came up with the name. I thought it suited the him."

Jazmyn raised her eyebrows. "Him?"

Tyren nodded. "The Scrag was once an elf, like myself. Well, all the cursed ones were. He was a spellcaster, a very powerful one at that. But when they cursed our spell, it was his burden to bear."

"What spell?" Said Miles.

"The spell that would cause our kingdom to sink. It would drag Valadel into the waters below and create a shield over it. But they cursed it."

"Who's they?"

Tyren shook his head. "I do not know. Elven traitors, it would seem. No man can wield the gift of magic."

Jazmyn cocked her head curiously. "Why were you not affected from this curse?"

"The only reason I am still alive is because of my father. He, instead of fusing his life magic with the barrier, projected it over me, my brother and Ellawyn."

"Whose Ellawyn?" Said Tytus.

Tyren's eyes closed, and he frowned. He took a few moments to answer the question. "Ellawyn...was my brother's wife. She is Aryanne's and Valyn's mother. She was....she was also my lover."

Valyn's eyebrows twisted into confusion. "You never told me of that, uncle."

"I never deemed it appropriate...but you may as well know now. My brother, Baylen, had passed away from a wound inflicted upon him by a man. His dying wish was for me to protect Ellawyn and her unborn children. For fourteen moons, we hid together, creating refuges and battling the cursed ones. We fell in love, being the only two of our race left. She gave birth to the twins and...and it killed her. I raised them, always protecting them from the cursed ones. Now..." He sighed and placed his hands on his shoulder. "I was young then. Only fourteen hundred years...now I'm older and wiser. I know what you men are capable of...which is why...if you cause any harm to me or my...my children, I will kill you all."

"Tyren..." said Gallador sternly, "You should watch your tongue. I don't appreciate you speaking to my party like that. And I'm not afraid to do the same."

Tyren glared at him, but softened. "I...I apologize...I understand this is a thousand years later. Jorik is dead and you haven't seen an elf in a thousand years. Or at least...so you think."

"What are you talking about?" Said Tytus.

Tyren pointed to Gabrielen. "This man...he's not what you think. I can sense it in you. You have elven blood."

Gabrielen eyes widened as did everyone elses. "What?!" Said Gallador. "That's...that's impossible...how?"

"Well, I don't sense you as I do Aryanne and Valyn...it's a weaker presence...but I can still sense it. Do you know who has the elven blood?"

Gabrielen looked around the room nervously. "No...I don't, I didn't even..." he stopped speaking as his confusion was overwhelming him.

"Your grandfather, the one you said told you about the kingdom," said Tytus.

Gabrielen was searching for answers in his head. "I...I don't know, maybe...I've only met him a handful of times, but he was a man..."

"Be it as it may...you have elven blood. Have you ever used magic?"

"No...I didn't even know I was elven," said Gabrielen.

"So...maybe there still are elves out there," said Jazmyn. The entire situation had been almost too much for her to handle.

"Well...right now, finding you elves and discovering his elven heritage won't do us any good unless we escape this island. Tytus," Said Gallador, "you're likely right about Joras sending another group out here, so we'll start taking shifts for when the ship may come. In the meantime, the rest of us will find Danticus and Aryanne."

He turned to Tyren. "Do you have any idea where they might be?"

Tyren shook his head. "We lost them by the library, but that place is highly infested. They could've gone anywhere. Valadel is a large castle, it would take a while to search for them. Not to mention the Scrag is also out there as well. "

"I hate that thing," said Tytus.

"As do we," said Valyn.

"Should we split up?" Said Miles.

Gallador and Tyren were silent. "I don't think that's an option," said Gallador.

Tyren shrugged. "Smaller groups could travel quicker. Bigger groups could provide more defense. Neither are more ideal than one another."

"I'm in favor of smaller groups," said Tytus.

"As am I," said Miles. "If we're quick, we don't have to fight the...cursed ones."

Gallador nodded. "You're right. Okay then, Tyren, take Cristomir and your nephew. Search the area where your refuge was located. Tytus, Miles, you and I-"

Tyren shook his head. "Why are you giving me orders? I know this place better than anyone."

Gallador stared him down. He did not appreciate having his authority questioned. "Be it as it may, these are my men. The original leader of this group was killed by that monster out there, a monster from this castle. That puts me in command."

Tyren scoffed. "Well, I'm not taking orders from a man."

Gallador's glare intensified, which Jazmyn thought not possible. "Considering the fact I'm your only chance for escaping this island and finding your other elven companion, I highly suggest you don't crack the thin ice you're already walking on, elf."

Despite what Cristomir had said about the elves, he still didn't trust them. Jorik had killed them all for a reason. And he didn't wish to find out why first hand.

Tyren returned his glare. He finally swallowed his pride for the good of him and his nephew. "Fine...Valyn and I will search the area of our refuge. That's where I hope they went."

"Okay​...good. Tytus, Miles and I will search for them past the grand doors. Gabrielen, Jazmyn, I want the two of you to remain here."

Jazmyn stood up in protest. "Gallador, I want to go with you guys!" She said, rather childishly. "I want to help find them."

"Yeah, I'd rather not sit here doing nothing either," said Gabrielen.

"Sorry lass, but I didn't want you here in this castle in the first place. And Gabrielen, if you are the only elven man, man-elf, hybrid...whatever the hell you are. You're too valuable to risk. Sorry, you'll have to remain here."

"Gallador, I can take care of myself! Ask Tytus, I saved him and Dantic-"

"Enough, Jazmyn. Just please...this is an order. Stay put."

Jazmyn fell back in her chair, defeated. Gallador had no idea what he was talking about. He was old and foolish, she thought. Well, not that old but old enough. She knew she could take care of herself and last out in the halls. She had been in far worse dangerous situations.

Well, that's not true, she thought. But she could handle danger.

"Thank you, Jazmyn," said Gallador. "Now...let's get moving." Him, Tytus and Miles drew their swords, checked their edges and sheathed them again. Tryen's hand grew an orange hue at the base of his wrist, while Valyn's grew a light blue. Their eyes turned white and neither said a word. Jazmyn sat there intently, her desire for knowledge drawing her to the elves like a warrior to battle. The hues faded and their golden irises returned to their blank eyes. They looked at each other and nodded, as if their defenses were in check.

"Ready to go?" Said Gallador

Tyren nodded. Gallador and Tytus lifted the book case with their shoulders. Tyren, and Valyn crouched through and Miles helped hold it up. Tytus went through along with Miles, Gallador taking the weight of the bookcase on his shoulders.

"Alright, we'll be back soon, hopefully with Danticus and the other elf. Stay here." He left, the bookcase falling to the floor.

Jazmyn rolled her eyes, as if she need be told twice, like a child. Her and Gabrielen sat there silently. He was frustrated as well too, maybe not as much as she was. She waited for him to speak first, but time proved it evident he wouldn't.

"So...you're part elf. That's, that's amazing." She said.

Gabrielen gave a half smile and nodded. "Yeah...I should've known, honestly."

Jazmyn's eyebrows came close together in curiosity. "How so?"

"Jazmyn, I'm eighty years old," he said.

Jazmyn's eyebrows raced to the top of her forehead in shock. The boy before her looked like...a boy! No older than twenty years old. How was she to believe he was truly eighty. He was twice as old as the king, twice as old as Gallador. But then again, he had elven blood. And elves are still alive, apparently.

"Eighty years old!? You look....you look like your-"

"Twenty? That's how old I say I am. I could never understand why I looked so young while all my friends grew old. They would ask me my secret and I would just say, it's in my blood. Guess it literally is." He stared off at nothing particular, and seemed to travel through his memories. "Most of them are old men now, my friends...old or dead."

"Wow...do you think you can wield magick?" Jazmyn asked.

Gabrielen lips moved to the side of his face as he thought to himself. "Maybe. I've never tried. Most in Sylvetria, if not all, think magick's a myth. But I guess they're about to find out it's not...and soon." He said the last part grimly.

"Do you think you'll live to be a thousand years?" She asked.

"I...I have no idea...maybe. Honestly...I don't wish to. If I do, I don't want to meet a woman and have kids and watch them grow old and pass on... and I'm only in my thirties? Or, the elven equivalent, whatever that is."

Jazmyn hadn't given thought to that aspect of living an elven life, or half life. She honestly was jealous of him. Being able to live thousands of years, make thousands of discoveries and meet thousands of people. But what good is it if they all die before you're even half their age?

"You said you only saw your grandfather only a few times...when?"

Gabrielen twisted his head from side to side slightly. "When I was young, just a boy. I lived with him for a time after my mother left. I barely remember the woman. We lived in the Blackrain mountains for a time, but I ran away...just like my mother, I suppose."

"Why did she leave?"

"She never told me. And I'll never get to find out."

Jazmyn could tell why, but felt the urge to ask anyway. "What happened?"

"She disappeared. And before you ask, I don't know why. I was young, and she never left a note. She was nowhere to be found."

"What of your father?" Jazmyn asked.

"I hardly knew him. He was a sailor, and like most sailors, I assume the sea took him..."

"Gabrielen...I'm so sorry."

He shrugged. "There are people with sadder stories than mine."

"So...did your mother or grandfather have the...pointy ears?" She asked. the question nagging at her since the beginning of the conversation.

"No, they had regular ears, like us."

She stared at his. "Yours aren't... 'regular'. They're...ovalish." 

Gabrielen closed his eyes and exhaled. "Yes...I know. People tell me that every time they meet me."

Jazmyn had immediately made the connection that his ears were the result of the elf and human blood combining. But if his mother and grandfather had 'normal' ears, that must've meant his father was the elf.

"Your father was the elf, then," said Jazmyn, sharing her pieced together knowledge.

"Yeah...must've been."

Gabrielen slumped back in his chair, resting his forearms on his leg. Jazmyn studied him, his ears, face, everything. What an incredible specimen, she thought. To be both of the two races, what seemed to be worlds apart living in one. It was fascinating. For a second, she thought his wrists glowed orange, like Tyren's. But immediately after, the candle light quit playing it's tricks.

*****

(Thanks for reading, and I'd love to know what you think! Sound off in the comments! Your feedback is always appreciated!)