Mana Mutation Menace (Journey to Chaos Book 3) (51 page)

“
Elven Tome
, Book of Fredrick the Freak, ch. 5,
verses 9-11. ‘While one’s arm may be strengthened, another’s shall be weakened;
a third shall be transformed and a fourth shall be destroyed. It is the third
who represents Chaos, for it is everything both good and bad. Who among you
would not envy the first, mock the second, and pity the fourth?’”

Alexis stood from her game, spun around, and slapped
Annala across her cheek. Caught off-guard, Annala stumbled back from the force.
Eric’s eyes immediately slitted and he lunged with the right arm of the
grendel. Alexis grabbed it and used it to throw Eric into the floor. Pinning
him in place, she addressed Annala with equal rage.

“Don’t quote scripture at me, school girl! If you were
around during the Conversion War, you wouldn't want those Order-powered fiends
anywhere near our home!"

 “That was over eight hundred years ago!” Annala pleaded. “No
human alive today was alive back then; their grandchildren's grandchildren are
dead and buried. We have to move on. Lao Tu says, ‘Chaos is like a river; if
dammed, it becomes stagnant and breeds disease.’”

Eric struggled in Alexis’ grip, but she held firm. Her
eyes were like jagged pieces of rock.

“You can recite all you want, but it will change nothing.
This isn’t a classroom debate; it’s about the safety of our community. You
don’t have the right to talk to any one of us about that.”

This was the end of the conversation. No one else would
talk to her. She stomped out of the Guardian’s Lodge and into the cold winter
air. The chill made her cheek sting. Despite the rejection and its
implications, she was confident she could drum up support elsewhere.

 While walking across the village, the couple came across
a large wooden platform. It had a tall back and a multitude of scenery shifting
in and out of it. Someone was checking them all: a balcony, a cave, a forest,
and others. This was the stage for Dnnac Ledo’s public performances and the
altar of Remho, god of the theater. Two humans were helping elven children
decorate it.

“Hello, Kallen Enaz,” Eric said. “When were you going to
tell me?”

Kallen’s hands were busy with golden-brown ribbons and symbols
like the Flower of Chaos. “I was going to surprise you, but then these rugrats
roped me into doing this instead.” 

She moved to Eric’s side and his head swam with warmth. As
usual, something about Kallen’s presence made him feel happy and peaceful.
Emily twitched slightly as she carried an empty box off the stage.

“We’re preparing the stage for the upcoming Reenactment of
Elven Origin
. Annala told you about that, right?”

“Yeah. It’s when Tasio turned a human woman into the first
Tariatlan elf.”

Kallen appraised them. “You know...you two would be
stellar in the leading roles.”

"Ohh...uh...I'm...not much an actor," Eric
stammered.

"Well, I think it’s a great idea!" said a new
voice. Eric groaned. Tasio descended to Kallen’s side and patted her on the
back. "Good work."

Kallen bowed in a grandiose manner. "Why, thank you,
milard."

"Eric, I can't think of a better way for you to learn
about elven culture than to be part of a play about their origins."

"There's an angle here somewhere," Eric said.

"You're right." Tasio turned to one of the
children and said, "That ribbon's a little too straight; it should swoop
more."

Eric merely dropped his head.

"So are you?" Kallen wanted to know.

Eric turned to Annala. "I will if you join me."

“Absolutely!” she exclaimed. “In fact, Remho modifies the
play every year; a living story instead of a dead one. I may be able to slip in
lines for Medical Mana Mutation.”

"You already have the script's template,” Kallen
said. “It’s in the
Elven Tome
after all, so pick up the Enaz's copy
sometime and look it over."

Kallen then returned to her decorating, which upon closer
inspection, was really an excuse to play with wreaths.

The couple’s next destination was a
bodhi
tree. It
was the smallest building in the village. If Eric stood on Annala's shoulder,
then he would be taller than it. Together, they could also wrap their arms
around it. A sign held in its branches declared it to be Dnnac Ledo's public
library.

"Must be a small collection..."

"Wait and see-eee," Annala said in a singsong
voice.

She pulled him inside and he stopped in his tracks. His
jaw dropped and then it spread into one of the top five biggest smiles of his
life.

"It...it's...."

"
Yes
?"

"It's bigger on the inside than the outside!"

The bookshelves were so long, they stretched out into
infinity, and they were so tall, their peaks were lost in the distance. It was
the same in every direction; like stepping into another world. He spread his
arms wide and took a deep whiff of the book smell, slowly letting it out.

So many...it would take longer than nine days to read
this….forever to read all this….
His grin grew wider.
Good thing I have
forever.

With the power of elven magic, even text millennia old and
older could still be read, albeit carefully, and new volumes were continuously
being added as they were written. If it couldn't be found here, then elves had
the spare time to track down whatever they were looking for and recreate it if
necessary.

Nor was it limited to books and scrolls. There were
virtual reality headsets for reliving history or demonstrations of scientific
principles. There was a museum wing with exhibits for such wide-ranging
subjects as dinosaurs, spaceships, dinosaurs who
made
spaceships,
planets in other galaxies, every civilization that ever lived on those planets
as well as Tariatla, and microorganisms. Emotions were stored in jars and
thoughts in boxes. Even the astral plane, with its celestial and infernal
realms, could be accessed (remotely for reasons of safety).

Everything about everything could be found here,
especially elven information. From culture to history to magic to architecture
was all at his fingertips. The sheer mass of knowledge compelled him to grab a
text and pitch a tent. The only thing stopping him was the fact that he didn't
have his tent at the moment.

He still signed up for a library card.

“Thank you, Mr. Watley; you’re all set,” said the
librarian.

Carnegie was a portly elf with golden-brown muttonchops. He
wore voluminous clothes and wore glasses, which puzzled Eric. Since the Seed of
Chaos would correct any problem with his vision, he reasoned they were for
aesthetics.

He snatched the card with grendel-like fingers and his
lips separated into a grin. Then he dashed into a bookshelf and disappeared.

“Please excuse my boyfriend,” Annala said. “He’s funny
around large amounts of books. I have a theory that he's equated ‘reading’ with
‘eating’ since his mutation. This place is like the world’s biggest banquet to
him”

“He’s a literal bookworm? Fantastic! Ralm was too
outdoorsy for you anyway.”

“Carnegie…” Annala’s tone was a warning.

“You know, there’s a ‘private reading room’ if you ever
want to use it.” He wriggled his bushy eyebrows suggestively.

Annala blushed intensely. “No! Not yet! Not for a hundred
years or so….”

“Your great aunt said the same thing,” he said with
another eyebrow wiggle.

“Uggh! Just show me primary sources dating back to the
Conversion War!”

Carnegie wrinkled his nose. “An awful time in our history.
I was so worried about those savages finding us that I was ready to pull this
entire building into a pocket dimension.”

Annala twitched. “You don’t say.”

“Oh yes. The spell preparations and energy requirements
were so intensive I was unconscious for a full week. It was worth it, of
course. Whether physical or digital, humans don’t appreciate this sort of
thing. All day and night, they kill each other over petty grievances. In fact,
I could direct you to a book that talks about this mysterious thing known as
kuaki
that drives humans to violent madness and how it started with a single orange.”

“I’ll stick to the Conversion War.”

“Sure.” Carnegie left his desk. “This way, please.”

Soon Annala was laden with centuries-old books: diaries
from prisoners of war, campaign logs of both commanders and soldiers, records
of the exchange and development of mana mutation magitech in the years before
the war, the hostilities leading up to it, and the various peace agreements
made afterwards. While she read, her boyfriend explored.

As he explored, he noticed the Flower of Chaos was carved
in random places all over the library's interior. It was ten lines from ten
directions pointing towards a center and intertwining. This was the same mark
on the door leading to a chamber where he fought a phantom orc, and below where
he found the gold dress that made him think of Annala. That gold dress was
somehow replaced with the crystal that now crowned his staff, making it a spear.
He remembered how much he wanted to see her in it, which led to the most recent
time she dressed up, and the events that led to the collar.

She’s mine, no one else’s. She belongs to me.

They spent hours in the library reading about the
Conversion War. Eric assisted her with the workload, but it was slow going.
Roalt Public High gave the war a balanced view that was also brief. To them, it
was one war among many. For the elves, it was a defining moment in their
history. At last, Annala dropped her head into an opened book.

“I don’t have time for this,” she moaned. “None of these
books are working.” Suddenly, she sat up and snapped the book shut. “Of course
it won’t work! It’s just more academics! That’s what Tasio was talking about! I
need something more real!"

Eric looked up from his book. “What's more real than a
primary source?"

Instead of answering, Annala dashed for other sources of
knowledge. She searched the emotion jars and examined the thought boxes. She
browsed the exhibition for the Conversion War and then stepped into a virtual
reality simulation of it. In the end, she was still unsatisfied.

Sure she knew more about the war now than she did
yesterday, and yes, she felt greater sorrow and sympathy for the elves who
suffered during it, but it wasn't enough. It was still more impersonal study.

"If I want to find reality, then I must look in
delusion!”

"What?"

Annala grabbed his hand, yanked him out of his seat, and
pulled him out the door.

Their next goal was far from the library. The path was through
snow, ice, and other elves looking at them funny. She stopped at a weeping
willow whose branches were parted around the entrance like hair. Annala pointed
to the sign:
Welcome to The Trickster's Shelter
.

"So this is where your Aunt Tris lives?"

Annala nodded.

"And Grandpa Nueces?"

Annala nodded again. "Along with every other elf in
this region that's gone insane."

"That sounds really depressing...or really, really
fun
."

Annala death-glared.

"Depressing, got it! Why are we here?”

“Victims of the Conversion War live here. I read it in one
of the books. If I meet with them, I’ll gain a greater understanding of Aunt
Alexis’ resistance to humans coming here. I won’t find this in a book. As an
anonymous Anich sage once said, ‘Books are nothing but dredges.’”

Like the Guardian’s Lodge and the Public Library, the
inside was bigger than the outside. The reception area alone covered more
ground than the circumference of the branches.

 The receptionist was a kindly older woman. Her hair was
pinned back professionally, but her face was welcoming. She wore a sweater
under an apron in pastel colors. Like the tree itself, she gave off the
impression of a caretaker.

She greeted Annala with a warm smile.

“Good afternoon, Annala. Have you come to visit Tris or Nueces?”

“Neither, Miss Polug. I’m not here for pleasure but
business.” She gestured to Eric. “This is Eric Watley. I met him in Roalt, and
now he’s my boyfriend.”

“Wonderful!” She bowed her head to Eric. “Thank you for
taking care of Annala. After what happened with Ralm
,
we were all afraid
that she wouldn’t find another nice boy. Many of my charges are here because of
loneliness.”

Eric looked to Annala. “Ralm?”

She gritted teeth. “Long story. I’ll tell you later. Miss
Polug, I’d like to visit survivors of the Conversion War.”

She shook her head sadly. With great sympathy, she said,
“Those poor dears. What they suffered at the hands of mortals is unspeakable.
Their condition is delicate, so I need to make sure you won’t cause them any more
harm. Please tell me why you wish to see them.”

"I want to synchronize with them, so I can truly
understand them. I do this so I can understand Aunt Alexis and accommodate her
concerns about a summit meeting here."

Miss Polug blinked. Then she leaned over her desk and eyed
Annala.

“Poking at old wounds in order to convince our village’s
guardians to allow mortals within our borders and give them our technology? You
must
be joking because you’re too young to be afflicted with chaotic
madness.”

“Neither. I’m serious.”

“I can’t allow it.”

“This isn’t about the mortals or their problems!” Annala
pleaded. “It’s about our fellow elves! They’re toiling in slavery and this deal
will save them!”

Miss Polug’s demeanor became severe. From marshmallow soft
to plate mail hard, it was dangerous.

“You will not gain the understanding you seek by synchronizing
with my charges. At best, it would only convince you to abandon this mad plan. At
worst, you'll become crazier than they are. All you will have accomplished is
forcing innocent people to relive the worst moments of their lives, along with
ruining your own. ”