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“It is the one true physical characteristic which parts us clearly from the humans,” Lief said. “The other differences are not so visible.”

“You’re an elf!” Ryson exclaimed.

The delver stared at each pointed ear until Lief released his hair and covered them once more. The delver dropped his gaze to the ground and brought his own hand to his forehead.

“What am I saying?” the delver moaned. “How was I to know that elves exist? They’re not supposed to exist. And the dead aren’t supposed to rise. And magic is something for sideshow illusionists and fairy tales. What’s happening here?! What’s happening to me?!”

Lief spoke slowly and reassuringly to the delver. “I will tell you all I can. I will tell you of things you may refuse to believe, for I will almost assuredly destroy your previous outlook of this world.”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Ryson groaned with all honesty. His thoughts were a whirlwind. Logic failed to bring light to his scattered mind. He could not erase the image of the walking dead, as he could not avoid casting disbelieving glance after disbelieving glance at his new found companion. The elf’s words were no more than a buzzing in his ear which he strained to hear.

“I don’t know exactly how much you know of the legends,” Lief Woodson continued. “Perhaps what you have heard is only the barest reference to the past.”

Ryson kicked at the ground slowly. Seizing upon something he could answer with certainty, he spoke of his own knowledge on the subject. “I’ve probably heard more than most,” he admitted. “My parents wanted me to be acquainted with the legends, not so I would believe them, but so I would be aware of what others thought. I guess it’s part of being a delver.”

“You may wish to thank your parents for that some day. If it is true, you may well be better prepared for what I see as inevitable.”

The delver brought his focus back to the face of the elf. He stared deeply into Lief’s eyes. “Tell me the truth, what’s happening? What in the name of Godson is going on?”

Lief attempted to show even greater compassion. His own distress, however, became growingly apparent.

“I believe I know,” the elf stated, “though others in my camp continue to reject the idea. The existence of the undead, however, confirms my theory. The only question which remains is how it has occurred. The Sphere of Ingar is free from its containment. It is the only answer.”

“Ingar’s sphere?”

“You know of it?”

“Of course I know of it,” Ryson replied. “It’s the most important of the legends. It’s supposed to explain how the world rid itself of magic and the dark creatures.”

Lief nodded to the pile of broken bones and flesh before them. “As you saw for yourself, the dark creatures have returned. Magic is also loose in the land. The blue glow which left the corpse, that was spell remnants. Magic. Perhaps, dark sorcery. Nothing else can explain it.”

“But the Sphere of Ingar? Come on! Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“I expect nothing,” Lief frowned

“But you’re telling me these things. You must be hoping to convince me of them.”

“What would you have me do?” the elf questioned with a tone of harshness. “You have asked me what is happening. I am telling you what I believe to be true. Should I tell you that I am not an elf and that this corpse did not come to life? What is it you expect of me?”

Ryson sighed heavily. He did not know what he wanted. If these were the true answers to his questions, they left only more puzzles. “You have to forgive me, but I need a moment to sort this out. What you’re saying defies all logic.”

“I understand,” the elf grumbled grudgingly. “Take a moment to gather yourself, but be warned, I can not totally disregard time. I must return to my camp to warn them of this. The elves are in great peril.”

Ryson did not ask for further explanation on that point. Enough confusing, contradictory thoughts bounded through his mind as it was. The last thing he needed was to hear of more outlandish tales. Still, if Lief was right, he had to consider the outlandish; the myths and the legends. His mind rolled back to the tales he learned as a child.

The image of his mother came firmly into mind. He could see her in the kitchen at the holidays. He remembered being young and eager to learn everything. He listened with great intent as she began her teachings of the old stories. He could almost smell the baking of bread and hear her reassuring voice as he reflected upon elf tales and the legend of Ingar.

His mind then shifted to an image of his father who taught him how to use his abilities. In the forests and the mountains, he showed him how to leap and climb. He also told him everything he knew from ancient lore, such as the Book of Godson. He spoke of massive creatures called cliff behemoths that lived solely upon these words.

Cliff behemoths! Could such creatures rally exist?! Yet, here stood an elf before him. If an elf existed, why not a cliff behemoth? Why not an algor for that matter? Tailless lizards could be no more difficult to believe than the dead walking and raising arms against him. What was the explanation that caused this? Magic? Real magic, not fake tricks? The Sphere of Ingar was supposed to contain all the magical energy. But according to the legends, the sphere was entombed long ago. If there is indeed such a talisman, then there must also be sorcerers and wizards.

Such disquieting thoughts continued to cloud his mind. He walked about, circling the pines nearby. He mumbled to himself over and over. This was too much for any one man to accept, even a delver. However, he could not deny the simple facts before him. A corpse attacked him. Something which should have been unable to even move had shown the ability to carry and throw a crude spear, to chase and even choke him. There also stood before him what looked like, for all intents and purposes, an elf. Lief Woodson appeared honest and forthright, and had pointed ears.

Ryson eventually found himself standing once more by the side of the elf. He also found himself retracing the same thoughts over and over again. Finally, he spoke with forced determination.

“I don’t know what’s going on. That’s the unfortunate answer. I have no idea whatsoever. Either I’m mad or you’re right. Since I don’t want to believe I’ve lost my mind, I have to hope to find another answer. You may be right, but it’s a little much for me to just accept. Maybe it’s best for me to be just what I am, a delver, and look for the answers.”

Lief nodded in pensive approval. “I hope that also means that you may be willing to assist me. I have said before I lack knowledge. A delver’s assistance would help me greatly. It will also serve your own purposes for it will bring you greater information. You will see things you never expected to see in your life.”

“That’s already happened. I look at you now. I never expected to see an elf, let alone talk to one.”

Lief allowed himself to laugh once more. He spoke with a smile through his momentary chuckle. “I suppose that means you really believe I am an elf. I’m glad I will not have to argue that point any further. Actually, I doubt you really know what to make of me at all. You should have seen your face when I showed you my ears.”

“It’s just that I never expected this,” Ryson admitted while revealing a hint of embarrassment.

“It will be new to us all,” Lief stated. “The last contact between elf and human occurred so long ago that I can’t even remember. It looks as if now we have no choice. Elves will have to come out into the open once more. But enough of that. Will you assist me?”

Ryson considered the request carefully. “Assist you? How?”

“As I have said, I need information. I need to know what you’ve seen and heard, and why you are here.” The elf stated this pointedly.

“I’ll do what I can.”

“And I will help you. I will prepare you for what I expect to find. By the way, if we are to assist one another, what shall I call you?”

The delver was taken slightly aback. He never could have expected he would be introducing himself to a being he thought existed only in fantasy. “I’m sorry. I’m Ryson Acumen. I should have told you much sooner.

“It’s more than understandable. Think nothing more of it. Now, we have important business to attend to.” Lief’s congeniality faded into dark seriousness. Bleakness stretched across his face, his words dropped from his mouth like dead anchors. “I must ask you now what you were doing in this part of the forest. It is not a passage and there are no towns about. Are the humans thinking again of expanding their territory? Were you investigating the lands for them?”

“No, not really.” Ryson struggled to maintain an even flow of thought. So much had occurred in recent moments; he found it difficult to latch upon those events which brought him to Dark Spruce in the first place. Laboriously, he summed up the reasons for his exploration. “It was the quake, a tremor that rolled through Connel a few days ago.” In truth, he wasn’t sure how long ago the tremor disturbed the grounds surrounding Connel. He continued as if trying to pull thoughts one by one from his head. “I wanted to see what effect it had on the land. The town council also wanted an exploration. At first, I was sent to inspect damage to some neighboring towns. I’ve completed that. I left Pinesway this morning to follow the tremor, and that led me into the forest. I’m still trying to see how things have changed. I’m also seeking the origin of the quake.”

Lief considered the explanation with apparent confusion. “I do not mean to question you, but when I first spotted you, you were traveling south. You were not following the path of the tremor. That leads to the west”

“Yes. I have to admit I lost my focus,” Ryson responded with greater certainty. The reason for his change in direction was the undead attacker, and that memory could not be washed from his mind. “I noticed a smell. It was so strange and new, it pulled at me. Sometimes that’s the price of being a delver. We never know how our instincts will guide us. It guided me to this.” He nodded to the corpse. The sight now revolted him. “But it is my intention to return to the path of the tremor. By the way, were you aware of the quake?”

The question brought further anguish to Lief’s demeanor, graveness painted his face even darker. He looked to the west, as if he could see through the thicket of trees which surrounded them. “I’m all too aware of the disturbance which passed. It is that same tremor which preceded incidents of great magnitude. It is why I have the fears which I do.”

“You mean about the Sphere of Ingar?”

“Indeed. While the quake did little damage to our camp, I feel it signified something more. Within hours of the tremor, my people experienced many amazing things. Older elves found themselves rejuvenated with youthful vitality. Younger elves showed an uncanny ability to foretell events and see into the minds of others. As the day passed, it soon became apparent that the

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