Ellanor and the Search for Organoth Blue Amber by K T Durham

Author:K T Durham [Durham, K T]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781482891102
Published: 2014-04-20T16:00:00+00:00

“Who is Freya?” Miriam asked curiously. Elly had mentioned the name several times.

Elly smiled. “Freya is our Maker. She created elves, and our homeland Alendria. Legend tells that Freya transformed into a star to look over us, for she loves us so.”

Miriam leaned back in her armchair and sighed. “That sounds so beautiful. Like something from an epic poem.”

Horace cleared his throat and scowled. “But what about those nasty goblins? Where did they come from, exactly?”

“Well…” Elly’s brow furrowed. She had never really thought about that before. The existence of the goblins was a reality that seemed as normal as the unpleasant existence of snakes. “I think the goblins have been dwelling in the underworld for as long as elves have lived in Alendria. I suppose the Maker created everything, but I can’t understand why creatures as foul and evil as the goblins were ever created in the first place.”

“Well, I suppose even Alendria isn’t utopia,” Miriam murmured. When Elly looked at her questioningly, she smiled. “Utopia is a perfect world. But such a world holds up only in theory.”

Horace took another gulp of root beer. “What about this… this Royan of yours? You mean, it’s actually… alive?” He eyed the book on her belt warily, half expecting it to spout some magic.

Elly smiled. “My Royan, Greymore, is flowered from a royal acorn of the Tree. A Royan stays with an elf for about two hundred years. By that time, a Royan matures and ripens enough in its acorn form to return to the Tree, where it then flowers, and all that it has learned from its keeper will be assimilated into the intelligence repository of the Tree and shared with the elven community.”

Miriam and Horace gawked at her wide-eyed. “Two… two hundred years?” Miriam asked meekly.

Elly laughed. “Yes. I suppose you now get the idea that elves have a far greater lifespan than that of humans. In general, elves can live for one thousand years.”

“One thousand years!” shouted Miriam and Horace in unison.

Elly giggled. “Yes! So we age very slowly, but we can still die prematurely of extreme grief and severe injury, though our physical constitutions are much stronger than those of humans.”

At this, Horace snorted. “How did we get the short end of the bargain?” he muttered.

Miriam was shaking her head in wonder. “If I may ask, Elly… how old are you?” Please don’t be older than I am, she prayed. That would be too strange.

Elly smiled. “I just turned twelve years, whereas my grandpapa is nearly eight hundred years old. To elves like him, who have lived in the world so long, I am like a little shoot beside a grand oak tree that has seen many summers.”

Miriam cocked her head. “What about this coming of age ceremony you mentioned? Since elves are blessed with long life, why is the meagre age of twelve years old so significant? Shouldn’t you, say, come of age at one hundred or something?”

Elly grinned. To her surprise, she was rather enjoying all these questions.

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