Keeper of the Lost Secrets

CHAPTER FIVE: A Conversation Scares the Shadows out of Me

I stood for a second, staring at Sophie as she scurried away. Being the good elf-on-assignment I am, I made sure she didn't run into traffic and use telekinesis to lift a lamppost. I sighed. I knew that the world would become confusing with Sophie in it, but I hadn't expected... that.

I held up the pathfinder to the moonlight and gather my concentration to leap. The light passing through me was cool, like the night, it's small glow a reminder that even the darkest night, no one can snuff out the lights.

I glittered in front of a huge gate, as silver as the rings and jewellery I'd seen people adorn in the Lost Cities, except it was at least fifty times the size. It surrounded the estate completely, no one could see in. I held up my hand to shield my eyes. I lick the DNA strip next to the gate and the giant silver doors move open slowly, completely silently, in front of me. I kept my mouth shut as I walked in.

Everglen was everything a human would define as magical. A meadow-sized garden held a beautiful manor in the centre. It was a pale shade of yellow, and the crystals reflected the light off the walls, the beams bouncing all over the place. It had towers that went on for floors and floors, balconies with twists and turns made of other precious metals. Flowers and plants of all kinds grew, the rarest beauty given a chance to bask in the light of the sun. I smiled. To any human, this would be a dream, but for me, this was my reality.

My home.

I stalked inside, two massive doors opening up, revealing a hallway lined with fountains spouting water in all the colours of the rainbow, over my head, yet not a single drop fell on me. I sauntered to the end of the hallways and was met with a door, double my size, encrusted with mosaic of precious stones – diamond unicorns prancing around an amethyst field. I pushed the door open gently, and walked into the room, ignoring the pitter-patter of my feet on the marble. Glass walls were draped in long, silky curtains, covering the entirety of the view. A chandelier hung above me, the diamonds and crystals like a rain shower that never hit the ground; forever destined to falling.

A large round table of sandalwood sat right in the middle, taking up a fifth of the massive room. Throne-like chairs surrounded it, and the scene looked like it was ready for a human ritual. I sighed and plopped down on one of the chairs, the soft cushions of silk offering comfort to me.

I sighed and grabbed a book from my pant pocket (How we created pockets to fit a whole novel inside them in beyond me, but I am sure not complaining). I ran my fingers on the smooth, slightly bent surface of the cover.

I smiled. Admittedly, elves never had any fictional pieces. No fantasy, sci-fi, romance stories. Only textbooks, biographies, and notebooks. So, stumbling upon the human realm, I found the best part to be immersing myself in world not my own.

Just as I was about to flip the page, I heard someone clear their throat behind my chair. Me, being the dignified Vacker elf I am, proceeded to shriek and drop my book, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent room.

"Hello, Fitz." The voice spoke with the same accent as mine, except more prominent. Each word was as clear and crisp as I imagined the speaker's suit to be.

"Hello, dad." I smiled at him, picking up my book and straightening up. He offered me a small smile, silently making his way next to me, dragging out the chair and positioning himself in it. He looked at me, reeking of royal air and Mallowmelt (probably the ones I made earlier, that I had, to no surprise found missing).

"Any updates on our girl?" He looked down at my hands which were pulling at my sleeves repeatedly.

"Actually," I forced my hands into my lap. "I think... I know I found her."

Alden Vacker's eyes went wide, teal rimmed with white. His set of perfect, white teeth made an appearance as his mouth opened wide in shock, but only for a mere second. Soon enough, his excitement had faded, and was replaced with the stoic man in front of me.

"Before we get too excited," he paused. "Are you sure she is the girl?"

I nodded. "Positive. She was in a museum, and I found her from reading a newspaper article – she was the front cover. We talked for a bit-"

He heaved out a cough. "Fitz, what exactly did I tell you about talking to our mystery girl?"

I looked down at my lap. "To not talk to her, and that's it's too dangerous."

"No, no," He tilted his head up, and somehow, basking in the light of the room, shadows settled in his features. "What exactly did I say to you?"

I gulped. "'Fitz, do not talk to our mystery girl. She is to be checked and inspected for any secrets before anything.'" The memory was from a few years ago, but it played, fresh in my mind.

My father sighed and clicked his tongue. "You said it yourself, son, you were not to talk to her."

"I know, but," I resisted the urge to start screaming. I was sweaty and my eyes met the floor. "I had to – she was the same girl I'd scouted a few years ago - with the brown eyes."

He raised his eyebrow. "Sophie Elizabeth Foster?"

I nod. "Her. I talked to her, and as I was about to leave, I realised she could read thoughts. I told her I could read thoughts too, and she freaked out and ran away. She then used telekinesis to lift a human streetlamp." My arms instinctively flailed around me as I talked. "Then I..." My cheeks turned pink. I wasn't looking forward to telling him of my decisions. I didn't think they were the smartest, but I certainly didn't regret them.

"Continue," He stared me down. "Or are there other liberties you took that I should be aware of?"

I hesitated. "I... brought her here." I waited for my father to start reprimanding me, talking down to me, but he did worse. He stayed silent.

He rested his elbow on the take, and head in his palm. His lips pursed together, and I could have sworn he went three shades paler than a moment ago.

"And why in all of the cities would you do that, Fitz?" He asked me, but his tone invited no answer.

I looked down at my feet. Whatever I had to say was useless when he was upset. I might've had the best, most feasible excuse in the world, but nothing would change his mind.

"And what exactly did you do here, Fitz?" His tone was more mocking this time. He was the only one who could make me hate my name, simply because of how he said it.

"I took her around. Luminara, Eternalia, only, really. We stayed in the shadows.?"

"Unless you are slave to the Shadow Arts," I shivered as he spoke. Shadow Arts was a term I had heard only few people utter. It was a demeaning way of referring to shades. I had never said the words myself, though I'm ashamed to admit it was the first name for shades that popped into my mind. "You cannot hide in the shadows. I will decide on your giving later."

I shuddered. My 'Giving' was my consequence, my sack of rocks for the action of dumping potatoes on his scale. Sometimes, though, the scale always seemed to tip in his favour. I decided not to dwell on the thought.

I nodded and mumbled an apology, exiting the room. I would think on Sophie, my father, and all those daunting things later. According to Elwin, "Mallowmelt cures a bad mood. And some minor infections." So off to the kitchen I went.