Chapter Two
Elsewhere
"What in The Blazes are you doing up here?" Her voice, shrill with excitement, echoed through the stone passageways.
She clambered up the central stairway. It twisted in a spiral several hundred feet to a room above. As she neared the gilded door at the top, a thick green smoke obstructed her vision.
"I think perhaps," her brother called back from the other side of the door, "something may have gone wrong."
She pulled the satin of her gown-like robes over her mouth and nose, but it did little to filter out the noxious smoke. Eyes beginning to weep and burn, she fumbled blindly at the door.
"Have you at least unshuttered the windows," she managed to yell between choking gasps of air.
"Oh, well no," he called back without a hint of distress. "I hadn't thought of it. Just finishing up some notes here. Very important to document these things without delay. Details are lost with the passage time, as you know." He rambled on.
Finally finding the handle, she pushed through the door and found the strange green smoke to be much thicker inside the room. She could barely see the light at her brothers desk. Usually illuminating the study like a clear day outside at noon, the thick green smoke choked it all but out.
The smokey mist swirled and writhed as if with a life of its own. She was reminded of a time in her youth when she found an octopus in a tidepool. The squirming tenticles mezmerized her then, just as the mysterious smoke mezmerized her now.
Staggering blindly into the study, with outstretched arms searching, she made her way to the closest shuttered window.
"Confound it," she yelped after stubbing her toe on some unseen crate.
"I'll be with you in a moment, dear sister." He continued working his quill on some parchment.
The shutters banged open, giving little relief to the thickness of the air. She dug her fingers into one of the pouches dangling from her belt. After retrieving a few small seeds, she tossed them at the center of the study and fanned her arms in dramatic circles.
"Meerna venitulas," she whispered. The magic wove it's way into the room. Continuing to fan her arms, the air began to move. She directed it into a wind that circled around and around.
Finally, as the wind grew in intensity, she thrust her arms out the unshuttered opening. The wind howled past her out the window, carrying with it the strange smokey mist.
Many pieces of paper and plenty of light objects followed the mist outside, where they drifted to the ground far below. The mist whipped and thrashed upwards into the sky without dissipating.
"Now what was it you needed," he calmy asked as he set down his quill.
She looked to her brother in a huff of shocked annoyance with hands on her hips. Slowly her stern gaze melted into an amused smile.
"Oh dear," he said. He looked about the disarray of the study, which he diligently kept very organized. "What a mess you've made."
She began to giggle and quickly burst into outright laughter. Unable to contain herself, she stared at him with quizzical amusement and laughed harder.
"I fail to see humor in this," he stammered. He fidgeted with the papers that remained on his desk.
She walked past him, still giggling, and searched the shelf on the far side of the study. After finding what she was looking for, she turned to face her brother. Upon looking at him again, the laughter returned.
"Now I insist you explain what is so enormously funny," he said.
"Here," she finally responded between giggles. "Just take a look."
Holding out the small hand mirror she had retrieved from the shelf, she waited for his reaction.
His eyes narrowed searchingly as if he didn't recognize the image being reflected. He dragged a hand down his cheek. Astonishment and perplexity filled his expression. He quickly pulled his hand from his face to look at it directly with a frightened gasp.
"What's this," he said with a bit of fear. "What? What...," was all he could manage to utter.
The laughter returned as her brother snatched the mirror from her hand. He frantically moved it about, examining every possible angle.
His hair stood on end, blown backwards and singed at the ends. That wasn't what concerned him. It was his skin. It had turned a rather boogery green. From the pointed tips of his elven ears to the end of his narrow nose, his once fair skin had turned to a horrible shade of green.
Hardly one to be shaken, he forced himself to composure. "This must be documented." He grabbed his quill and hastily dipped it into an inkwell.
A loud obnoxious clanging sound erupted outside.
"Someone approaches from the east," she said. The laughter and amusement quickly vanished. She strode purposefully back to the window and peered out.
Some papers still fluttered down the side of their tower. A clutter of debris splayed out into the patchy grass below. She could see the dust of a rider rising between the trees. It moved closer with an alarming pace.
"Eralee! Montral!" A voice boomed from the approaching rider. "Come quickly! I need your help! Something terrible has happened! Eralee! Montral!"
"To your feet," she turned to her brother.
"One moment," he replied. "Just about finished."
"Now," she commanded and swiped the quill from his hand. "Gorn approaches from the east in distress."