Elizabeth was about to respond to Olorin hasty apology when the old man disappeared down the corridor, his stomping feet making an agitated melody on the wooden floor.
"Just when I thought things were going our way," Elizabeth sighed and strode over to where her dress laid neatly folded on a small table, unlike Eleanor's own which was haphazardly thrown over a chair.
"Look at it this way," Eleanor slipped on her dress, "at least we got a bath, a belly full of food and a nice long sleep out of it."
"I guess so," Elizabeth finished up the final detail on her dress. "You need a hand?"
"No, I got this," Eleanor tied up the laces and stretched lazily, her joints giving a satisfying pop.
"You know, despite the rather rude wake up call," Eleanor continued, shaking off the last of her sleep. "I'm actually feeling pretty good."
"I know, right?" Elizabeth agreed but quickly became solemn. "Still, I rather wake up to a nice hot cup of coffee instead of an army."
"There's an army outside?!" Eleanor yelled in surprise.
"From what I heard, yeah."
Eleanor darted to the window and poked her head outside. The yard, garden and surrounding forest were eerie peaceful, no hint of any visible disturbance. Edging back into the room Eleanor concentrated, feeling the replenished ADAM coursed through her veins as she ignited the Incinerate plasmid, bright flame engulfing her hand.
"How are you feeling?" Elizabeth asked.
"Spoiling for a fight," Eleanor flicked her wrist, extinguishing the chemical fire.
"I hope it doesn't come to that."
"Me too. But no harm in being ready."
Locking eyes with Elizabeth, Eleanor gave her a sharp nod before striding into the corridor with the brunette at her side, backs straightened and chin held high, looking proud with a tiny hint of arrogance. They found Olorin waiting for them around a corner, and Eleanor almost tripped over her own feet when she saw the gleaming longsword that had hung on the wall yesterday now strapped across the old man's hip.
"Here, put these on," so dumbfounded by the sight of the armed old man, Eleanor didn't see the pair of traveling boots until it was almost pressed against her nose.
"Thanks," Eleanor kicked off her slippers and quickly put the boots on, a little tight around the ankle but nothing too noticeable.
"What's happening Mr. Olorin?" Elizabeth asked.
"Trouble," Olorin said simply and lead them out to the front yard.
There was indeed an army waiting for them. Lines of infantry stood in pristine ranks, superbly intricate kite shields and leaf blade spears held tight to their chest in a parade stance, unmoving like statue. They all wore green armor of overlapping plate trimmed in gold and conical helm of the same color, polished to a mirror shine, the sun dancing off the metal. Long golden locks of various shade, from brilliant yellow to an almost silvery sheen, cascaded down their shoulders. Standing beside the foot soldiers were horsemen astride powerful looking steed, beautiful bow of snow white wood strapped across their backs, quivers full of red fletching arrows hung from their hips and curve swords dangled from their saddle.
So used to the motley crew that was Rapture and Columbia 'army', Eleanor couldn't help but be intimidated by these serious looking lot.
Flexing her fingers, Eleanor willed the plasmid to the center of her palms, feeling the hot chemical dancing beneath the skin, excited and eager for release.
She took in the forces arrayed against her, a dozen riders and doubled that number of infantry. Eleanor narrowed her eyes. The odds were not looking good for her.
One of the riders, his helmet tide to the pommel of his saddle, approached them then, so unbelievably handsome that Eleanor and Elizabeth couldn't help but gawk.
"I thank you for understanding Mithrandir," regret weigh heavy in his melodious voice.
"Understanding can hardly be prescribed when one is coerced, Glorfindel," Olorin snapped and leapt up Shadowfax, his movement swift and graceful. "If they are to be taken before the Council, then you can be sure that I shall be there with them."
The blonde, Glorfindel, looked about ready to retort but instead settled for a tired sigh and a quick nod.
"Very well," he waved crisply toward the rank of soldiers. They parted files with such sudden uniformity that Eleanor and Elizabeth jumped with a squeak, creating an avenue for them toward the cart, being pulled by a more fitting brown roan this time.
Her posture firm and unbent, Eleanor kept her chin high as she and Elizabeth strode on to the cart and seated themselves down, doing their best to ignore the hard unblinking regards of the soldiers and horsemen.
"I'm sure this is just another misunderstanding," Elizabeth dusted her skirt as the cart began trudging forward, columns of spearmen and riders moving up to flank them, the stomping of boots and hooves drumming a synchronized tempo.
"That seems to be happening a lot," Eleanor grumbled and turned to Glorfindel, the man having ridden up beside them. "What's wrong with your ears?"
He gave her an annoyed sideway glance.
"I am an Eldar of the Noldor kindred," he began after a moment.
"Okay…" Eleanor didn't have a clue what he'd just said but pressed on regardless, "so I'm guessing you're not human?"
"How observant," the haughtiness in his tone was unbelievably condescending.
"What are you then?" Eleanor continued.
"The common term you are looking for is elf," Olorin cut in. "First born of Ilúvatar, the fairness and noblest of all his children. That is until recently, when their temperament seems to rival the dwarves in stubbornness and pigheadedness."
Glorfindel shot Olorin a hard look, his jaw tightening as if to speak but instead kept silent.
"Elf, good to know," Eleanor nodded then lean toward Elizabeth, her voice lowered, "are these elves the good guys or the bad guys? Because that one is seriously giving me the evil eyes."
"I haven't read that far yet," Elizabeth gave a sheepish grin, "but I remember one of the main character speaking highly of them. Saying how he wished to visit them again and finish his book. Honestly, I would've thought they would be, I don't know, a little more welcoming?"
"Shame, they're all such a looker."
"I know, it's like an army of movie stars and swimsuit models."
Both Eleanor and Elizabeth gave a dreamy, but somewhat disappointed sigh as they turned to openly gape at Glorfindel, admiring the contour of his strong cheekbones and jaws, his piercing eyes, his long flowing hair and his regal stature.
"It is very impolite to stare," Glorfindel said coldly when their gawking went beyond the point of being polite.
"Sorry," Eleanor blushed and shifted her attention to their surroundings. Evergreen forest, rising like pillars of some great ancient wonder, flanked the unremarkable dirt road, roof of gleaming emerald canopy shading the suns golden ray, cool shadow dancing over them.
"Whoa," Eleanor said breathlessly, marveling at the unspoiled manifestation of nature that rose like monuments around them. "I can't believe we slept through this."
"I know," Elizabeth agreed. "But at least we get to see it now."
"Yeah, everything looked so…perfect."
After some time, the forest open up onto the meadow where she and Elizabeth had arrived from the destroyed Tokyo, tents in significant numbers now dotted the green field. Elves in plain clothing, extravagant robes and armor darted about, some carrying crates and some were writing into large ledgers, their noses buried in the thick grimoire. They were all huddled beside the road, more specifically, where the Tear had appeared.
"They know," Elizabeth scooted closer to Eleanor, her words hushed with disbelief.
"But how?" Eleanor eyed the elves as their cart rolled passed, none paid them any heed.
"I haven't a clue," Elizabeth gulped loudly and found Glorfindel giving her a level, steely stare. He was about to speak when a loud, and quite obviously intentional, series of cough arrested Olorin, so annoyingly boisterous that it drew the elf's attention away from them. After a few splutters, the choking subsided as the old man began humming, a deep, harmonious and strangely reverent sound not that dissimilar to a religious hymn. Soon, Olorin began weaving words into the tune, his low timbre powerful and mesmerizing.
"The world was young, the mountain green. No stain yet on the moon was seen. No words were laid on stream or stone, when Durin woke and walked alone."
At the utterance of the first verse the elves spun sharply on Olorin, most stared at him with abject shock while some glared with open hostility.
Eleanor couldn't understand what was making them so grouchy, the song was one the most beautiful thing she had ever heard.
And the lyrics…my God the lyrics. It was haunting, somber in some part and grand in other, yet stunning all the same, made more rich by Olorin baritone. It spoke of past glory, of desolation and ruin, and hope in time of greatest despair.
When the final verse came, Eleanor found herself crying:
"The Shadow lies upon his tomb, in Moria, in Khazad-dum. But still the sunken stars appear, in dark and windless Mirrormere. There lies his crown in water deep, till Durin wakes again from sleep."
Wiping tears from her eyes Eleanor began clapping, Elizabeth joining with equal gusto, both moved by Olorin's song. The old man gave them a grinning bow, chuckling softly at their appreciation for his virtuosity. All the while, Glorfindel seethed in silence, seemingly offended by the prose and rhyme.
"It is good to see that there are some who still appreciate my voice," Olorin innocent utterance seems to harbor a deeper, more biting undertone directed at his elven audience.
"Your words will always be of great worth to us, Mithrandir," Glorfindel said politely. "Regardless of its merit."
"Guess you didn't like the song then," Eleanor spoke up, and was surprised when Glorfindel respond.
"Not that I dislike it, young lady, I just found it to be in poor taste."
"…Sure."
They soon entered another forested path, the soft wind and blanketing shadow providing a nice relief from the summery sun. After what seemed like hours, the woodlands gave way to an empty plain and Eleanor felt her breath robbed away again.
A city loomed before her, more beautiful and majestic than anything she had ever seen in her life.
Enclosed by shining white wall was a metropolis that stretches from horizon to horizon, intricate towers in flowing, floral like design pierced the sky in thriving magnitude, rivaling modern cityscape like New York in its urban grandeur and size.
"Whoa…" Eleanor mumbled as they neared the gigantic gate of thick timber inlaid with gold, the surface carved into a vivid likeness of two beautiful women, one for each partition. The entrance opened with a minute squeak, swinging apart quickly despite its size.
The thoroughfare inside was bustling with people, Eleanor could barely see the smooth cobble street beneath the crowd of elves going about their daily routines; shopping, trading, talking or just simply hanging out. The traffic quickly parted for them, hawkers and peddlers bolting out of their way with a bow, pedestrians leapt up to stand on the foot path, head held low in reverence, while mothers carried playing children off the street.
But the hubbub of the crowd didn't die down, if anything, the volume only seems to increase when they spotted Eleanor and Elizabeth. Children and some adults stared openly, excited fingers pointed their way, while other appeared more reserved in their observation.
As they rode deeper into the city Eleanor noticed how close to perfection, in term of a functional society, these elves had come. The streets were spotless, the people courteous and calm and not a hint of poverty could be seen. She had expected a medieval society to look a lot more dirty and unwashed, but no, these elves carried themselves with grace regardless of whether they were garbed in a flowing silken dress or a simple working tunic. Even the smallest house looked better than any apartment back home.
"Now I really want to read that book," Eleanor spoke up, "if only to learn more about these people."
"Sure," Elizabeth grinned, "but after I'm done with it."
"Don't take too long."
"Trust me, I won't."
It wasn't long before the road widened on to a grand avenue, leading to a magnificent domed palace that put the greatest of mankind architectural achievement to shame. Great white pillars carved in brilliant pattern of leaves and vines supported the awning, curved roof and lintel fashioned into a mesmerizing wavy pattern, the carpentry and masonry seamless as if carved from a single piece, the bright dome above gleaming like the brightest of pearl.
"This is unbelievable," Eleanor said as she step down from the cart, such a tiny unworthy thing cowering under the shadow of the elven palace, and strode toward an immaculately carved entrance the size of a two-story house.
"This place make Columbia looks like some cheap, childish imitation," Elizabeth came to stand beside her, equally enraptured.
"Guards!" Glorfindel shouted suddenly, jolting Eleanor from her ravine. The soldiers that had accompanied them quickly formed up behind her and Elizabeth, wall of kite shields facing them, while the palace guard in equal number left their post and stalked toward the two, shinning glaives lowered.
"Take them to the dungeon," Glorfindel commanded and the ring of soldiers tightened their noose, creeping closer with trained, martial steps.
"Oh no, you don't!" Back to back with Elizabeth, Eleanor willed Incinerate and Winter Blast to life, fire and ice engulfing her hands as she held it out toward the startled elves, grinning at their reaction. Nearby, Tears began sprouting around the soliders, small and medium in size, shimmering ready at Elizabeth command.
"Enough of this foolishness!" Olorin bulled his way through the encirclement to stand with them and slammed the butt of his staff on the ground, sending an impossibly loud rumble rippling across the flagstone. He shot Eleanor a hard look, the message clearer than any spoken words. Reluctantly, Eleanor powered down her plasmids, opting instead to glare at the elves.
"They will accompany me to the Council," there was an undeniable finality to Olorin announcement, even some of the elves were becoming more hesitant, casting each other wary glances.
Glorfindel locked eyes with Olorin then, the elf's gauntleted hand gripping tight the pommel of his sheathed curved sword. After what seemed like hours, Glorfindel relented to the immovable Olorin, his hand falling to the side with a heavy sigh.
"You brought this upon yourself Mithrandir," his shoulders slump as he waved to his men, "let them through."
As one, the soldiers and guards hoisted up their weapons, the sharpened points aiming skyward, shields braced to their chest and opened a path for the three. With a less than pleasant grumble, Olorin marched purposefully toward the open entrance, Eleanor and Elizabeth hurrying to catch up.
"Good luck," Glorfindel said before the gate slammed shut behind them.
"We must not tarry," Olorin voice was hard as he quickened his steps, "lady Galadriel is not a patient woman. Come along, quickly."
Eleanor wanted to appreciate more of the grand pillared hall, but everything quickly became a blur as she and Elizabeth fought to keep up with Olorin. Soon the hall turned into a wide corridor that twisted and turned like a labyrinth, and by the time Olorin came to a stop before a tall, ornate door, Eleanor and Elizabeth were panting for breath.
Olorin was reaching up his hand to knock the gilded frame when a loud argument froze him mid motion.
"I will not hear any more of this," a woman voice boomed from beyond the closed door, divine in feminine timbre but carrying an undeniable authority that cut like the sharpest blade.
"Lady Galadriel…" a male voice tried to appease her.
"I will not spare a single heartbeat more to this nonsense," the woman, probably this lady Galadriel, swiftly silenced him.
"Oh dear…" Olorin looked trouble, a momentarily hesitation flashed across his face before he tempered it with a look of absolute determination as he slowly, and quietly, eased the door open.
"Be very quiet," he slipped into the room and waved for them to follow, "keep your head low in respect and speak only when you are spoken too, is that understood?"
Eleanor and Elizabeth nodded briskly as they entered a spacious conference room dominated by a large circular table that appeared to have been carve from pale granite, polished to a white sheen.
"I understand your desire to maintain the façade of unity and the indubitable conviction of your people against our adversary," the male voice continued, and although lacking the elves melodic resonance, his baritone sounded deep and powerful enough to bring armies to their knee. "But I beseech you to see reason. It is clear now that the agent of Melkor and Sauron had firmly planted its enterprise deep within the populace of Valmar. To ignore this truth would be to submit ourselves to the whim of our enemies and unbarred our gates for them to stride in unopposed."
There were two people standing at the table, an elven woman and…Eleanor haven't a clue as to what exactly the man was. Although he took the form of a tall, broad shouldered male, he was most obviously not human, the most startling disparity being his bright silver hair and literal black skin, as if he was carved out from a piece of deepest night itself.
While the elf woman he was addressing, well, beautiful would be an absolute understatement. Her beauty was out worldly, divine and ethereal. The sharp contour of her face, the firmness of her rosy lips, the striking gaze, the flowing locks that cascaded down her back like spun gold, everything about her was perfect.
And Eleanor was jealous.
Sure, there was no denying how pretty she was, but to be sharing a room with someone like her causes Eleanor to be very self-conscious of her own rather humble appearance. Now she knows how the ugly duckling felt. It wasn't long before such feeling of inadequacy morphed into spite. Yes, the lady Galadriel was beautiful, but that doesn't mean she have to like the woman.
Beside her Elizabeth appeared more in control, but the pursed lips and puffed cheek told Eleanor that the brunette was barely keeping her own envy in check.
"Have you so little faith in the elven kind, lord Rake?" Galadriel questioned the man, her tone suggesting offense.
"You misunderstood, lady Galadriel," lord Rake held up his hand in supplication, "I do not doubt the mettle of your people, I merely offer insight. I have lived through calamity that end worlds, see tyrants rise and fall, and have seen the most virtuous of men succumbed to seduction and corruption. Time rots everything, even the brightest of jewels."
Galadriel seemed far from placated with Rake statement however, "we will never submit to the temptation of the Dark Ones, Anomander. The light of the Valar shines bright within the heart of all elves. To suggest otherwise is to reveal ignorance of the most unfathomable magnitude. After all these times with us and you have learned nothing."
"My point still stand, Galadriel," Rake countered sharply. "The time of inaction has long passed. Continue to ignore what so blatantly stood before you then a dawn will come where you shall wake and found yourself amongst the ruin of what you hold most dear."
The breathless tension between Rake and Galadriel was a permeable, suffocating thing, like watching two storm moments away from colliding. Even this far from the epicenter, Eleanor wanted nothing more than to vacate the premise and hide.
Their standoff lasted for what seemed like hours before Galadriel finally broke the silence, and Eleanor found herself able to breathe again.
"If you must pursue this path," Galadriel began icily, "then do so with discretion. Keep the visibility of your undertaking to the barest minimum, it would be better not to let the public know and prevent any hysteria that could arise."
"It shall be so," Rake bowed politely. "I thank you for your understanding."
The smile she flashed him was barbed, as if the harmless words he parted carries an insult and she responded with an unspoken admonition. Eleanor observation came to an end when Galadriel turned her head in their direction, eyes widening when she spotted them.
"Why are they here?" her voice was like rasping blade as she looked at Olorin. "They are not supposed to be here."
"Lady Galadriel please allow me to explain…" Olorin began but Galadriel silenced him with a harsh wave of her hand and glided around the table toward them.
"I ordered them placed under arrest," Galadriel came to stand before Olorin, and Eleanor could see that she was a bit taller than the old man. "You've been rather obstinate as of late, but I never expect you to be so bold as to bring these fugitives before my presence."
"My lady…"
"Do you wish to walk them to the cell? Or must I summon the guards and have them dragged away in chains?"
"Hey! What did we ever do to you?!" Eleanor was unable to keep her peace any longer. "We didn't do anything wrong!"
"Every time the sanctity of our realm is breached," the cold look Galadriel gave her made Sofia belittling regards feels warm by comparison, "the wider the Door of Night grew. Out world interlopers are rare but every time they appear, more of our people suffered. Like that insufferable Hoid and the white-haired blade maiden from before, their coming opened new avenues for servants of darkness to pour into Valinor; I will not allow such transgression to go unpunished."
"But that's not fair!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "We never meant to hurt anyone, how can you fault us for a crime that we've no idea we were committing?!"
"Ignorance will not exempt you from judgement," Galadriel raised her hand as if to summon the guard when Anomander step forward before she could utter her command.
"Wait good lady, such action would not be necessary."
"And why is that, my lord?"
"Because I know one of them," Anomander came to stand before Elizabeth and, to the surprise of Eleanor, gave her a polite bow. "Elizabeth, if I recalled?"
Elizabeth breath hitched as her eyes bulged to a gleaming saucer, mouth moving soundlessly before she managed to croak, "yes…I'm Elizabeth."
"Wait, you know him?!" Eleanor spun to face Elizabeth.
"Um…no?" The brunette banished her stupor with a furious shake of her head. "I mean no! I never seen him before in my life."
"Maybe you met him when your omniscient was still intact or in one of those astral projected dreams?"
"I think I would've remember someone who looked like that!" Elizabeth gave Anomander an apologetic look. "No offense my lord."
"None taken. And I apologize for being so presumptive," the silver haired man gave a petite smile. "I am Anomander Rake, and I was present when the Master carried your lifeless body into his domain to be preserved. Him, myself and a pair of red haired twin formulate the plan to restore your life and power. I must say, it is good to see you breathing and alive, and judging from our current predicament, your power has indeed returned to its rightful vessel."
"And what would that power be?" Galadriel demanded, her piercing eyes shone like the sun.
"I think it would be better if Elizabeth herself explain," Rake said.
"Here we go again," Eleanor smirked and rolled her eyes, "all yours."
And once again they explained everything, their powers and the trouble hounding them. Sure, it was getting repetitious at this point, but what can they do? At least this way they can persuade the elves to help instead of throwing them in jail. Eleanor had expected the reception to be similar to Verl and Olorin, one of silent understanding that quickly became an offer to help, which was why she was startled to see Galadriel feature darkened, as if Elizabeth honest admission was some kind of confession.
"You have no mastery over your power," Galadriel said sharply.
"Yes I do!" Elizabeth shot back indignantly.
"You just admitted yourself that your arrival here was made by pure accident," Galadriel pressed on, "such power in untrained hands can bring destruction upon all like a rouge tempest. This is a risk I am not willing to take." She shot Olorin a look. "Take them to the cells below, or I will be force to subdue them."
"You cannot do this!" Olorin retaliated. "Contact the Master, they are under his protection and he is seeking them."
"The Master will be made aware, but in the mean time I will not allow them to roam free."
"Is such savagery necessary? When have we forsaken those who come to us seeking aid? Instead, we now offers them the chain when we should be offering help. Have we truly strayed that far from the light of mercy and kindness?"
"As lord Rake had so eloquently put it, these are dark times Mithrandir. The light that was so clear before are now murky and gray, nothing is as it should be anymore. We've lost so much, and I do not intent to allow more to perish. Make your choice now Gandalf, I've grown weary enough this morning."
"Umm…excuse me?" Eleanor piped up and, ignoring the collective gasp of the room's occupants, strode closer to Galadriel. "But I don't think throwing us in jail would be a really good idea."
"I will not continue this conversation," Galadriel began.
"I know, I know, but just hear me out, okay?" Eleanor pressed on heedlessly, throwing caution to the wind. "You don't need to say anything, just listen, alright?"
If Galadriel was irked by her bluntness she didn't show, the minute agitation that surfaced was instead directed at Rake, who snickered softly at the audacious display.
"Look," Eleanor continued quickly before Galadriel can speak. "I understand you are concerned about your people, good leaders are like that, and you have every right to be. It's only natural that you would want to contain any perceive threat that could potentially harm your lovely city. But ask yourself this, is it smart to try and contain something that you can't hope to understand or control?"
Galadriel gaze narrowed dangerously as she said, "go on."
"You're right you know? We totally have no control over our power."
"Hey!" Elizabeth protest but Eleanor ignored her.
"Now, a good scientist always keeps an eye on dangerous variable instead of isolating it to a petri dish, which would allow the anomaly to grow and change without observation. You might have an inkling of what we're capable of, but you have no idea how any of it actually works. For instance, do you see that Tear over there?" Eleanor pointed at a medium size Tear shimmering weakly behind Galadriel. "What Elizabeth neglect to tell you is that both our powers are driven mainly by emotion, strong one at that. And when we find ourselves in perilous situation, our fear and anger amplified our powers by a significant proportion. Imagine what she can pull through that Tear if she became stress after someone, say, put us behind bars."
It was all a lie, the lack of control and how their power were fueled by emotion. Sure, a little spurt of passion can have a boosting effect on how the plasmid and Tear behave, but it's nowhere near as powerful as she was exaggerating now. But Galadriel doesn't know that.
"Is that a shoggoth lurking behind that Tear Eleanor?" Elizabeth quickly picked up on the act, coming to stand smugly beside Eleanor. "Nasty little critters. Now, I don't want them to crawl through and muck this beautiful place up, but I'm feeling a little stressed right now. Oh Eleanor, you remember how bad things get when I become moody."
"Oh yeah, an entire house almost burned down!" Eleanor made a show of spreading out both of her arms, while at the same time allowing a sprinkling sheen of Winter Blast to escape her palm, painting the nearby pillar frosty white.
"Oops!" Eleanor feigned innocent. "I didn't mean to do that, I was just so nervous."
"You did that on purpose," Galadriel said levelly, looking rather unimpressed by the display.
"Trust me lady, if I did something like that on purpose," Eleanor tried to appear confident, but Galadriel rather unreceptive demeanor was putting her on edge, "this entire place would be in flame by now. And things does get pretty bad when I'm angry, just so you know."
"Let's say that I chose to believe this tripe, what then?"
Okay, Eleanor admit she wasn't expecting that. Galadriel obviously saw through her bluff, but at least she wasn't losing her temper and calling the guards, maybe she really was contemplating the alternative?
"Well…" Eleanor tapped her chin, trying to play it cool. "Since you're so worried about us, why don't we just stay close to you? Just to put your mind at ease and show you that we're not a threat? And if something were to happen then you can react promptly."
"The idea has merits," Olorin cocked his head thoughtfully to the side.
"Elizabeth's friend is right," Rake gave his input. "With the three of us, any unexpected convergence of power can surely be contain."
"Yeah, all three of you can surely handle two little us," Eleanor nodded as Galadriel gazed lowered to the polished floor, giving the proposal a deep contemplation.
"You're really good," Elizabeth whispered beside her.
"I try my best," Eleanor gave her a haughty smile when Galadriel looked up, eyeing them with such unkind intensity that for a moment she thought the elf woman was about to turn everything ugly. Imagine her relief when Galadriel gave a relented sigh and said, "the two of you will not leave my sight until the Master arrive."
"So…we're not going to jail?" Eleanor hazarded the question.
"That option is still open," there was a hint of sly humor in Galadriel tone, a nice change of pace from the rock hard authoritative demeanor she was putting up so far.
"Nope, this is way better than some dank jail cell," Eleanor smiled.
"You have strange way of speaking…" Galadriel words trailed off when the entrance swung open with hastened force and a two palace guards rushed into the chamber with barely restrained fright.
"What is it?" Galadriel eyes hardened on the panting pair.
"My lady," one began after he had gathered his breath, "a hostile force had besieged our walls."
"That is not possible," Galadriel bolted for the door as Eleanor and Elizabeth rushed to keep up, Rake and Olorin on the other hand had no trouble falling into stride beside her.
"How did a band of orcs managed to come this close to our walls without any of the outer sentries sending a warning in advance?" Galadriel voice echoed down the hall.
"They're not orcs milady, they're human."
"What?!" Galadriel stopped and spun sharply to face the two human women. Elizabeth scooted behind Eleanor as Galadriel glared at them with such burning consternation that she thought the elf woman was about to strangle her like a frightened rabbit.
"It's unlike anything we have ever seen before, lady Galadriel," the guard continued, "they arrived just moments ago on these flying ships."
"Flying ships?" Galadriel gave the guard a quizzical look.
"Oh crap," Eleanor knew she should be afraid now that Columbia had once again followed them to another universe. Instead, she felt nothing but grating anger. How the hell did they managed to track them everywhere? Why can't they just leave them alone? When is she and Elizabeth going to get a goddamn break?!
"How many of these flying ships are there?" They stepped out onto the flagstone courtyard as an elf boy hurriedly brought Galadriel steed over, along with a much larger black stallion that she could only assumed belong to Rake.
"A few dozen, my lady," the guard continued.
"Where is Elrond and Thranduil?"
"They're mustering the garrison and heading for the western gate as we speak."
"What of my husband?"
"He's overseeing the evacuation in the western section of the city."
"I shall go and assist Celeborn," Olorin whistled and Shadowfax cantered into view.
"And I will be by your side," Rake rode up to Galadriel as she climbed up her steed, riding side saddle. She gave him a thanking nod and was about to kick her horse into motion when Elizabeth yelled.
"Wait! We know who's attacking, we can help."
"Get them a horse," Galadriel was waving at the servants when Olorin guided Shadowfax toward them.
"Time is of the essence, quickly, hop on," with some difficulty, and a less than a gentle nudge from Olorin, Eleanor managed to scamper on to the saddle, Elizabeth climbing up behind her a moment later with equal exertion, their wide skirt accommodating them easily into an astride position.
Then a thought occurred to Eleanor. She didn't know how to ride a horse. In fact, this is the closest she had ever been to a terrestrial animal since surfacing from Rapture. Birds, small critters and insect doesn't count.
"Wait…" Eleanor spoke up when Galadriel and Rake kicked their horse into a canter. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Go Shadowfax!" Olorin bellowed and the horse bolted into motion, going from a canter to a full gallop in a span of a second.
"Ahhh!" Eleanor could only scream as she held on to the rein for dear life, her torso leaning forward until it was almost lying flat on Shadowfax powerful neck, the task made more difficult by Elizabeth arms around her waist, the tight constriction throwing her off balance, sending her bouncing dangerously on the saddle, while the brunette uninterrupted shrieking almost made her deaf.
Eyes scrunched shut, Eleanor surrendered all control to Shadowfax as he bounded down the road, not really caring where the horse was taking them.
Only when the rapid lurching motion came to a stop that Eleanor finally opened her eyes and rose shakily to an upright position. Heaving deep breaths and wiping sheen of sweat from her face, Eleanor saw that Shadowfax had taken them to the base of the city wall, soldiers and sentries milled around them in a quick, but orderly, fashion, while above archers lined the parapet in tight ranks, standing at attention. Not far from where Shadowfax had stopped stood Galadriel and Rake mounts, being tended by stable boys.
Eleanor gave Shadowfax a pat on his neck, the majestic white steed neighing pleasantly at the compliment.
"Good horsey," Eleanor panted and was about to swing her leg over the seat when she noticed that Elizabeth's arms were still wrapped around her waist, the brunette face buried deep into her back.
"Elizabeth, let go," Eleanor reached down and began prying the interlocking fingers, "we're here."
"Huh?" Elizabeth slowly rise and eased her hold on Eleanor, giving the bustling square a quick look around. "Where are we?"
"I guess where we're supposed to be," with great care, Eleanor slowly lowered herself to the ground, trying her best to imitate the images of how a proper lady dismounted from books and magazines she read. What she managed however was an awkward crawl down the side of Shadowfax that looked more like a crab scaling down a rock face, the ill hidden chortling from the watching elves only made her face burn a brighter shade of red.
Back on the ground, Eleanor was composing herself when a sharp yell from Elizabeth drew her attention back to Shadowfax, and found herself laughing with the elves. As ridiculous as she might have looked, at least Eleanor managed to land on own two feet, unlike Elizabeth who was dangling by her ankle, face planted on the ground, hanging like some discard puppet.
"Stop laughing and help me!" Elizabeth cried indignantly.
"I'm sorry it's just…" Eleanor snorted, trying and failing to hold her laughter in as she untangled Elizabeth, who plopped gracelessly to the ground. "And here I thought I was the only boob around here."
"That really hurt," Elizabeth pouted and brushed the dusts off her face.
"A little red in the cheek, but you should be alright," Eleanor turned toward the wall and waved for Elizabeth to follow. "Come on."
They bounded up the narrow stairs that seemed to be carved into the very wall itself, shouldering pass elves in plain clothing as they hurried up and down the steps, some carrying bundle filled with arrows. After a few minutes, they reached the top and found a squadron of Columbia gunships hovering a few miles away from the wall.
"So these are the people after you?" Galadriel turned to regard them, the elf maiden standing resolute against the invader with poise and grace, her gold locks fluttering in the wind like streaming banner.
"They are," Eleanor squeezed passed the rank of archers to stand beside Galadriel.
"How interesting," Rake said as he adjusted the straps and chink of his midnight armor, his mannerism easy and somewhat curious. When the hell did he found the time to put them on? And why is that sword on his back so big?
"Not since Moon Spawn had I seen aerial warfare in action," Rake mused.
"This should be rather enlightening for me then," Galadriel respond.
"Quite dangerous too, for we must be the one who bear the blunt of the attack."
"You speak from experience then?"
"I do, but I was the one up in the sky then."
Galadriel lips curved into a petite smile when one of the gunship suddenly broke formation and flew directly toward the wall, lowering itself down until the deck was leveled with the parapet. The elves, with mechanical single-mindedness, drew arrows from their quivers, nocked the bow and took aim at the flying machine, only a gentle raise of Galadriel hand stopped the volley from being unleashed, whatever good that would do.
The gunship made a turn so that it was lined up parallel to the walls, and on the empty deck stood a single Person. Columbia.
"Hello Elizabeth, Eleanor," she strode leisurely to the edge of the gunship, her black dress gliding after her like a living shadow. "It's been a while hasn't it?"
"Not long enough," Elizabeth spat.
"Oh I'm hurt! Is that anyway to talk to your sister?" Columbia false civility dripped acidic venom.
"We're not sister!" Elizabeth yelled and Columbia revels in her less than lady like response.
"It's a mirror image," Rake hissed, the huge sword suddenly in his hand, "a doppelgänger of the girl Elizabeth."
"I can see that," Galadriel agreed, drawing immediate ire from Columbia who strode over to stand before the elf and…whatever Rake was.
"You're keeping strange companies these days Elizabeth," Columbia gave Galadriel and Rake a scathing, conceited look down her nose, "you're running to these primitive for help? You two must be more desperate than I thought."
When it appears that her biting words wasn't going to goad Galadriel and Rake into a response, Columbia discarded the conversational tone and opted for a threat instead.
"This is a nice little city you got here," Columbia croon sweetly. "With only a snap of my finger, I can turn every building into smoke and ashes. See, I've been chasing these two little tramps for quite a while now and I'm not in the best of mood. My men share the same annoyance you see, and I might just allow them to let loose a little. It's been a while since they had any good target practice and your peon look inviting enough. This can all be avoided, however, if Elizabeth and Eleanor decide to do what is right."
Eleanor traded quick look with Elizabeth before gazing deep into the doppelgänger piercing blue eyes, identical to the brunette own, she added sickeningly, and saw nothing but dark malice that promised swift retribution if her demands were not met.
She can't let another Mercy Fall happen, she can't let other suffer and die because of her stubbornness again. They had to give up. For the sake of all the innocent that was now caught in the crossfire of this hunt. Eleanor turned to Elizabeth and saw the same forlorn realization weighing down the brunette's pretty face. They locked gaze again, and knew in that moment what must be done.
So this was the end then, the conclusion to their mad dash across space and time, the bitter ending that she had fear but knew deep down was inescapable. Eleanor had to hold back tears as she reached over and took Elizabeth hand, the brunette grip was trembling as she braved a smile for her.
"We have to do the right thing," Eleanor voice begin to crack.
"I know," Elizabeth croaked a reply.
"Well isn't that cute," Columbia sneered, the satisfaction dripping from every enunciation made Eleanor boiled with anger, but all she could manage was a glare. "Enough with the pleasantry, let's get a move on, I've wasted enough time as it is."
"Pull the gunship back," Eleanor voice hardened as she addressed Columbia, "tell your soliders to leave this world or we're not going anywhere with you."
"You're in no position to make any demand, Eleanor," Columbia went on smoothly. "Now, get on the…"
"Leave."
All eyes turn to Galadriel, the elf woman might appear compose but Eleanor could feel the pulsing rage radiating from her. Even Rake was backing away, his gait stiff and cautious.
"I'm sorry, what?!" Columbia baulked, and Eleanor didn't know whether she was simply ignorant to Galadriel rising anger or she was keeping up one hell of a poker face. But before she could continue, Galadriel voice rumble forth, impossibly loud like a crashing storm…and was she glowing?!
"You came to this land uninvited," Galadriel powerful announcement was a resonating boom, sending shockwave across stone and sky. "And you dare to threaten my people with death. You have chosen your words poorly, shadow. Now, despair at the consequence."
"What are you…? Wait, hold on a minute," Columbia's eyes widen when Galadriel raised her hand toward the gunship, a ball of pure silvery energy coalescing on her palm. "Now, let's not do anything rash…!"
Before Columbia can even finish her sentence a wave of white light erupted from Galadriel hand and stuck the gunship like a tsunami. The doppelgänger screamed as she rolled and tumbled across the deck, her fingers digging into the wooden floor as the gunship hurtle through the air, spinning and twisting like a toy caught in a tidal wave, careening toward where the squadron was gathered. With no time to react, the gunships could do nothing as Galadriel's fiery energy struck them like an angry fist of God, explosion blossomed across the sky as the flying war machine crashed into each other before streaking down in tendrils of smoky black plume.
Closing her palm, Galadriel let out a gasp as she leaned wearily on the balustrade, Rake quickly laid a bracing hand on her shoulder.
"I'm alright," Galadriel shrugged Rake's hand off before giving him an acknowledging nod, "thank you."
Eleanor and Elizabeth could only stare at the broken remain that was the squadron, limping Founders darted from one debris to the next, gathering the wounded and dead before setting up a perimeter around the crash site. At the epicenter, Eleanor saw a glint of white light. A Tear. Columbia just made her escape. Well, she might be alive but at least Galadriel send her packing like a whipped dog.
"I guess we're not needed after all,"
Eleanor gave a high pitched yelp when she spun around to see two male elves standing behind her, moving swiftly and quietly despite their bulky armor.
"So you're the human girl that was riding Shadowfax down the street and screaming all the way," a brown hair elf in burgundy armor gave a friendly smile.
"I think that was her, actually," Eleanor pointed her thump at Elizabeth.
"Hey!" Elizabeth gave the ground a hard stomp when the other elf warrior, this one sporting long white blond hair and silver armor, came to stand beside her, sparing the brunette a quick, pompous glance.
"So you've destroyed them," the blonde steely gaze swept across the field.
"Some lives," Galadriel gestured to the survivors.
"I'll order the advance, my troops should make quick work of them."
"No, wait!" Eleanor interjected, startling the blonde elf. "Don't send your warriors in, they'll be killed."
"The enemy is beaten," there was a tired edge in the blonde's voice, like parents who indulged in their child ignorant pestering. "They could do nothing but fall before our onslaught."
"But they have guns!"
That gave the elf pause.
"Guns?" He wasn't familiar with the word, not surprising considering that this place looks a few thousand years away from discovering gunpowder.
"It's a weapon that fire projectiles at their target," Elizabeth stepped in. "The range outclasses the best bow and the rapid rate of fire means they can take out a dozen warriors before they could get close enough to fight. What they lack in number they made up in armament."
None of the gathered elf spoke for a moment, then the blonde turned to look at Rake. Although it was clear that something of a combustible rivalry exist between Rake and Galadriel, tempered by control and decorum, the blonde elf harbor no such courtesy. The look he gave Rake reveal nothing by naked contempt, bordering on hatred. The dark skinned lord, however, reciprocate with a flat look.
"You deal with this then," he spat then stomped away down the wall.
"I shall be quick," Rake slid his sword into the scabbard over his shoulder then, to the shock of Eleanor, stepped on to the railing.
"Good luck Anomander," Galadriel gave him a small, but meaningful smile.
"Thank you," Rake nodded and leapt off the wall. Eleanor and Elizabeth gave a frightened squeal and dashed for the stone balustrade. They were about to peer down when a massive shape shot into the air, the powerful gust streaming in its wake blasting the pair off their feet.
Rubbing her bottom, Eleanor gazed up to see…a dragon.
A black and majestic beast of terrible splendor, not unlike the cutesy reptilian depiction that adorned the many storybooks she had read as a child, but a regal creature more fitting at the side of kings and emperors. The dragon onyx hide of overlapping diamond shaped scales shone like fine cut jewel in the sun, gleaming with fiery radiance as the pair of sinuous wings, each the size of a bus, propelled it higher into the sky like a missile.
"Did he…" Elizabeth stammered, "d-did he j-just…turn into a…d-dragon?!"
"He does that sometime," Galadriel gave her easy answer, as if seeing a man turn into a dragon was a norm in this place. Come to think of it, it probably is.
"Come along," Galadriel waved for the pair to follow as she glided toward the stair behind the wall. "Let's us find Gandalf and tell him that the threat has been pacified. Then we shall contact the Master and tell him of your where about." She stopped in front of the elf in burgundy armor. "Keep watch here Elrond; I want you in charge of the garrison in case the doppelgänger return."
"Of course my friend," he nodded then gave her a halfhearted grimace. "Celebrain won't be happy though."
"I shall explain your absence to her myself," she smiled and gracefully descended the stair, every elf in sight bowing deeply to her passing. Sparing one last glance at Anomander Rake, the dragon now hovering above the gunship remains and bathing it in black, smoky fire, Eleanor grabbed the flabbergasted Elizabeth by the arm and guided the dazed brunette slowly down the steps.
"He just…dragon…" Elizabeth mumbled, her mind still reeling from the fantastical.
"Yeah, I know, now watched your step," Eleanor held Elizabeth firmly as they slowly descend, making sure that the brunette doesn't trip and threw them both down the stairs. Well, a ride on Shadowfax will clear her head quick enough.
It wasn't until late afternoon when Olorin finally informed them that Mr. Master had been made aware of their location and would be arriving, local time, the following morning. Eleanor should feel relieved, knowing that salvation was enroute. Soon she and Elizabeth will be safe while the Eight hunt down Columbia and mother, to finally rid them of this dark, haunting past that refuses to die.
She should be happy. Instead, all she felt was a stomach twisting dread. The glass of elven wine lay untouched on the table before her, and the sight of delectable creamy pastries made her gagged. Beside her Elizabeth sat brooding, no doubt feeling the same trepidation.
Were they a pessimist for assuming the worse? For not trusting the most obvious good portent and instead waited for something to go wrong? Eleanor wanted to believe that she was being realistic but after everything they've been through, it felt almost dangerous to hope for anything good to happen.
Their fear was vindicated when Olorin burst into their waiting room inside the palace, the same urgency from the morning prevalent on his face.
"Come with me," he said raptly, "something had happened."
"Of course it did," Eleanor grumbled lowly, but strangely enough the clawing fear that had been plaguing her faded to a numbness that can only be achieved when one's future became clear, when you stop worrying and actually do something about the problem before you.
"What happened?" Elizabeth asked as they strode down the wide corridor.
"One of those flying contraption returned," Gandalf said.
"Just one?"
"Yes. It hovered above the palace for a few minutes before dropping something out of the sky and then flew away."
"A bomb?" Eleanor piped up.
"No, a crate addressed to the both of you."
Trading each other looks of alarm, Eleanor and Elizabeth quickened their pace until they overtook Olorin and rushed down the hall, emerging moments later on to the palace square. A ring of palace guard had surrounded the package, a simple wooden crate with a white parachute draped over it. Pushing their way through the tight, clanging rank of soliders, Eleanor and Elizabeth stepped onto the empty space around the box. Galadriel, Rake, Elrond and that prissy blonde elf from before were there, standing at a safe distant.
"Stay back," Elizabeth waved them away, "there could be explosive in there."
"I don't think so," Eleanor walked over to the crate. "If they had wanted to bomb this place, they would've done so already."
There was a folded paper tied to the crate, Eleanor pulled it free and flipped it open.
'To Elizabeth & Eleanor' was written on the parchment, the cursive handwriting deceptively friendly and somewhat alluring. Throwing away the card, Eleanor opened the crate and dug through the pile of hay inside until her hand grazed something hard. Grabbing the smooth surface, Eleanor pulled out a…PDA? It looked similar to the minicomputer from Mars, but leaner and wider.
"What the hell?" Turning to the baffled Elizabeth at her side, Eleanor pressed the button at the bottom of the monitor, the PDA lit up to display a singular icon on an otherwise empty screen. Tapping it with her finger, everything went black for a moment before Columbia dumbfounded face suddenly popped up to dominate the whole screen. Eleanor almost dropped the PDA in fright.
"Is this thing on?" Columbia spoke, face scrunched in confusion. "I'm not sure if it's on or not."
"It is," her mother assured the doppelgänger.
"Okay then…so I just talk?"
"That's what the instruction says."
It took a moment for Eleanor to realize that she was watching a recording, not a live transmission. The scene stuttered as Columbia placed the device on a stand before stepping back until she stood at the center of the screen.
"Hello again, Elizabeth, Eleanor," Columbia began primly, hands folded in front of her skirt. "It's look like you managed to escape again. I must say I'm very impressed by your tenacity."
She paused for a moment, and it was during this brief soundless interlude that Eleanor heard a noise in the background. A heavy, labored breathing of someone in pain.
"But you see," Columbia's grin was evil, "I was expecting this, so I've prepare a little surprise for you."
She spun the device swiftly in another direction, the sudden motion blurring the focus but Eleanor can vaguely make out a smudgy silhouette of a seated human shape.
"Recognize him?"
Eleanor and Elizabeth could only gasped in horror when the image cleared to reveal Booker DeWitt, the False Shepard that had sacrificed his life to free the Lamb of Columbia from bondage and brought an end to the nightmare that was Comstock and his demented city. The Pinkerton was tied to a dirty wooden chair, his face a bloody mess of bruises.
"Who are you?" Booker panted between ragged breath. "What's going on? What do you people want?"
Daisy, creeping out of the darkness behind Booker, gave the answer by punching his face with a brass knuckle. Blood and teeth flew from Booker's mouth as his head jerk limply before lolling to a stop, his consciousness moments away from surrendering to the pain.
"Now, now Mr. DeWitt, remember your manners, speak only when you are spoken to," Columbia came to stand beside him, the man flinching as she ran a gentle finger down his battered face. "Long story short Elizabeth, after your baptism of the original Booker, a universe sprang up where dear Mr. DeWitt never sold his daughter to wipe away his debt, and they lived happily ever after. Until I came along that is."
A sharp cry sounded then, the bawling of an infant. Eleanor felt ice rushes down her spine as Columbia smiled and walked away from the startled Booker, lucidity returning in a rush of panic.
"Oh, hush now my dear, everything is going to be alright," Columbia reappeared with a bundle cradled in her arms, a petite pair of grabbing hands rising from the cotton blanket.
"Anna!" Booker roared and fought against his binding. "I'll kill you, you fucking bitch! I'll kill everyone last one of you! Let her go! Let my daughter go!"
Columbia handed baby Anna to the waiting Sofia as Daisy drew her Bowie knife and pressed its sharpened tip on Booker's snarling face, carving open his ruined visage as his agonizing cry melded with Anna's own to make a jarring wail of shattered humanity.
"Daisy, that's enough dear," Columbia said calmly when Booker stopped screaming, the only indication that he was alive after such a savage ministration was the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Daisy cleaned her knife with a piece of rag before throwing the soak cloth over Booker's ravaged face.
"Such a sweet child," Eleanor hands trembled as Sofia spoke, not from fear but anger the like she had never felt before. "Perhaps it is providence that a new candidate for the utopian project had fallen into my arms, I'm sure she would be a resounding success unlike the previous failure."
"Now Sofia, we haven't decided on anything yet," Columbia turned to look directly at the device. "But it is a possibility that will come to pass if your daughter and my sister continue to be difficult. Booker and little Anna are alive, and if you want them to remain that way, then go to the place where my gunship crashed, there is a Tear waiting and I'm sure you'll know what to do. I hope to see you very soon."
Eleanor let out a jagged scream as the recording came to an end, throwing the PDA on the ground where it shattered into a hundred pieces. Beside her Elizabeth was on her knees, weeping openly.
"It's all my fault," Elizabeth sobbed as Eleanor wrapped her up into a tight embrace. "It's all my fault."
"We'll get them out," Eleanor hissed through gritted teeth, her safety and the Master be damned, she'll never leave an innocent child in the hands of her mother. Hell and high water, she'll get Booker and his daughter out, even if it means facing the reaper himself.
"It's a trap, don't be a fool," Eleanor head snapped toward the blonde elf, his bearing devoid of sympathy.
"I don't care," Eleanor spat back.
"Thranduil is correct," Rake now said. "You will doom yourself and those you seek to help."
"At the very least wait until the Master arrive," Elrond added. "There is no use in throwing your lives away in an unwinnable danger."
"I don't care!" Eleanor shrieked, but the gathered elves, wizard and dragon-man didn't even flinch.
"If that is your wish," Galadriel spoke up, her voice taking a more soothing timbre. "Then we will not stop you. We'll let the Master know of your intention when he arrives."
Eleanor and Elizabeth only gave the elf woman a weak nod when Olorin stepped up to them and offered a hand. Sniffing, Eleanor took it and heaved herself and Elizabeth upward.
"Those are not proper attires," he turned away and nudges his head for them to follow, his words heavy with resignation. "Come along, I'll get you properly outfitted."
By the time Eleanor and Elizabeth had changed from a single piece dress to a black legging and clean white shirt with a leather vest on top, the sun had already set, darkness blanketed the world as the pair strode beyond the wall and toward the crash site. They moved quickly, almost breaking into a run as they headed toward the Tear, shinning like a silver beacon in the night.
Or a tombstone.
Banishing those thought, Eleanor entered the charcoal clearing, dusty remains of grass crunching beneath her boot. The destruction brought upon the Founders was absolute, nothing but charred bodies frozen in twisted torment remained, their shapes almost indistinguishable from the mechanical carcasses around them. Eleanor thought of scavenging a gun but quickly discarded the idea, knowing that the chance of finding anything useful in this wreckage was next to none.
Stopping before the Tear, Eleanor gulped loudly knowing that there's probably an army waiting for them on the other side. But they can't allow Booker and Anna to suffer, they had to help them. It's what Delta would've done.
"Are you sure about this?" Still, Eleanor had to ask the obvious question.
"I am," Elizabeth nodded resolutely before turning to Eleanor. "Listen Eleanor…this isn't your fight. This is between me and Columbia now, she made this more personal by throwing Booker and Anna into the mix. You can wait here for Mr. Master if you want."
"You're an idiot if you think I'm going to let you go alone," Eleanor said sharply. "I'm not leaving anybody in the hands of my mother, and I'm not letting you face her alone either."
"Thank you Eleanor," Elizabeth turned back to the Tear and heaved a heavy sigh. "Guess there's no point in delaying, is there?"
"You're right," Eleanor steeled herself, "shall we?"
"Let's."
Without another word, Eleanor and Elizabeth inhaled deeply like one would before leaping into the sea and, side by side, stepped through the Tear.