The Elemental

The Elemental

By Bunniko

Fieryfaerie@yahoo.com

AN: This is my first published Labyrinth fic. It is dark and is pre-"Labyrinth." As such, it features a lot of dark undertones. I have also taken liberty with a great deal of things, such as history in general and in specific and with magic. I am not Wiccan, nor pagan, so I hope that my representation of magic offends no one. I do not mean to endorse any religion nor denigrate one either. I don't own the Labyrinth either. This fic was inspired while watching a show about Ireland's ghosts of the Travel Channel. I don't know its name, nor do I own it. Kiori does belong to me, so please ask if you want to use her. If you want to know her background, email me and maybe I'll write her story. By the way, it's pronounced "key-or-ee" ;

Chapter Two – History, Curses, Spells and Promises

Helen had landed on her right side, her temple striking the ground with enough force to blot out her consciousness for several hours. Her right arm was broken in two places. Jareth turned the crystal, examining the small human. Her blonde hair had hung in a single braid past her waist. Now, it was unraveling, the tie lost in her travels. He frowned. She had barely gotten anywhere at all when you thought about. She was pathetic, a hopelessly selfish girl without the necessary imagination and grit to solve his challenges. He allowed the crystal to darken, uninterested any longer in the mortal child who had proved herself to be just like all the others.

He flashed another crystal into existence, this one holding the image of a young brunette above ground. This woman-child had caught his attention, mainly because she actually knew about him. She studied the play written long ago as a prophecy by a Greek seer named Cassandra. Though the true history of the play had been lost to the Aboveworlders, there was still a thread of magic, an aura that had inspired that researcher to translate it into their barbaric sounding English tongue. He had thought it pure gold, stealing it from the ancient Greek author who had dramatized Cassandra's vision and putting his name on the work. For that crime, Jareth had spelled him endless nights of horror until finally, one dark night, the horror changed the man to a beast of such undefinable evil that he was merely an elemental. Realizing that his punishment had unleashed a creature capable of destroying the Aboveworld, Jareth had been forced to retrieve the thing and confine it in an oubliette.

For the creature, such a fate was befitting. He was forgotten both in the Underground and his home world, forgotten to all but the few who had found his crude, romanticized play. Only Jareth knew that the play not only revealed the truth about the Underground and himself, but also bespoke of the mortal girl who would one day solve his Labyrinth and destroy his world. Of course, the play ended there, the old man uninterested in the true ending. For once released from his Labyrinth and the Underground, Jareth would once again be free.

The Aboveworld, Earth, as the selfish humans named it, had not always been dominated by humans. Jareth sneered, thinking now of the past, no longer focusing on the girl. No, once Earth had been home to many different intelligent species. Until Rakellan, high priestess of the cult that would one day become known as the Druids, took matters into her own hands. Humans and Fae had never truly gotten along. Dwarves, gnomes, elementals, vampyres, goblins, faeries, pixies, brownies, were-creatures, merfolk, dragons, Fireys, beasts of all sorts and many other creatures had been forced to choose sides. The Fae were similar to humans, probably of the same original species. But what separated them, what truly caused the deep gap in their two societies was not politics. No, the Fae people were tall, elegant, inherently beautiful. Pale beings who often towered over the other species, they commanded respect. They were inherently magical and as a natural side effect, they enjoyed long lives. They existed in symbiosis with Nature.

Humans on the other hand, were inherently literal. What they saw around them defined their reality. They craved stability and science. They abhorred magic, perhaps because no human could fully command or possess it. Where magic was as much a part of Fae as their blood, it was foreign to humans. It often drove them mad or went out of control. Humans craved power and so they attempted to shape the magic to do their bidding. Unwilling or incapable of integrating the magic into themselves, they were often consumed by it, committing grave crimes. Alien magic always subverts. Even the most powerful Fae shunned the attempt to acquire a type of magic they did not already identify with. Humans were also parasitic, viewing the world as theirs for the taking and not considering the damage that they did to the fragile balance Nature provided.

Such opposites had little common ground and both sides held the other in contempt. Wars broke out, carving out sections of land where only one side existed. Though the Fae were magical, they were too reverent about the land. Humans were willing to go to any savagery necessary to claim what they wanted and demolish those they hated. Fae numbers and holdings dwindled. Soon the Fae were forced to ally with the less powerful creatures in the hopes that they could withstand the human tide. Goblins, dwarves, dragons all fell to the determination of the human race. Wholesale genocide began in all portions of the globe until only the holiest lands, those islands of Britannia were the Faes haven. The Fae had underestimated the extent of hatred and treachery flowing in the blood of the humans. Begrudgingly, they had to acknowledge that the human race had the determination to hold the globe.

Plans were made on the isle of Avalon. A Fae priestess was placed in charge of a group of Fae and human mortals, mostly women, who were committed to a life in balance with nature. From there was the beginning of the Keltic peoples. The rest of the Fae and a large portion of the other species readied for their last stand in the glades of Eire. It had been an overwhelming slaughter. Jareth's grandfather himself had woven the spell that would keep Avalon shrouded in mist, protected from the bloodthirsty masses until such time that they were ready to accept a new faith. The Underground was created as a refuge for all those that would flee. Many Fae children, along with the children of most of the species, other than human, were sent there. The final battle was merely a concerted effort on the parts of the parents to cover their tracks as well as to die fighting for their freedom and rights. It was a slaughter.

Time passed. Jareth was born, one of the few new babies. The Underground was sparsely populated. Most of the Fae sent here either died of depression or despair or simply lacked powerful enough magic to make a difference. The land was arid and the elementals that had crossed over were unstable, preying on all. Jareth's father and mother were the two most powerful Fae and they began to strive to salvage their people. She created the Labyrinth, revealing a devious mind, and trapped the elementals in it. He created jobs for the various species, establishing order. Fae villages sprang up on the most verdant areas, hope and joy seeming to affect the landscape. The goblins pledged themselves to the King and Queen. Goblins and dwarves built the first castle, then their cities and finally reinforced the Labyrinth with mortar and stone instead of bushes and thorns.

Several species were lost forever, sadly. The dragons, which had made their homes in the East, had been completely wiped out. The merfolk had refused to leave Earth's oceans and within a couple hundred years had been exterminated. If any survived, they hid where the oceans were too deep or too dangerous for humankind to explore. In fact, the only victory the merfolk had ever claimed was the sinking of Atlantis. Atlantis had been the seat of government and civilization for the humans, so it had been at first counted a great victory. Now it was seen as the turning event of the war, the event that pushed the humans to new limits of hate and determination.

After a hundred years of their exile, Jareth, young and bitter, had ascended to the throne. His parents had tired of their rule, their youth sapped by the strain of taming the wild lands and dissimilar tribes. They had passed on together, their magic infusing the Underground with positive energy. Jareth grew concerned over the dwindling numbers of the Goblin species; it seemed that reproduction was a very tricky thing with their kind, each female only able to birth one child in her lifetime. He resented the humans and from the resentment sprang his inspiration. He began to snatch away infants from the Aboveworld. At first, it hadn't bothered the Aboveworlders much. Children weren't as precious in those days and the losses could be easily explained due to the large amounts of were-creatures and vampyres still prevalent in the world. It was only when Jareth got particularly greedy and snatched several children from a clan in the Keltic lands that he gained Rakellan's attention.

She leveled a curse upon him. He was forever bound to the Underground, unless summoned by the right words to take a child away. He would never be free to leave until an older sibling defeated him. Cassandra, in Greece, felt the vibrations of Rakellan's spell and suffered recurring visions. Her most re-occurring one was of the girl who would defeat not only the Labyrinth, but his icy heart as well. Only when she broke the spell binding him forever to the Underground would Jareth be free to seek out his soulmate. Rakellan had further cursed Jareth that his soulmate would be human and would hate him, but Cassandra believed that her hate could be overcome, in time.

Jareth continued his musings long into the night, the still image of the young girl frozen in the crystal he absently held. His musings were only interrupted when the tolling of the clock struck thirteen. Gathering himself up, he prepared to confront the girl who had failed. A dark grin slashed across his face. In the pit, where the goblins lounged and played, directly in front of his throne, a young boy's body arced as if in great pain. Magic swirled around him, his small mouth open in soundless screams as his skin changed from pale pink to dark gray, his baby blue eyes to beady red ones, his average face to a face only a mother could love – if that – and his babysoft skin grew gnarled and tough. Within moments, the newest Goblin babe was tormenting a chicken, to the delight of his rather simpleminded fellow Goblins.