The food was wonderful. It sounded rather simplistic to just call it 'wonderful', but Anya couldn't find a better description. Much of it reminded her of the foods from her youth, with breads and cheeses, fresh fruits and an assortment of fruit preserves, lightly toasted nuts and skewers of herb seasoned roasted meats. There were various drinks that she couldn't quite decide if they were fruit juices or light wines, and brilliantly clear cool water. All of this on a table made of a pale, smooth stone that shimmered in the filtered sunlight and had matching benches that were the perfect height to in comfort to talk and eat without feeling squished against the table or so far from the table that food threatened to fall on her clothing. Not that her clothing was any match for the splendor of the surroundings or the feast set before them, but still…
She'd have been highly suspicious of what D'Hoffryn was up to if everything seemed too perfect too quickly.
To begin with, the conversation was nothing more complex than light words about what fruits were fresh and which preserves had been made earlier, where some of the nuts had been gathered and absent discussion of some of the herbs used to season the meat. Anya recognized some of the names, but others were strange to her, leading them to discuss what the plants looked like, where they grew and some of the other uses for them. Anya appreciated the idea of not spoiling the wonderful food with tough questions about how she'd come to Rivendell or why she'd been sent to another world. Especially not spoiling it with nasty suspicions about what she might be up to and if she might be trouble.
Just because she didn't see any dungeons didn't mean that the elves couldn't make unwelcome or dangerous visitors very uncomfortable or very dead. In fact, every civilized society that she'd ever encountered, including across multiple worlds during her experiences as a Vengeance Demon, every single one had ways of dealing with unwelcome individuals. Every single one had ways of making life miserable. Including the Shum-Nikkur who dropped the offenders into pits with furry beasts that were an awful lot like… bunnies. The mere memory of it made her shudder. These elves would have something, and she'd rather not find out anytime soon.
As pleasant as the meal was, there came a point where Anya was nibbling on a piece of bread topped with a reddish-purple berry preserve, unable to consider taking another bite of the meat, or of the heavier breads. She had a glass of a pale green drink that was slightly sweet with a hint of tartness. Across the table, Lord Elrond had his own drink, held in a creation of clear glass and bronze.
"I can tell that you possess a measure of magical power and training. Are such abilities common in your world?" His voice held a soft purr, reminiscent of a very contented cat.
"Not as common as they once were," Anya admitted. She had no idea how much he knew, but she didn't want to tell him about her time as one of D'Hoffryn's… it was he sort of news that tended to go over rather badly, often leading to those methods of dealing with unwelcome visitors.
"So the time of magic is fading in your world…" While Elrond had been gazing at her, he seemed to drift a bit in thoughts, perhaps considering the idea of a world where magic was fading, perhaps comparing the idea to something happening in this world.
"It isn't gone, not yet at least," Anya paused, and let herself think of her own youth, when every village seemed to have a wise woman to cast runes to see the future, to divine the fates of children and quests, to aid women in childbirth and cast curses on their enemies. In her own part of the world, most things had been passed from wise woman to wise woman, teacher to apprentice, with few even considering the idea of writing those secrets onto paper, wood or stone. The modern era had so many written things available, but much of the old lore was gone, vanished into the mists of the past and the realms of the dead. "Nations change, and the ways of nations who fall in battle are suppressed. With those ways go the lore of their wise women, those who know any secrets of magic. Then those nations fall, and another falls, and if the people who know happen to die before they can pass on what they knew…"
"Often, when nations fall, it is the leaders and the keepers of lore and history who are the first to go," Elrond mused. "Such things could easily lead to the loss of certain teachings, of histories, of old warnings… or the ways of power."
"Where I'm from, no nation has believed in elves for hundreds of years. I don't know of anybody that has claimed to see one in that whole world. As the years have passed, magic has fallen out of favor, first to the belief in the strength of a mortal religion and the steel of mortal weapons, and then to ways of building and making things. Clever devices, elaborate contraptions… and the amazing motivating force of money. When I was young I had no idea what people would be willing to do for a large enough amount of money…" Anya let her words trail away. Some of the most appalling things she'd seen had boiled down to the desire for money. Hearts broken, innocence despoiled, villages crushed and burned… kidnappings, threats, blackmail, maimings… What was saddest and most puzzling was that the more money someone had, the more power money held over them, the more likely they would be to be susceptible to offers of more, or to give money to hide their dirty little secrets.
"You have seen more years than most of the blood of men. Was this a part of the lore of your people?"
His words were calm, but Anya could feel the underlying strength to them, like a hidden blade or a lounging wolf.
"I knew some lore, some things that I could do with power. But mostly they were small things…" Anya sighed and sipped at the wine again. "I suppose this is where 'small things' becomes a relative term, but I wasn't even fully trained. I'd been studying with our wise woman for several years, but that wasn't enough. And then my husband… he cheated on me. It made me so angry that I did something reckless, stupid. And it changed everything."
"What sort of small things could you do?" Elrond looked curious, and his fingers brushed over a sparkling ring that he wore on his left hand.
Anya considered the ring. In twentieth century America and Europe, that could indicate that he was married. In the lands of her youth, it would only mean that he'd had the wealth and connections to buy such a ring. But everything was complicated by the fact that the ring resonated with power, more than any single object that she'd ever encountered in her many, many years. Was it a sign of his status as the leader of Rivendell? Was it a sign of wealth and prosperity, as things would have been in her youth? In which case, the elves here eclipsed any group of magic users that she'd ever encountered. Was it something that he had made, and if so, why? Was it a sign of his personal abilities, and if so, what abilities did it represent?
"I could tell if things had been poisoned, or if they carried a disease. I could make healing herbs work more effectively. Sometimes I could use things that belonged to someone to find them, but not always. I could tell if things held power," Anya shrugged, and hoped that things weren't going to get ugly.
"Were such abilities wide spread among your people?" Elrond asked.
"Mmmm. Some people could sense the energy patterns, and that's what the Wise Women looked for in their students. Often, those abilities ran in families, but not always. Or maybe they skipped enough generations that we didn't know they were coming through a family line. It was never what you'd call common, but hardly rare."
"It is only reasonable that such things would follow family lines, and that not everyone in a family would have them," Elrond nodded, the hand with the ring raising to cup his chin.
Anya sat at the table that was still laden with foods, and looked around at the elven settlement. It didn't look like the cities that she was used to, and she had no idea how far it extended, since the buildings seemed to rise out of the ground, to slip out of trees, to vanish into the ground and forest at any distance. There could be dozens, or hundreds, or even thousands of elves.
"Is it difficult for you to sense an objects magic?" Elrond spoke again.
"That really depends on the object and the amount of magic. Just sitting here, I can't tell about the table or the benches, though they are very nicely crafted. I thought there was something on the cloak that the ranger – I believe he called himself Strider – was wearing, and something at his belt had a little bit, my guess would be healing magics. The only thing I'm sure about is that ring on your finger." Anya pointed at his hand, figuring that there was no way that anyone with the first hint of ability to detect magic could possibly miss that. If she didn't mention it, he'd have to wonder what else she wasn't admitting to, and then things could get ugly. "Not that I have the first clue what it does. But it has a lot of magic to it."
"And if I were to tell you that this ring is a symbol of my authority here in Rivendell?" something in his eyes suggested that there was a great deal more to the ring than a simple badge of authority.
Anya gave a little smile, deciding that if that was how he wanted to play things for now, it was probably safer not to argue. "Then I'd have to say it's a very distinctive sign of status."
"I think you will be a most memorable guest, Anya. May you enjoy your stay in Rivendell," his smile suggested more than a little amusement.
Smiling, Anya could only accept his words and hope that he meant them, "Thank you, Lord Elrond. It looks lovely."
End part 4.