A lone dragon soared over the endless green of the Ellzidanian wilderness. Her coloration was one of beauty, not designed for survival in a forested environment. The scales on her back were a deep red which held streaks of deep purple at the right angle. Her stomach was a deep gold, giving her the appearance of fire from afar. The more historically knowledgeable of draconologists could talk for ages about this one. She's a relic from a time gone by; her scale pattern and color is found nowhere else among the modern generations of dragons. She's almost a living fossil, though no scientist has ever gotten close enough to study her.
The dragon tilted her head downward to regard the forests below. She surveyed the land with eyes to rival an eagle's, picking out creatures and even people moving under the canopy. She wasn't looking for a meal, however. Her gaze swept across the surface for less than a minute before it returned to where it had stayed for hours before. She stared out at the horizon, sunset beginning to streak red across Sonnel's sky.
Among the burning colors of the setting sun, the dragon seemingly melted into the sky. It was here that she seemed camouflaged, where you could say she was meant to be. Unlike those who lived in the present, gliding among blue skies over green trees, this dragon lived in a perpetual chase of the sun. She would set with the sun each day, and arrive just as naturally with the sun the next morning.
She was an entity not unlike the sun itself, and revered as such. In good times and bad, feasts and famines, this dragon graced the southeastern skies of Drawkland all the same. While many were comforted by her presence in the evening skies, few considered the fact that the dragon flew alone. Not once had a dragon-watcher, amateur or professional, seen her fly in tandem. It's lonely, being a force of nature.
The phone buzzed to life on the wooden nightstand. Ellzidan was lounging across the room, and felt a sharp wooden poke in her shoulder blade.
Could you kindly grab that? The smokey voice floated through her head.
"It's just a phone call, there's no reason for urgency." The elf rolled her eyes, as she had planned to let it go into voicemail. She could admit the advent of the telephone had made things a little easier, much easier than having people plant magic saplings everywhere, but she still didn't like the things. Not to mention, talking on the phone was vastly inferior to merely portal-hopping to the person on the other line and having a real conversation.
You know I don't like that weird buzzing feeling. Makes me feel like I have bees. The voice briefly paused, then hastily continued.
And don't give me that claptrap about bees being beneficial. I was there when the bee was being invented, but that doesn't make them any less of a discomfort for me."You may be the only tree in history that's confirmed ticklish." Ellzidan shot back with a smirk, finally getting off her seat and striding across the room to pick up the phone. She grimaced when she saw who was calling, though she had already correctly assumed the identity. "Hello?"
"Ah, excellent, you picked up!" The voice of Iarocav rang out through the phone speaker.
"I'm sure you're over the moons." Ellzidan slumped back, sitting on the edge of her bed.
"I truly am blessed to be graced by your virtual presence." Iarocav cleared his throat, and the fake cheeriness evaporated from his voice. "Honestly, though, I'm glad you picked up. I need your help with something."
"What is it?" Ellzidan sat up straighter. Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad call after all.
"I have two issues, actually, but one of them isn't important right now. The other thing is what you can help me with right now."
"That so?" She suppressed the instinct to groan. This was one of Iarocav's most common bargaining tactics with her: promise something interesting to do, with the caveat being she would have to help him do something much more mundane and annoying. She had to admit that he had a knack for finding evil or chaos to root out in some far-off realm, a very welcome distraction from the doldrums of day-to-day immortal life. Were the press conferences and assistance in weird projects really worth it, though? It would have to depend on what the initial ordeal was.
"It is so. There happens to be an event coming up in a few months, and I have yet to find a venue for it. I know it's rude for me to volunteer your home, but I think it would serve quite well." Iarocav was well aware that Ellzidan knew of his system, and he didn't mind it. In his eyes, this was less of a bargain, but a trade. Sure, he could solve quite a bit of problems throughout the great realms by himself, or with Meliauden, or with anybody else. Really, he could just leave those conflicts for somebody else, and it would be no skin off his back. When he needed Ellzidan's help or presence, he knew that she would usually lend a hand as she saw fit. That felt unfair, though, so he would search for opportunities to pay the elf back for her assistance.
"Which event is it? International summit, big convention, sports tournament?" Ellzidan stood up from her bed and started to pace in muted excitement. She felt like she'd just hit the jackpot. Hosting events at Elstrund was a breeze, and she didn't even have to be there 95% of the time. The tree took care of most everything, and she could do her own thing without much interruption.
"In a manner of speaking." Iarocav gritted his teeth, because he knew this next part was the kicker. "The Accords are set to meet this year. It's been far too long since the meeting has been held in your neck of the woods."
"I see." Ellzidan froze in step. That was a wrinkle she had not been expecting, and now the excitement turned into something the elf assumed was dread.
"Before you say no, because I know that's the next word coming from your mouth, please reconsider." Iarocav hastily began a similar pace around his study. "You haven't attended an Immortal Accords event in literal centuries. It's high time you should, plus your friends from the Corps will be receiving their first rites. Elstrund is a beautiful tree and a great venue to host the gala and everything. Every time you hosted in the past we got nothing but compliments. Also, if I have to answer one more question about 'how you're doing' or 'if you're still around' and if the rumor is true that your hair is red again, I may end up strangling somebody to death multiple times."
"If they care so much about me, or like Elstrund so much, then they can visit me on their own time." Ellzidan nervously tapped her foot. She could say no at any time, but doing so before she'd objectively won the debate would be admitting defeat. She really did not want to do this.
"Come on, you know these people." Though she couldn't see, he was beginning to gesticulate wildly with his free hand. Even with all the hands-free and high-level technology, he still preferred to hold the phone up to his face like in the old days. "I can barely get them to come from their secluded towers once a half-century, and some still think motor vehicles are a new-fangled fad. If they had the capacity to travel to Elstrund on a whim they would've done it already."
"Sounds like their problem, then. Maybe your problem too, but not mine."
"Ell, you're going to have friends there, people that wouldn't be there without your help. You know they'd be disappointed if they didn't see you." Iarocav knew the hosting part was trivial. The game was in convincing Ellzidan to be there at all. He knew why she'd refused to come for the last several hundred years, the timing was no coincidence. Hopefully the new presence of some people would be enough to counter the guaranteed presence of some select others.
"Hmph." She couldn't deny that Nicole Warren and the others were now some of the closest immortal friends she had. Of course, she'd seen them dozens of times since they returned from the quest with eternal life, but the Accords were different. It was something almost as special as achieving immortality itself, it was a celebration of the good sides of being among the undying. She knew that, Iarocav knew that, and they both knew the other knew it. This was a hole that would be hard to scrape out of.
"I know you're in a tough spot with some of the people who I'm sure will attend." He'd given Ellzidan a few silent moments to organize a rebuttal, and when none was forthcoming, he knew he had to drive home the final piece. "I think it's time to come to terms with your feelings. You can't hold a grudge forever. Well, I suppose you literally can, but it's not healthy. I'm not asking you to make everything into what it once was, I'm just asking you to take a step in a better direction."
"It's not like any of us are running out of time. I can hold on to anything for as long as I want." She was running out of options.
"Sure you can, but is that actually what you want?" Iarocav paused for effect, and continued. "At the very least, this presents you the opportunity to take the medicine with a spoonful of sugar. I'm arguably doing you a favor."
Ellzidan paced around her room for a long, silent moment. She racked her brain for any escape route, any possible way to slide out of this situation, but there was nothing left. He was right, at least for now. Unfortunately, pulling out of this arrangement would be essentially impossible, so the decision made here would be final.
Iarocav couldn't help but grin when he heard nothing on the other end. He knew what that meant.
"Fine. We will have to iron out the details later, I happen to be very busy right now." She huffed hotly into the phone, even though she knew that wouldn't be coming out the other end of the line.
"Thank you, I truly mean it." Iarocav composed himself and sat in his desk chair with satisfaction. "Expect my call for details next week. Now, I wouldn't want to keep you from your work, so bye bye!"
"Yup." Ellzidan couldn't think of a suitable response. He certainly was not welcome, it was not her pleasure, and it was the opposite of no problem. "Talk to you later, bye."
She clicked the button to hang up with distaste, and tossed the phone in the general direction of the nightstand.
"I hope you're happy!" She sarcastically spat at the tree. "I could've ignored that call, pretended I was away in some other realm for three weeks, and he'd be none the wiser."
Happy? I'm elated! The voice was jovial, and accompanied by the shaking of tree leaves outside. The elf knew this as laughter.
It's been so very many years since the Accords have been held here. I love that crowd! Personal growth for you, too. What's not to love?"Me, apparently," Ellzidan answered, heading towards the door. "I'm going for a run."
Oh, we could do the fancy invitations like last time! Remember the magic growing tree on the back of the card? That was such an excellent idea, we should do it again. Was that you or me who came up with that originally? Probably me. Now would we hold it here or a satellite tree? Decisions, decisions ...As Ellzidan slid down the tree towards the ground, she started tuning out his voice. She wasn't concerned about cardstock or party favors, she was worried about the guestlist. Though the membership of the Accords was near-constant, the crowd that showed up to the meetings varied every time. Without fail, though, there was one group of party animals that were sure to never miss the celebration. Therein lied the big, big problem.
Nicole Warren overlooked the streets of downtown Kayo. To her, it was home. Although she'd been born and raised in one of the many outlying suburbs of Kayo and spent the majority of her formative years and young adult life in the Isles of Avon, the fondest memories of her youth had been seeing the sights in the ancient city. There was a reason she'd accepted the contract offer from the Queens long ago when the Terranean League went defunct. Now, those old memories had received a fresh coat of paint, more vivid now than they'd been as a child. Apparently it was a side effect of being immortal, which seemed pretty convenient, though not really useful right now.
Her eyes wandered along the boulevards and air lanes as her mind wondered through itself. She needed to find a new hobby. As a mortal, it sometimes feels daunting to put time and effort into a new interest. What if it's too much of a time or money sink? What if you're no good at it? It feels wasteful to put yourself into something that won't pan out. Immortals, however, have no such issues. You have the time and money to do quite literally anything, not to mention the time to put in many lifetimes of practice. Now you face a different task: deciding what to do first. The world is your oyster, but there's billions of oysters in the sea.
Nicole was woken from her daze by a knock at her door. It was unexpected, as she hadn't ordered anything and wasn't expecting visitors. It was probably a solicitor, although they almost never ventured into her building. She came in from the balcony and walked to the door. Through the peephole, she saw someone she
really wasn't expecting. Was she legally required to open the door here? She was going to open it anyway, but it was a funny thought.
"Hello?" Nicole cracked the door open, grinning a little nervously.
"Hello!" It was none other than Iarocav standing at her threshold, smiling warmly. "I hope I'm not disturbing anything?"
"Not at all." Nicole paused a moment, looking back at her living room, and cringed a bit. "Would you like to come inside? I have to warn you in advance that I haven't tidied up."
"I would appreciate that." Iarocav dipped his head, and chuckled a bit. "No need to worry about a mess, you should see the state of my library right now!"
"That's a relief," Nicole replied, but inwardly she was still feeling embarrassed. She had clothes strewn across her living room, the big pile of dishes in the sink was begging to be cleaned, and she realized she hadn't lit a candle in a couple weeks.
"I won't be long," Iarocav promised, "I just didn't want to be subject to prying eyes and ears." He had a good poker face, Nicole thought, because he didn't even wrinkle his nose at the smell.
"Oh?" She was instantly distracted from feeling self-conscious about her mess. She lowered her voice a bit. "Oh, is this about ... the thing?"
"Ah yes, the thing indeed." Iarocav chuckled again. He pulled a small envelope from the folds of his coat, and presented it to Nicole. She carefully extended her hand to take it.
"Do I open this now, or..?" Nicole trailed off, feeling the authentic parchment paper in between her fingers. It was thick, sturdy, almost imposing. On the backside was some old-timey script that she couldn't read. Her dad was a history professor though, he could probably translate it. Maybe that should be the hobby to pick up next. On the front fold was a bona fide wax stamp with a pretty seal on the front. Nicole recognized it as the logo of the Immortals Accord.
"Please do!" Iarocav pointed at the envelope. "On the backside is your name printed in old Drawkish script. This seal is enchanted, only the one whose name appears on the envelope can break it. That's you, of course."
"That's cool," Nicole replied simply. She pressed her thumb against the seal. She pushed upwards, and it made a small cracking sound before sliding forward and flipping open the envelope. Inside was a card, made of cardstock even more sturdy than the envelope itself. She couldn't help but make an audible noise of awe.
"The Accords take the aesthetic seriously," Iarocav mused. He enjoyed this moment, and it's why he always delivered the first one in person.
Nicole gave a cursory chuckle, but she was now inspecting the card. On one side was the Accords logo again printed in a shimmering brown ink, and a simple drawing of a tree sapling alongside it. The other side was an invitation.
"'You are cordially invited to the 46th Immortal Accords Gala, held on this date.'" Nicole read the first line aloud, then muttered along as she read the rest. "Oh, it's being held at Elstrund, how fun!"
"I thought you'd like that." Iarocav nodded in approval. "This is the first time for you and your friends, so I figured it would be best to be at a place you know as somewhat familiar. Usually attendance at this event is optional for members, but you're sort of obligated to make an appearance since you're a newly-minted immortal."
"Sort of?" She echoed, raising her eyebrows quizzically.
"It is not strictly required," he cocked one eyebrow. "However, if you aren't there, I will be very displeased. That's not how you want to start off your eternal journey, is it?"
Nicole couldn't tell if he was joking or being serious, but she shook her head regardless.
"That's what I thought." Iarocav's tone softened, and he took a glance at the door. "That's about all I have to say, actually. I'll leave you to whatever you were doing before."
"Thank you for the invitation!" Nicole replied courteously. She was definitely glad he didn't plan to stick around, especially because she just noticed one of her bras poking out from under the coffee table.
"This is a thank you for joining the Accords. Think of it as a reward for all your hard work." Iarocav turned to leave. Before he reached the door, he turned back to Nicole. "Also, you're the first one I've delivered to, so keep this on the down low among your friends until I give them their invitations!"
"Yes, sir!" Nicole gave a mocking salute, which elicited a laugh from the Drawkionel.
"Stay safe, Nicole. I'll see you at the gala." With that, he swept through the door, closing it behind him. Stay safe? What kind of advice was that?
Jaxon Madison grabbed the mail from the lobby mailbox as he often did. It was a hefty pile, mostly comprised of hand-written fan mail from dedicated fans. As he flipped through the envelopes, he suddenly recognized the thicker envelopes in the middle of the bunch.
"Oh shit, that's this year?" Jaxon said aloud, and nodded when his mental math checked out. It was gala time once again.
"What's up?" Ross Hunter entered the room, having heard Jaxon wake minutes earlier. He looked at the pile and noticed the Accords envelopes at the top. "Oh hey, it's that time again!"
By the end of the hour, the rest of the Elite Eleven had woken up and Jaxon summoned them to the conference room. Each seat at the table featured one envelope, corresponding to where each member ended up sitting. There were excited murmurs and conversations among the guys. If there's something they never missed, it was a great party, and there's no greater party than a bunch of immortals tearing it up twice a century.
The conversations varied. Some began guessing what the venue would be, and a couple others worried that there would be a scheduling conflict. World Cup qualifiers were coming soon, and the gala was normally held right in the middle of that season, though not intentionally. Jaxon waited for everybody to get settled, and then he spoke up.
"Just like every time, let's open them together. Ready? Go!"
The Elite collectively broke the wax seals together, making a satisfying crackling noise in the meeting room. Some snatched the card right out of the envelope, while some ceremoniously slid the invitation from the folds at a slower pace. Together, they admired the sapling design on the back, and flipped to the front to read the information. There were a few gasps, a couple oohs and ahhs. Jaxon was also reading it for the first time, so he got the same relative shock as everyone else.
The gala was to be held at Elstrund.
This was big news. The Elite had once known Ellzidan very well, but that was long in the past. Most hadn't seen her since they'd returned from the maze originally, and she'd never made an appearance at a gala since they started attending them. Now that the event was being held at her very own residence, it was virtually guaranteed that she would be there as well. This was exciting for most of the Elite, but for a specific member it was daunting.
Almost too predictably, Septimus Xander spoke up. "Jax, there's no way we'll be able to make it. This date is right on a weekend in the middle of the qualifying campaign. We're either going to be offplanet or too busy to attend."
"There's no way we're missing it man, come on!" Richard immediately protested. "There's gotta be something we can do. Our perfect attendance can't go to waste now!"
"Dude, we have expectations now." Septimus jabbed a thumb in the general direction of Metropolon, where DISC was headquartered. "We can't be fucking with the World Cup schedule for a little party."
"Yeah, like this guy's got no ulterior motive," somebody muttered from across the table, but Septimus didn't catch who it was. He huffed in response, and that shut up some of the giggles.
"We'll see what our options are. Maybe we could pop in for a quick appearance if we've got a home game." Jaxon tried to calm Septimus's deepening red and maroon feelings. At worst, maybe just Sep could skip it and wallow in his own misery.
"Wait, wait!" Elias piped up suddenly. "What's the date again?" He took another look at the invitation, then looked back over at his phone.
"Oh ... oh! What are the odds?!" Ross looked over at Elias's phone, and burst out laughing when he saw it.
"What is it?" Jaxon asked, inclining his head.
"The weekend of the gala, we have a home game ..." Elias took one more confirming glance at his phone, and grinned ear to ear when he looked back up at the rest of the team. "... at Elstrund. The Root Field. The gala is the day right after the game, we'll already be there!"
The whole table broke into cheers, except for Septimus. The keeper sunk back into his chair, wearing a scowl on his face.
He was something of a legend among the avian-watching community of northern Drawkland. Seldom did this dragon fly, showing off his coat of blueish and greenish scales to those fortunate enough to catch a glimpse. Records of this particular dragon could be traced back centuries, for the peculiar crown of small, curled horns on his head was impossible to mistake for another. In a land where many intelligent dragons have met with regular people or even interact closely with Drawkian society, this one had never spoken with anyone.
Today, he flew for the first time in what felt like ages. He knew the parks where bird and dragon-watchers liked to settle, he knew the highway grid like the back of his scaly hand. He avoided those areas, deciding to glide towards a big stretch of unclaimed mountains away from prying eyes. He didn't like the publicity, he knew the news would spread like wildfire among the social media circles of Drawkian nature enthusiasts. He didn't think that sort of information would make its way to the wrong person or people, but you can never be too sure.
No, this dragon was not worried about poachers or exotic hunters tracking him down and sending a massive bolt through his golden underbelly. He wasn't worried about being tracked down by the Drawkian government and forced to pay dragon taxes or something. All of that had been taken care of many years ago. He was afraid of something much more sinister. He was afraid of
her, and though he didn't expect her to ever find him this way, he feared that more than anything else. It would be too painful, too real for him to have to think about what could've been.
Even with that anxiety gnawing within his fiery core, it was worth the risk. Being cooped up all day for months or years was simply impossible to sustain. The freedom of the air, the warmth of the thermals, the brisk of the jet streams, it was a sensation nothing could replicate. Flying really is all it's cracked up to be ... but it would be a little nicer with a friend, wouldn't it?