What a view. From up here, it’s like we can see the entire city sparkling below. The cars seem like miniature models, and the streets in the distance appear like red and white streaks of light, depending on the traffic’s direction. Beyond the city, the shadowed woods and mountains remind me that not everything on this side of the shield is artificial.
“Look through here.” Eldrath directs us to the right, and then points to circles in the glass, one roughly at Zogar’s height and one closer to mine. “This viewing spot is for children,” he tells me, “but its height should work for you.”
I smile, not in the least insulted. Elves are very tall—at least the only ones I’ve met—so I’m not shocked that I’m a similar height to their offspring.
Looking through the circular section of glass, even given the distance and the dim reddish light, the forests come into full focus. A breeze blows through the treetops, rabbits hop through the underbrush, and I spot a deer grazing on tiny plants. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Eldrath says. “While we’re in the city, it’s important for elves to see our true home. It helps us survive the urban chaos.”
“Why not just live there?” Zogar asks. “As you once did.”
“Many elves still do live in the forest,” Eldrath answers, “as do many Fae. But as Elven Overlord I often have business in the capital city, and many of our kind have grown to enjoy the conveniences of cities, so long as we can keep in touch with our true home.” He nods toward the window and the wilderness far in the distance.
“I don’t understand how or why this world is so different from my own.” I transfer my focus back to the city. “Zogar tells me that none of what I’ve seen here is magic.”
“That’s correct,” Eldrath says. “That is, nothing in this city is anillusion. But many of the things you’ve seen—my home for example—could never be made by humans.”
I nod, even though I don’t understand.
“You’re perplexed.” Eldrath smiles.
Zogar slides his arm possessively around my waist.
“I suppose I am,” I reply. “I don’t expect to understand howeverythingworks here, but I can’t even conceive thecoreof it.”
“What do you mean?” Eldrath tips his head to the side. “Do you mean how the plants and water have helped to construct my elven home?”
I draw a deep breath. “Not just that. I meaneverythinghere in the city.” I look out again, overtaken by the lights, the tall buildings, the rushing traffic.
“While science progressed here,” Zogar interjects, turning to Eldrath. “Much stayed the same in the Kingdoms of Light. Very little there changed in the four hundred years sincethe Separation.” He frowns. “In terms of inventions and conveniences, life there is much as it was before. Butotherthings there changed.”
“That is most interesting.” Eldrath nods.
“Yes.” I’m glad we share this curiosity. It’s nice to find something in common with this elven lord. “It’s as if all progress stopped in the Kingdoms of Light. Whereas here—” I gesture toward the window.
Eldrath draws a deep breath, nodding. “Perhaps something in the Light stifled scientific progress.”
“Fucking Othrix,” Zogar mutters.
“Who is Othrix?” Eldrath asks.
“The humans’ deity.”
“Oh.” Eldrath nods, as if he just had a revelation. But instead of sharing it, he gestures for us to follow him toward a grouping of chairs. He indicates that Zogar should sit in one that seems to be formed from a combination of byrch tree branches and smoothly curved metal.
Zogar sits, and the chair visibly adjusts to his proportions and weight. Still holding my hand, Zogar pulls me toward him, clearly expecting me to sit on his lap.
“I believe Queen Rosomon would be comfortable here.” Eldrath directs me toward an astonishing looking chair. The seat is clearly the top of a very large mushroom, and its back and arms are formed from branches covered in moss.
Smiling reassurance at Zogar, I pull my hand from his and sit in the mushroom chair. As I alight, it adjusts to my height andcurves around my body. “This is the most comfortable chair I’ve ever sat upon!”
Eldrath smiles and takes a seat. Like Zogar’s, Eldrath’s chair is formed from a mix of live tree branches and metal, but the metal in his chair is gold and adorned with gems, and it requires no adjustments, fitting him to perfection.
“I have another question.” I look between Zogar and Eldrath and they both nod.
“If time moves more quickly in the Light, how has four hundred years passed in both places?”
Eldrath chuckles. “Another astute question. Lymbo complicates relativity.”
