Cultural Exchange Ch. 01

If that wasn't overwhelming enough, in the center of the platform there was a tower, at least sixty meters wide, and so tall that no matter how much I strained my eyes, I could not see the top. The walls were made of a material I could not define, and they never stood still in the same position... as if the exterior walls of the tower were made by puzzle pieces, they were constantly moving up, down and sideways.

Looking a little more intently I noticed that the edges of each section of wall looked like the teeth of a gear, making the outside face of the structure like a gigantic clockwork device.

"Absolutely marvelous, right? Every rift in the whole world leads to this space," I was instructed by my guide's echoing voice. "Our scientists aren't able to understand even the most basic parts of how this device works, and the more concise explanations we received from the other side didn't make much more sense. The most simplified version states that this is what connects both worlds, and when you exit this surface, somehow your intentions are read and you are automatically guided to where you want to exit; be it America, France or Japan." He took out of his pocket some kind of crystal-made trinket, and after looking inside it he said, "Well, the time for chatter is over, we have an appointed date, and given that time here flows differently, we have to make haste: minutes here could mean we have made your hosts wait days for your arrival."

So we entered the tower and headed straight for the stairs, ten meters wide and made of gray stone.

The inner wall was made of the same material, with torches hanging from it at regular intervals, but the other side of the stairs had no handrail and it led to the moving wall after some meters of empty space.

What an intriguing place. If I had the time I could have spent hours examining it. But the prospect of new life and the notion that, if Gregor said the truth, an hour here could mean six decades outside kept my curiosity in check.

My legs were burning and I was panting and short of breath, given that I hadn't had much exercise lately and we had been going up what had seemed to be one hour without rest. I noticed Gregor didn't seem as busted as me, so between pants I asked him what made him different from me, and he answered briefly, "I had no time to explain you,but in this space, willpower is more important than physical energy: if you put your will in your movements, it will replace the use of your physical stamina and you'll be able to keep up the pace."

As I was not able to keep talking, I started to think about what he said... and that did the trick: instead of just moving my body, I started to think about moving my body, and that made me faster without mining my resistance.

An undetermined time later, we stopped in front of a line of signals marked with red paint on the ground and my guide turned to instruct me with the most serious expression I had ever seen in him. "This is the Turning Point, boy. Listen carefully and act as I instruct you: once you've caught your breath back, breathe deeply, keep the air in your lungs, close your eyes and steel your resolve to keep moving forward no matter what you feel." His face became even grimmer when he said, "Or you'll be forever lost in the void that prevents both worlds from colliding."

That didn't help at all to keep my nerves under control, but I did as instructed: I closed my eyes, held my breath and put my will into moving ahead.

At the beginning I didn't feel anything out of the ordinary, but then I started feeling a little dizzy. That was shortly followed by a slight pressure that increased steadily until at some point I felt like I was going upstairs while somebody tried to pour a whole river on me. My dizziness kept growing until I suddenly stopped feeling all of the previous effects.

Then I noticed that even though I was focusing on my will to move ahead, to the other side of the tower, now I was going downstairs, and light was coming from there.

This time, instead of the same platform I would have been on if had turned around, I was at the entrance of a silver tower in the clear of a forest.

Trees of a kind I have never seen projected different shades of green all over the place, with dark, short grass under them and an even darker moss on their trunks.

The area around the tower had no green, just reddish-brown sand, almost completely cleaned up of stones.

Not far from the door, several figures seemed to be waiting around a campfire, even though the weather here was like that of spring or early summer.

Many times has happened to me that some part of my mind didn't really take in the changes and circumstances around me unless I am left with no other choice than to face reality. This was one of those times.

I was starting to feel overwhelmed by the fact that I was in a completely different world, unthinkably far away from everything I knew, and was going to live for an undetermined quantity of years with these creatures. I call them creatures because aside their similarities with us, they were not humans.

As I have already said, I started to feel really nervous.

Just as they took notice of us, one of them spoke and all those who had been sitting down stood up to attention and formed up, marching towards us.

It was at that moment when I noticed that even though it was the first time I heard that language, I understood he said, "They have come!" followed by a word I couldn't understand. Right then I understood that maybe he was saying the name of his boss.

While we waited for the elves to reach us, Gregor came to my side and whispered, "Boy they regard you much more than I could imagine: they've sent an escort of seven to fetch you." I kept looking at the people that were going to be my guards: all of them obviously elves, given that their helmets had narrow triangular plates to protect the ears without hindering them. Also, males and females were easy to tell apart given that the breastplates on their female armor were modeled to accommodate their breasts.

So, right now I was seeing three males and three females. Two of the females carried long bows on their backs and a short sword at their belts, the other carried a long spear with a sharp, tear-shaped blade at one tip and a solid sphere, a little smaller than a fist, at the other. One of the males carried a spear too, and the other two were armed with swords and round shields.

Aside from the mentioned distinction between sexes, their armors were equal: campaign plates with almost no ornaments, made to be practical in actual combat. In fact, they weren't even polished: they kept the dull, dark pearled gray of the rough steel.

I was trying to find differences between them to tell them apart during the trip. The archers had brown hair, one with dark eyes and the other blue eyes. The female lancer's hair was more reddish than the other two, and her eyes were of a glowing amber tone. The male lancer and one of the swordsmen had a clear brown color to their hair, like that of the sand, both with blue eyes. The male lancer was the tallest and the most muscular of the group. The last swordsman had black hair and I noticed his storm-gray eyes were piercing me with contempt.

Then I saw the chief of the party and I couldn't see or think about anything else. Haven't you ever gone to the zoo and had the sensation that, even though you know it can shred you to pieces, you haven't been able to take your eyes off a Tiger or a Panther? The mix of fear, excitement and attraction emanating from a beautiful and stylish predator? That's what she made me feel at that moment.

Although I am in no way saying she is an animal. A book about Elves I read recently stated that as they live so long, they see most humans as nothing more than a mix between a little kid and a really smart squirrel.

She was taller than me: roughly her chin was at the height of my eyes. Her armor was lighter, made of leather with metal plates bolted to it, and it didn't cover the whole body, so I could see her belly, and the skirt made of threaded stripes of leather left the side of her hips and her thighs exposed.

She had tanned skin, and her build was athletic bordering with muscular. Although, contrary to what happens with human women, she had not lost feminine attractiveness in order to gain physical prowess: her breasts were round and full, and even though I could not see it perfectly from the front, I was sure her butt was round and firm.

If her body was not stunning enough, when I saw her face my knees staggered lightly: rosy inviting lips, high cheekbones, glowing emerald green eyes and blazing orange hair with strands of golden blonde, cut short in a boyish way and tightly tied back with a metallic diadem that left only one long forelock falling over her right eye to her jaw.

She left the rest of her group behind and approached us raising her chin in a proud and haughty demeanor. She stood in front of us and crossed her arms, which made her breasts stand out a little more (though I think that was not her intention) and spoke to my guide. "From the description I got from my lord, you must be the envoy from the governments of atop the tower." Her voice, even though slightly deep and with a hard and commanding tone, was not unpleasant. In fact, it could have been very seductive if she'd spoken in a softer way. "You two arrive later than expected, Van'Gregor, we had to wait for you all morning. If you had arrived at the appointed time, we could have made it to the city by tonight. Now we are forced to camp in the wild and reach walls by mid-morning tomorrow."

Gregor excused himself using some "traveling isn't stable yet" kind of excuse, and then searched inside his coat and took out a fold of paper and said, "Your new guest here is Brandon Cooper, Lady Ralya. I hope your people will welcome him well."

At that, Ralya frowned slightly and her look hardened, as if she considered that an insult. "We are welcoming him with an escort of seven, like an ambassador of the highest ranking."

Gregor pointed the woman to a side to talk to her more privately, so I just stood there without knowing what to do.

As minutes passed by while the "bosses" solved the paperwork about my transfer, I noticed that some elves were staring at me, so I stared back. Most of them looked other ways, but lancer-girl not only kept looking at me, but she waved hello at me with her hand and smiled broadly. I responded in the same way. Where the leader of the group had an aura of danger and beauty that appealed to your animal instincts, this one reminded me of a teenager: playful, pure and cheerful. She made me relax a little thinking that maybe Elves were not so different from us. At her gesture, the black haired elf who hadn't stop looking at me as if he had a grudge against me, punched her in the shoulder and whispered her something to make her keep her composure.

I formed the words "I'm sorry" with my lips when only she was the only one looking at me and she smiled again and gestured a "Don't worry" waving her hand while showing the tip of her tongue in a naughty way.

I heard Gregor say, "With this, I leave him in your care," and he headed towards the gate of the tower not even giving me a last look.

Then I felt momentarily abandoned and defenseless, until Ralya came to me and nodded her head in a gesture of greeting. "Veil'Brandon, allow me to be the first to welcome you to the Land of the Seven Gods."

From inside her short cape she took something wrapped inside a linen cloth and offered it to me. "Let this be a welcoming gift from the Hierarch of the Mountain Elves in person. Our young use it to pass their Coming of Age Trial, no matter male or female. I am bound to inform you that you will not be accounted as an adult among us until you have a trophy to hang from it."

I opened the wrapping carefully and found myself hanging a long knife inside a blackened leather sheath and a handle made from what seemed to be deer horn. I unsheathed it to inspect the blade: the tip was triangular with both sides sharpened, but the blade had only one edge. Neither the knife nor the sheath had any kind of engraving or ornament. It was a simple and functional hunting knife.

I tied the weapon to my belt, folding the cloth it was wrapped in to put it in the chest pocket of my shirt. "I am very thankful for this present, Miss Ralya, I promise you I will use it well."

At this, she frowned and hardened her factions and voice tone one level to answer me. "Miss? I know you are new here, but please, adhere yourself to the correct ways of addressing my kind."

Well, this is not a good start. I looked over my knowledge of medieval ways; pretty big taking in account that I have read several times my weight in books of fantasy and medieval themes, to come up with an answer that could let me save face. In the end, I put the palm of my right hand on my chest, over my heart, and bowed my head slightly to answer. "Please, don't mistake my ignorance with any kind of ill will. I have not been informed of any special ways of treatment to deal with your noble kind. I would feel honored if you could take the time to instruct me"

Her hard expression was replaced by a slightly surprised one. "Well, at least you know how to speak with some manners. I should ask you, too, to forgive my hard tone earlier." She invited me with a sharp but elegant gesture of her hand to walk by her side. "Follow me to the camp and I will give you a simplified version."

I thought it was going to be a simple as Hell version if she was gonna finish it in the twenty or so meters that separated us from their campfire.

"We add a form of treatment before the proper name of the person we are addressing to, having forms to distinguish the social standing: Dem is used with children; Veil is for normal guests and young who haven't proved themselves; Sol for males, and Sal for females are the common ways of addressing proven adults; Van is for both males and females with an important position or a standing over yours (this applies to anyone with an important status, not only Elves) and finally, Yuan is used to address the Nobility or the ruling charges."

We were nearing the camp when I asked, "What do I do if I don't know the position of the person I am addressing to?"

She nodded approvingly at my question and answered. "The most simple way is to just ask. Well, here we are. Never forget the forms of treatment unless your listener gives you permission. If that happens, it is a permission for life unless you offend or irritate said person. You will offend and irritate your listener if you take that liberty on your own, even with children."

Ralya... or should I say Van'Ralya even when I'm just thinking about her? She entered the camp speaking loud and clear. "Company, this is our protege, Veil'Brandon of the Cooper Family. He has been given his novice knife, so from now on he counts as one of our young. Treat him accordingly. On matters concerning our mission, we have been delayed by... unexpected circumstances, I've been told. So we are going to have an early meal and gain as much road as we can until the sunset. Then we will make camp and I will send one of our archers to scout the rest of the way to the city to send word of our situation and ask for a carriage for the rest of the way if possible."

Everyone sat down around the campfire and opened small bags, from which they took bread, fruit and portions of salted meat or smoked fish. Another thing to be happy about: it looked like all the stories I had read were wrong to say all Elves were vegetarian extremists.

Not seeing another choice, I sat down in another stone around the campfire. To my luck, I had Ralya to my right and that nice lancer girl to my left. Then I noticed that the tall lancer had taken off his helmet to eat... and he had beard! There was a thin gap at one side of it. At first I mistook it by a line of white hair, but it was a scar in the jaw. But the fact was that he had a thick, well groomed beard.

Didn't my books say that Elves don't grow facial or body hair? Then another reality knocked into my head: why would human legends match the reality of a world they didn't even know it existed?

That left me unsure of the real use of some of the things I had been learning.

I was looking at the fire when I was poked by a thin finger in my left shoulder. The girl was handing me one of the food bags with a big smile. God, I was starting to like this girl so much.

I took the bag and nodded at her with a smile of my own. "Thank you, er... Sal..." I left the phrase hanging to give her the chance to introduce herself.

"Oh, you can just call me Silna, forget the honorifics," she answered without the smile ever leaving her face.

"In that case you can just call me Bran."

"I thought your name was Brandon," said Silna with one eyebrow arched.

"In my land, we let friends, family and close people to use a shortened version of our proper names."

At that, her ears perked up like those of a cat, and then they came down at the same time her tanned face became hotly blushed.

Then she stuttered, "P-p-please a-allow me to do so. A-an-and please j-just call me Sil, if you please."

I had to control myself hard to not hug such a cute thing. She was starting to make me forget all of my worries about the kind of people I was gonna find.

"Then thank you for the food, Sil," I told her with a smile and in a softer tone of voice.

Well, I think I just made my first friend.

I started eating a little bread with smoked fish when I heard a voice coming a little farther from my left, and it was not talking to me. It was the black haired Elf scolding the cute Sil.

"Sal'Silna! How can you be so nice to the Qui'Leh?"

I tapped my ear with a finger, frowning at the fact that that last word hadn't been translated. A fail in the linguistic treatment?

I didn't need a translator to know he had said something bad. Everyone had tensed up waiting for my reaction, but as I didn't know exactly what he said I had no way of retorting accordingly; so I opted to stay silent and look another way, taking care not to make direct eye contact with anyone.

Well, there I had the final proof that there's every kind of people everywhere. I had found my first irrational racist.

To my left, Sil continued the discussion in an even lower tone of voice. "You have just been awfully rude to someone who doesn't deserve it, Sol'Elam! You are lucky he decided not to confront you. And by the way, I am nice to him because I want to!" She joined her hands together to keep them still, but couldn't prevent her linked fingers to fidget before following. "And he may become Nue'He in the coming days, I want him to like me."

Another word I didn't get translated. I started to doubt the effectiveness of the language pill and took note to ask for a wizard or someone capable who could look over it once we arrived in the city.

Elam opened his mouth, but before the situation could escalate, I stood up from my stone calmly, tied the knot of my supply bag and looked to my right to ask, "Van'Ralya, is there something I can do to help?"

She looked up at me and answered almost immediately. "You are our guest and our mission is to guide you to the safety of our walls, I can not order you tasks like I would do with a common soldier."

I palmed the sheath of my knife and said, "This is supposed to mark me as one of your young ones. What would you ask a young one to do in this situation?"

The frown in Ralya's expression softened a little and she looked briefly around. "I would ask you to bring sand to extinguish the fire while we adults prepare to depart, and then that you yourself get ready too."