[Void Jumpers: Volume 1: Between all Worlds. Chapter Negative 2: Pel Ironleaf becomes the Hero.]
[Void Jumpers begins with a three chapter section called The Preginning hence the chapter being Negative 2, and not 1.]
Everything about Pel’s story was typical. Everything about Pel’s fantastical world was fantastically mundane in its fantasticality. In the stories of their childhood, of dark lords and castles, dragons, wizards, and magic, certain aspects of life had become expected. And, of course, like the stories of their childhood, Pel’s begins in quite the same place. The journey ahead of them was clear and cliché, and their heroic destiny was certain. They could have never guessed that their story was about to end, all before it could get the chance to properly begin.
~ ~ ~
Warm and quiet mornings outside the forested edge of Resno were a sign of the peace the world of Elderia had achieved and hoped to maintain. Though, not too far over the hill sat waiting in the Elven inner-city was a task of utmost importance. The world depended on it.
On the outskirts, where the village houses were scattered, a lonely blacksmith shop held within it a hero-to-be. At the top floor, hidden behind the old blue shingles of the roof, grown over with moss, Pel Ironleaf stood in the attic.
Artifacts littered their bedroom. Artifacts, of course, meaning stones smoothed over by a river, shells left empty at the seashore, and old childhood toys – like a slingshot and an Elvish-Steel throwing knife.
As much as this house was homely, it was never truly home. The outside world had so much more to offer. It was vast, endless.
Nowhere could possibly be more expansive, more endless, than the mountainous lands and ravenous seas of Elderia. Pel knew this to be true, for Elderia was the end-all-be-all. It was all that existed, all that mattered.
“So you’re going to go through with it then?” Alexander Ironleaf, the Blacksmith, asked.
“Oh, honey. Won’t it be dangerous?” Licia Ironleaf, former Elven Sentry, held out her hand in a futile attempt to stop her young spring from acting on a destiny they had chosen long ago.
Pel said nothing as they readied their rucksack over their shoulder. They looked into their mother’s eyes.
Licia’s face was slender and shapely, strikingly beautiful. Pel shared the same refined facial features as their three-hundred-forty-year-old Elven mother, and the same deep brown hair, dropping down to the shoulders. They shared the same pointed ears.
Pel’s gaze shifted to their father.
Alexander took a deep breath. He knew the destiny Pel had chosen.
Pel smiled. Their freckled smile was the same as their sixty-two-year-old human father’s, though it was hard to tell, as Alexander’s was hidden beneath a bushy orange beard. Their bright green eyes however clearly linked the two. Pel the Elf was assuredly the offspring of Alexander the Human.
In the typical setting of Elderia, Pel was atypical in that matter. They were half Elf, half Human; a rare heritage. They shared the qualities of their parents in equal parts, and they seemed all at once as beautiful as they were handsome. Pel’s striking looks were a lucky accident. Maintaining a certain androgyny with their appearance was important to Pel, and it had been for most of their young life.
“You know I must help my friends,” Pel spoke up with their raspy voice. They shifted to their work desk. A bow and a quiver rested against it, and on the desk sat a note, wet with fresh ink. Pel glanced over their shoulder at their father. “Randolph the Beige would never forgive me if I were to cower and not lend my talents to the fellowship.”
“I don’t much like that wizard anyway,” Licia scoffed.
“You do promise you’ll be careful?” the Blacksmith asked, holding his hands folded nervously in one another.
Pel looked back. “You don’t trust me.”
Pel’s mother smiled, hiding her true emotions, and her eyes watered. Alexander held her shoulders.
Pel stood in their room before their parents, bow in hand. They took a deep breath. “The world depends on the fellowship,” they said. “The fellowship depends on me. I have to take initiative now, or there won’t be an Elderia left for me to explore once the fight is done.”
“But you’re so young,” Alexander pled.
“I’m twenty-two,” Pel smiled.
“Barely a child,” Licia concurred with Alexander.
Pel laughed. They took one last good glance at their room. “Well, I’m already late. No good in goodbyes if we’re going to be crying through them.”
Pel took the note off the desk and handed it to their parents. The second the note changed hands, Pel was off. They ran downstairs, and bolted out of the door, grabbing an apple off the table quickly before leaving. Pel’s dog barked at them as they bolted for the inner city.
“Goodbye, Strider!” Pel yelled out to their white wolfish dog, playing under the apple tree. A spring in Pel’s step carried them away with excitement, but a weight of dread on their shoulders held them back.
Pel was not tied to the coming conflict in any meaningful way. They had volunteered for goodness’ sake.
They simply had to do the right thing.
Fighting to vanquish evil was usually as simple as that. Pel had convinced themself that they were no exception.
Alexander and Licia Ironleaf unfolded Pel’s letter, teary eyed, and they read it.
I’ve left now. Don’t miss me. Don’t wait on my return. Communication will be sparse in the coming conflict. Expect that I shall not make it back. My time to leave the nest has come. When Elderia is saved, expect that I will not return home. I’m going to explore these lands when I get the chance.
The history of Elderia is vast and shrouded in darkness. The ring was forgotten, lost to time, until it was found again. Evil persists, despite how many times it has been vanquished. When the Dark Lord is defeated, I will find whatever darkness allowed for his presence and destroy it. I will bring peace. I owe it to myself to try.
And so, with this lofty quest, I shall not return. Do not weep. Do not mourn my absence. If you fear that I have died, fear not. If it helps, simply envision me on my eternal quest. This is my destiny; one I had chosen long ago. Be happy.
Goodbye.
With love,
your Little Leaf.
Pel was well aware of their mortality, of the danger inherent in the journey to come. Despite being an immortal half-Elf, Pel was not invulnerable. The only thing that couldn’t kill Pel was age. They were fully aware that the adventure on which they were about to embark would mean their demise, one way or another. They were expecting the worst.
~ ~ ~
“We have the ring; all we must do is remove it from this world and the Dark Lord will be powerless.” A stupidly confident, short, and fat, bearded Dwarf dressed in vaguely medieval garb bellowed.
Outside, in a peaceful courtyard within Resno, a round table full of fantastical members of a particularly important fellowship gathered.
“One does not simply destroy the ring of power, not unless they hope to be destroyed themselves,” a rugged man reminded the group.
“I would gladly sacrifice myself to save Elderia from darkness,” Pel spoke up. They stood out in the group as the tallest of the bunch and as the only Elf.
“You’re a part of the fellowship, now, Pel. Your sacrifice cannot be condoned by those who wish to call themselves your friends,” a wise old wizard attempted to speak some sense into the young Elf. “It matters not if it is for all of Elderia, for all of Elderia would not be the same without all of our friends.”
A short young boy stood to assert himself among a crowd with which he did not seem to fit in. He slammed the very ring of power the group was speaking of on the table in front of them. “Then I will do it. I will take the ring to the fires it was forged in and destroy it—”
Pel’s eyes narrowed. A ringing in their ear caused them to twitch.
“No!” the fat bearded fellow was about to disagree, when Pel interrupted his interruption.
“Do you hear that?” Pel drew their bow and stood straighter. Their pointed ears twinged ever so slightly, attuned to the mere change of the wind’s direction. They twitched their head around, searching for the source of the noise.
“Goblins?” the young boy asked with a shivering fear in his voice.
“No… something… unnatural,” Pel waited, their ears pointed ahead, listening, their brows furrowed in confused thought, trying to figure out the nature of the noise.
A piercing shriek punched through the air with an accompanying thunderous boom that penetrated Pel’s ears. They fell to their knees, writhing in pain.
“Pel!?” the young boy cried out.
Pel struggled to look up in the direction of the noise, then pointed their arrow to strike.
Before the group, in the distance, crashed on a bridge which crossed a quaint stream in the idyllic Elven city of Resno, a strange thing loomed.
A large oddly shaped dark metal object rested on the bridge. Smoke emanated off it, like embers off a dragon’s scales. It was unlike anything ever seen in all of Elderia’s history.
It opened with a steaming hiss.
The object revealed from within it, a ghoulish, mangled, alien figure. The creature limped out of the ship and stepped with six heavy taloned feet onto the bridge.
Pitch black exoskeletal metallic flesh armored the creature, from its birdlike talons all the way to the point where its head and neck met.
The head was strikingly white, whiter than the snow of the distant lone mountain. Its short pale face unsettled the fellowship. Its round head appeared skull-like, though, not the skull of any creature known by Man, Dwarf, or Elf. Its empty eyes, long and narrow, scanned the fellowship with a calculating gaze. Its skull-like head was the most pristine part of the creature, smooth, shining like polished marble.
Its body was a mess of shadow, difficult to discern its shape, protected by haphazard scraps of metal.
The forelimbs of the six-limbed creature gripped the ground, feeling the cracks between the cobblestones, getting a sense of the strange world it had invaded.
The front of the alien’s body lifted, and the forelimbs became forearms. The creature held itself in a pose akin to a centaur, at least Pel rationalized it as such. Nothing about this creature was natural.
“Is it a friend, or foe?” Pel asked the fellowship with a shaky voice.
“A friend would not have scuffed the ancient roads of Resno,” the wizard said.
The young boy of the fellowship held his hand over the handle of his sword, ready to draw it.
The alien’s eyes locked on the young boy, and then its attention shifted to the ring of power, sitting on the round table behind him.
The Dwarf readied his battle-axe. “Aye. That’s no Goblin. I don’t know what it is,” he grumbled. “Which means it’s a foe!”
Pel let their arrow fly, sending it with pinpoint accuracy into the thin right eye socket of the hideous creature. The arrow struck with a twang, hitting the back of the alien’s skull.
The creature flinched, holding its strong arms to its face, and recoiling slightly.
“Nice shot, Pel!” the wizard commended them.
Pel’s face was colored not with satisfaction, but with concern. “Go, Lono. Take the ring. Run.”
“What?”
The alien hissed, almost mockingly. It lifted a large middle claw on its hand, and struck it against the arrow, ripping it from its long skull. It was unaffected by the shot to the eye.
“GUARDS!” Pel yelled out.
Swaths of Sentry Elves manned their stations at beacon points across the city. Warriors on foot rushed to the bridge with swords forged of magic steel.
The alien lowered its body and pressed its arms to the ground. It crawled forward, snaking with its body close to the street like a lizard, dragging behind it a long tail that ended in flukes like that of a fish. Its body jittered as it slithered, twitching uncontrollably.
Lono took the ring, placed it in his pocket, and searched for a place to run. He paused.
“Mr. Lono, there’s no way out!” the young boy’s friend called out. “We’re doomed.”
Lono looked back with fear in his eyes.
Pel pulled on the string of their bow and fired arrow after arrow, in sync with their Elven comrades across the city. A constant barrage of arrows led to some lodging themselves into the alien, alas, to no effect. Most of the arrows simply bounced off.
“This is some sort of dragon,” a man in the fellowship commented.
Pel shook their head. “I’ve studied dragons; this is no creature of Elderia.”
The friendly wizard stood and readied his magical staff. “YOU, SHAN’T, CROSS!” he roared. He smashed the staff into the ground, and a shockwave of light burst from its crystal tip. The bridge collapsed.
As the bridge crumbled, the alien leapt from it. It spread its six limbs wide, and between them a flap of skin extended. The creature glided, bridging the gap, and landed in front of the fellowship. Its upper body rose as the beast menaced over them; its arms held out wide.
“It crossed,” the Dwarf remarked.
The creature turned its head to Lono and hissed.
It picked the boy up with its forearms.
“NO!” Lono’s friend called out.
Pel’s gaze turned curious. They had a knack for seeing the intention in someone’s eyes, and though this creature was alien, they could tell that it meant no harm, at least to them, in that very moment. Its intent was to retrieve.
The creature looked past Lono and grasped the ring off the table with another of its limbs.
Lono lifted his sword and swung it haphazardly as he hung upside-down in the creature’s grasp.
The fellowship stood around in fear, cowering in the shadow of the creature’s presence.
Behind the creature’s eyes, a glow of fiery orange locked its focus on the ring, as if the very pupil of the alien was a flaming core of molten lava. The fire pulsated in excitement, staring at its prize. The creature slipped the ring into a pocket at its wrist.
Lono swung the sword at the creature. The alien turned its attention back to the boy as he swung, and it lifted an arm to catch the blade between its talons.
A ringing echo of metal hitting against the skin of the beast reverberated in Pel’s sensitive ears. The alien hissed and dropped the boy. It turned to leave.
“The ring!” the rugged man called out.
“He didn’t kill me…” Lono patted himself down.
“Well, he’s no Goblin,” the Dwarf commented.
“We can’t just let him walk away with the ring…” the rugged man sputtered. “One does not simply walk away with the ring!”
Pel stood, holding their ears. Their heart pounded, the blood rushed through their head, thumping in their ears. They held their arms out at their side and shook them. They knew what needed to be done.
“Pel, no,” the friendly wizard understood what Pel would do. “Pel.”
“I have to try.” Pel started after the creature. It quickly took notice.
The alien sprung a chase, and Pel followed closely after it, achieving impressive speeds as they dashed with their arms swinging.
Pel’s heart pounded harder. The only way to stop the beast would be to engage in close combat, something Pel was not particularly good at.
As the creature prepared to jump across the gap left in the destroyed bridge, Pel charged a jump and leapt onto the creature’s back as it had launched itself. Pel rode the beast to the other end of the bridge.
They wrapped their arm around the creature’s neck, attempting to choke it. The alien landed and tore Pel from its body, throwing them to the capsule that the creature used to travel to this world.
Pel hit the inside of the ship with a thud. The breath was knocked out of them as the force of the throw pained their bones. This was exactly why they feared close combat. Elves tended toward ranged weaponry for a reason; they were frail, and hollow-boned.
Pel groaned as they tried to drum up the strength needed to lift themselves from the ship that they now found themself stuck in.
The creature followed and entered the vehicle, disgusted at Pel’s presence, but in a hurry to escape. The creature kicked the ship into gear. The capsule rose into the sky.
Pel withdrew a small knife and stabbed at the leg of the creature that sat on top of them. The knife passed through pitch black tendon-like flesh.
The creature did not flinch. Pel’s ears rang with an excruciating sting as they felt their stomach drop. A moment of weightlessness took hold as a pounding pressure in the poor Elf’s head forced them to scream. The shrieking wail of the sky ripping apart tore Pel’s eyes open with an urgent curiosity. For a moment, the violence of the transport had ceased. An unusual calmness took hold.
The view was strange from inside the creature’s capsule. Pel was squeezed in behind the alien, stuck in an awkward place. The alien appeared as annoyed as Pel was with the situation they had found themselves in.
Pel couldn’t focus on the alien. The view from outside the capsule, through the glass, was something unlike anything they had ever seen.
Blue and purple clouds and a striking orange sea of light passed them by in a frenzy. Pel was entranced, distracted from their gaze only by the sudden sparking of what looked to be bright green lightning.
Pel flinched as the capsule wailed another horrific shriek. The Elf winced as they felt nauseous once more. The capsule descended from the dark sky to a cave entrance on a remote island in a dark vast ocean.
It quickly landed and Pel was tossed from the ship, where they crashed with a thud on the cold rocky ground, outside the entrance to a dark cave.
Crashing waves exploded into mist as they hit the rocky edge of the barren island. Pel gasped, holding their ribs as they throbbed with waves of searing pain. Their hair stuck to their face as it was drenched with a violent downpour of frostbitten rain.
Terrible hisses and confused growling surrounded the Elf on all sides as creatures like the one that had stolen the ring stood about, patiently awaiting their comrade.
The darkness of the night masked the thieving aliens’ shapes, hiding them in shadow, but their bright white heads stood out, floating around Pel, haunting them with their ghostly visage.
They hissed and snapped at Pel.
Lightning shattered the air, and the brief light allowed Pel the chance to see the melting stars of the broken skies, infested with flying demons bearing golden wings, their screeches filling the air. Space itself seemed to cry through ancient wounds. Pel was not in Elderia anymore – but in a place far more forsaken.
The ring thief alien appeared behind Pel and kicked them as more lightning struck into the dark ocean.
The aliens chuckled with echoing hisses.
Pel was kicked around a few more times before the alien barked a demand at another of its kind.
An alien stared at Pel with an intense gaze. Their glowing orange eyes glowed brighter, and a steamy hiss built up with power behind the glow.
Fear pulled at Pel’s heart. They stood and withdrew their bow, quickly firing an arrow. It bounced off the opposing creature as it flinched, sending beams of burning orange light from their eyes into the sky.
Pel screamed as they forced themself to stand straighter. They bolted for the capsule they had arrived in, limping as fast as they could.
“AGH!” Pel screamed. Their head pounded as they tried their best not to collapse from the pain.
“HISS!” The thief realized what Pel had in mind.
The alien tried to blast at Pel again, missing as Pel grabbed onto the edge of the cockpit of the small capsule ship and forced themself over and into the seat. The canopy automatically closed.
The thief approached, ready to remove Pel from the capsule and from the living realm. Pel stared at the complicated and confusing panel of shapes and levers at the helm of the capsule. This wasn’t a form of magic they were familiar with.
They pulled back on a lever.
The capsule spun around. A blast of dragon’s breath burst from the rear of the capsule with a roar.
“HISS!” The thief held up their arm to stave off the flames. Two wings of an expandable round shield extended from the creature’s arm to aid in the protection from the exhaust.
Pel slammed their hand on the helm and closed their eyes. The capsule bolted into the sky and vanished through another wound in space with an accompanying shriek that ripped at Pel’s sensitive ears.
The capsule shook and jittered as more lightning crashed outside. Pel squinted and screamed as the bright light blinded them. Their stomach flipped as nausea consumed them again.
A shriek blasted as the capsule burst into a brand-new sky. Pel caught their breath. Not a moment of levity was awarded for their escape. The ship was falling from the clouds, and it was picking up speed.
There was no stopping the inevitable.
The capsule crashed into a pile of garbage, only softening the blow as much as a pile of garbage could. It skidded and drifted into a road of sorts and finally came to a stop as it wedged itself in an alley between two run-down buildings.
Pel was tossed around inside the capsule. They held their head and cried as they struggled for breath. Pel kicked open the capsule and stumbled out of it, gasping for air, broken, and bruised. Their long hair stuck to their sweaty face.
Pel stumbled onto a sidewalk and curled themselves up, crying. Footsteps passed Pel by. No one acknowledged their presence. They recouped, catching their breath, sitting up to get a good look of their surroundings. They held their head.
“What the Hells…” Pel groaned. They pushed the hair out of their face.
All around the stranded Elf, a crazy world towered to the dark sky of the night. Towers of concrete, metal, and glass, intersecting lanes of flying objects, countless variety of alien life and metal beings littered the streets of the city’s underbelly.
Colorful lights lined the buildings and bright flashing signs signaled to the many inhabitants of this place. A pair of moons glistened in the distant starry sky.
A nebula of gassy clouds danced in a spot in the sky heavily trafficked by green draconic serpents, swimming through the air. Sparks of electricity jittered between the serpents’ heads as they communicated with one another. They moved out of the way, letting a flying object blaring with sirens pass by.
The bruised and battered Elf, dressed in muted green forest-wear, equipped with a bag of camping gear, a bow, and a quiver with a few arrows, was quite obviously out of place in this strange new world.
The ring of all mighty power, the focus of the fellowships’ entire lives, was now gone and meaningless. Pel was lost, and without hope. They had no idea what had just happened to them.
They were right to have assumed that they would never return home. Though they could have never guessed the reason.
They would have to make their way in this new world, alone, and confused. Pel didn’t know where to start. They were nudged as a metallic passerby tripped on them.
“Hey! Watch where you’re sulkin’! I’ve got snorps to deliver!”
At least the locals spoke Pel’s language. That was lucky.
