THE MAGE OF ALFHEIM lay quietly in the darkness of her study. She stared up past the knots that tied the ends of her hammock to the ceiling, past the rustling treetops, past the swift-moving clouds, and farther still into a darkness deeper than space. Neither awake nor asleep, the Mage lay still, gazing deeply into the past, back to a time that existed perhaps only in legend. She was passing through the Gates of Vattar, in the dreaming ritual that Elves practiced nightly beneath the light of the moon. In her mind's eye she saw the two most ancient Gods, Alvar and Oni. Alvar's home was the sky, Oni's was the earth. Alvar and Oni were neither male nor female, but both male and female in one body. Basking in the golden light of their separate realms, they had little need for contact with one another. But one day a flower grew along the horizon between earth and sky. It was a beautiful flower, the most beautiful thing that Alvar and Oni had never seen, and they both wanted it for themselves.
Full of desire, Alvar and Oni met at the horizon where the flower grew. They drew their daggers, both ready for a fight to the death. Alvar struck first, slaying the female half of Oni. Oni struck next, killing Alvar's male half. The two wounded Gods stood in an ocean of Blood and stared at each other. Oni was now only male, and Alvar was only female. With the realization of the horrible thing they had done, the Heavenly Warriors threw down their daggers and fell into each other's arms, in sorrow and dismay. Each of them was incomplete, imperfect, and mortal. They saw the possibility of Death. Before, the Gods had been solitary. Now each did not draw a breath without the need for the company of the other. The beautiful flower was theirs to share. From that moment on, the sky and the earth were joined. The Gods came together as male and female, and Alvar gave birth to the first Faeries born of this world.
What does the story mean? the Mage wondered. What does the legend say about the way we must live in the world, the way we must share the bounties of the earth? Is there something to be learned about the Humans, and the borders that have been breached?
A worried crowd was gathering on the branch outside the Mage's quarters. The Mage had not left her room all day, and now that darkness had descended, the Elves were anxious and fretful. "Is she all right?" the Elves cried.
"The Mage is tired," whispered Tuava-Li, getting up from her place next to the door. "All of our chanting in the Human realm exhausted her. You should all get back to your work. We must be ready for the Clan to return before the next full moon."
The Elves grumbled, shuffling their feet. "Why should we work our fingers to the bone, when the Humans are ready to destroy us?" one demanded. "Soon Alfheim will be nothing more than a memory. We haven't lived here in three hundred and sixty moons. What does it matter?"
"This business with the wedding shoe is just the first of many battles, mark my word," argued another. "What are we going to do about the Human? Will our chanting wear him down? The little magick we have isn't enough. We have to take more drastic measures, if we want to get the shoe back again."
Another Elf wagged her finger at Tuava-Li. "We have to face the facts — the Mage is old. What if she doesn't have the strength to lead us any more?"
"What would you have us do?" Tuava-Li snapped.
"We could cross the border into their realm," an Elf exclaimed, "sneak into the Human dwelling, and take the shoe by force!"
"Elves can't enter a Human's house without an invitation, you know that," Tuava-Li said. "The Mage says the Humans have forgotten that our kind exists. They tell of us in Faerie Tales, to entertain their children, but they don't believe we're real. If the Human who has possession of our shoe saw us, he'd be terrified. He'd think he'd gone mad. He would never invite us into his house and give us the shoe. Alfheim would be endangered all the more. Listen, even if we did find a way to enter his house without his invitation, the Mage says Human dwellings are full of metal and contagion. We'd be overcome long before we could find the shoe and bring it home. Don't you understand?"
"But we have to do something," cried the Elves.
"Aye," said Tuava-Li, "and we will. When the Mage is rested, she'll take us into the Human's dreams, and we'll wrest control over his actions. The shoe will be ours again, soon!"
"Well spoken, Tuava-Li," said the Mage, stepping into the moonlight. "Twice now we've called out to the Soul of the Human boy. Once during the night, and again in broad daylight. He's not strong enough to resist us for long."
"What about the machines?" argued another Elf. "We stopped some of them. But there'll be more. Alfheim will be destroyed if we do nothing to stop the Humans. We ought to tell the Synod in Ljosalfar now that we need more help — before it's too late. We can't allow another tree to fall, and the boy, and the shoe. It's all too much. Our troubles have just begun!"
"You're wrong," Tuava-Li insisted. "If our Mage didn't have the support and trust of the Synod, they wouldn't have sent us back here. We stopped the machines, didn't we? We can stop them again. You've got to be patient — and patience will help to temper your tongue with wisdom!"
"My children," soothed the Mage, "later this very night we'll return to the home of the Humans. Princess Asra will soon have her shoe. Conflict is our enemy, disharmony is what we have to fight. We don't need soldiers and armies to achieve what we desire." The Mage raised her arms as one who grasps at something just out of reach. "After all, are we not Elves?"
