3. Uncharted

  They awoke to ten or so people staring at them, people with jagged ears and greyish to tanned creme faces, purple eyes armed with bows and daggers.

  “Who are you?” One voice said simply, “why are you on our shores? The ants or the Scorpion-Men could have killed you in your sleep, be glad we didn’t.”

  Madakos squinted but he saw the Elf like features and nearly gasped.

  “Stay there!” One woman said.

  She was absurdly gorgeous to Madakos, shapely beyond belief, but Madakos focused on the task at hand; staying alive.

  “I am a Warlock, renegade to all, I do not wish to harm you. I am merely gathering my magical energy.”

  “War-lock?” The woman said.

  They all looked at each other with great suspicion, these folks were washed and smelt nice, and by the looks of their shapely and muscly bodies they were not strangers to food either. Madakos sat up, rubbing the salt out of his eyes and looking at them.

  “Warlocks create their magic,” he pointed to the constructs, “I wish you no harm, just wish to create my magic.”

  The words repeated inside the Elvish looking heads endlessly, it was not something common or regular. They looked at each other, their eyes glanced from side to side, their fingers twitching, one mouth fluttering and then another before one finally erupted:

  “We should kill him!” One of the women said, “what if he brings destruction to us!”

  “He might bring… wealth,” an older man suggested.

  They were blatantly Elves.

  “Shadow Elves…” Tamura whispered, trying to educate Madakos.

  The Shadow Elves in question all looked around in confusion, they then proceeded to stare at Tamura, some even more prepared to use their weapons, the sound of metal coming out their scabbards, readying themselves to commit two executions.

  “You know of us?” One of the Elves asked.

  “A shadow of what you once were, you lost your forests, destined to live in deserts. You grow coconuts and fish,” Tamura said, not trying to be rude, it was the folk tale humans told, but it did put a sour taste in the Elves’ mouths and made them scowl.

  A few of them tutted, some even laughed, but it was in snickers and derision. The Elves wore silk and cotton garments, many having jewellery on their ears and their necks, their eyes glinted, the metal rasped in debate, debating whether these Human lives were worth sparing.

  “Yes coconuts and fish,” one of them said impatiently, “we are not fond of Humans, you bring strife, nothing but strife,” an elder hissed.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “The only reason we haven’t killed you. Warlock. Is because you were honest about your intentions and situation.”

  All the Shadow Elves eyes looked as deadly as daggers, their eyes almost as sharp as their blades, they looked down at the newcomers, the darkness shrouding their eyes, their killing intent not shrouded even a bit.

  “If you prefer I can go away from your village,” Madakos said, “I don’t have to be near you.”

  There was now furious debate among the Shadow Elves, some staring; the stage whispers grew into outright shouting. Madakos’s offer was too reasonable.

  “We are the Ena clan,” one of them said, “I think we have agreed that you will be outside our village. You can live.”

  “I will always live,” Madakos whispered.

  The beautiful Shadow Elf that Madakos admired, tutted angrily, slamming her knife into the sand.

  “You can’t possibly!”

  “He promises to leave us alone.”

  “For now!” She said, her words lingered in anger, her stare more powerful than her words.

  She was wildly gesticulating, her hips were something, she had a relatively big nose, eyes that glowered at him with anger and hatred. It was prejudice beyond anything else, and Madakos chuckled to himself.

  I can hardly blame them. Humans are hardly pure creatures.

  “Tamura, you are not cursed with my magic, so if you wish to go with them, if they desire-”

  “No.” The Shadow Elves all said unanimously, “outsiders can trade but they can’t live with us.”

  Their eyes stared at them, many faces stared at the two Humans, Madakos nodded.

  “We. Or at least I respect your wishes,” Madakos whispered in reply, his reply did not matter.

  The Shadow Elves in question went back to their homes and Madakos simply continued his Zira collection. The most hateful Shadow Elf was at the back and she caught him glimpsing at her arse, the words ‘kill him’ were almost certainly uttered.

  38 constructs soon became 42, and then 46, and then 50, which soon became 56 and then 60. Tamura begged for water and Madakos gave it, the energy he siphoned was now a smidgeon to what he was creating. 11 were hidden on the other continent, the others were arrayed here in the sands next to the beach. Ants could be seen in the distance so Madakos built one simple tower, it shot fire at them if they came too close, while he continued his investments. Tamura grilled fish, which he happily ate.

  “We need fruits as well, and vegetables, and some kind of starches,” she muttered, “just my luck that I get involved with a fucking ‘Warlock,’ fuck me.”

  “No thanks,” Madakos muttered humorously, getting a death glare in return.

  There was terrible silence after that. Madakos merely continued placing his constructs feeling the magical energy pulsate into him, remembering the Shadow Elf woman and getting all tingly. He grinned and Tamura’s face was right in front of him, gleaning information off his face and sighing.

  “Men are too easy…” she tutted and huffed, “you would think you would learn. You are hungrier than a wolf. Incredible.”

  “She’s hot what can I say,” Madakos whispered, “hotter…”

  “Hotter?” Tamura said, immediately getting the intended message, sparks of fury in her eyes.

  “Damn is the sun getting hotter,” Madakos huffed, “whew, what a day to collect magic.”

  Tamura sighed, her anger mitigated by his self awareness and stupidity, she watched constructs being erected every few minutes. Her water flask was filled, and a lone Scorpion-Man came by fried by the tower. It was an earthen construction with a crystal at the top beaming down purple flames; enough to defend against a few attackers but certainly not a large group, and definitely not a large coordinated group. Madakos piled up the constructs into a lattice, they seemingly compressed into a tight square that increased the density and therefore intensity of Zira flow. Despite only having 60 Constructs on the ground, it produced 90 Zira a second, Madakos put another 40 over the course of an hour while investing in water, mainly for Tamura, but also for himself. He had 111, producing 131 Zira, soon enough he had enough constructs to have another set of 60, once again the Zira density was increased by 50%, 191 Zira flowed inside of him, the magic was becoming a beacon for his enemies, creatures nearby becoming aware of him. Too aware.