Seven slowly blinked as he stirred awake, above him sunlight filtered in through a canopy of leaves above him, the golden green light giving the room an ethereal feeling. The branches swayed slightly with the light breeze that carried the scent of damp soil, fresh morning dew, and slight floral hints. The smell of a spring morning at first bloom.
The sight and smells were foreign and fantasy like. Even his body felt lighter, more energized, he almost didn't believe he was ever shot or wounded. Seven sat up and tried to stretch but was stopped by ropes on either arm. Seven looked at the ropes, their frayed and rough hew stung his wrists. He tried to yank on them but they were solid and unmovable.
"Well, that's not a great sign to start off with." Seven sighed. He was stuck for the moment, but where? He looked around the room he was in. It was simple yet elegant, the walls were made of what looked like tree trunks perfectly fused together to create solid walls, the furniture also seemed to be of the same, grown naturally and flawlessly from the trunks into usable items for everyday life and comfort.
Even the bed he was on was all naturally created, grown as if by magic. The smell of the air was fresh, no diesel smoke or pollution. As Seven taking in the new scenery and smells around him, a man walked in, but not like any man he'd ever seen. The man was tall, over six feet, and fair skinned, smooth with no visible blemishes.
His hair was the color of the leaves above him and his ears were long and ended in points. The only word to describe this foreign entity, was simply the definition of perfect. When the man's emerald eyes landed on Seven his face twisted to one of hatred.
"Meewa te sey! Veenah suh paiye!" The tall, beautiful man spoke in a foreign language aggressively, his face contorting in absolute hatred, ruining the image that was first created with the sudden darkness rage.
"Uh, I'm sorry?" Seven replied in confusion. From outside, voices started shouting; "Veenah ti paiye!". Seven was certain he was going to die at this point or already was. Not long after, several other tall, beautiful people arrived with spears pointed at him. Two out of the five or so walked up to either side and grabbed the ropes and yanked Seven off the bed. The ropes digging further into his skin, creating a burning sensation as the fibers stuck his skin like tiny blunt needles.
Seven hit the ground hard and the spears lunged forward, stopping only millimeters away from his neck. Slowly he was raised to his feet, the spears staying the same length away as he rose. The spears remained abnormally level and steady, though they never touched him, the bloodlust emitted pricked him like hot knifes.
"Tas navesaka enah!" A spear jabbed into Sevens back, drawing blood but also seemed to push Seven forward, so he took it as to move or follow. He felt a trickle of his blood begin to trace his spine, warm and unnerving.
"Alright, I'm moving!" Seven followed the group of angry people out of the room, all the while the spears remained pointed at him. He felt like a wild animal being marched to a short, and pathetic end.
The view that greeted Seven as he walked out of the room, was out of a fantasy story. Tall trees as wide as roads and taller than any building or infrastructure that he'd ever seen. Their branches were woven meticulously into walkways that connected well above and even seemed to house the population in their vast trunks.
Heads poked out of naturally formed holes of different sizes that looked like windows and doors, lining the trees, it looked like a hidden society forgotten over time but still thrived through the ages, remaining hidden from the world. Akin to a natural and abundant society, peacefully tranquil and prosperous.
Well above even the branch walkways, the canopy of leaves formed together and created a perfect shield from above yet let enough golden green sunlight to filter through. It was so well done, that one wouldn't be able to tell anything was above them. As Seven walked under all of these beautiful and natural things, people came out and stood above on the walkways with anger and shouted at Seven. Their words dripped with an ancient hatred so strong, he felt deep, unnatural shame.
"Sani ve buusan bei Veenah! Pectas fuh buusa!"
Whatever was being shouted, did not sound friendly in the slightest, like a primal insulting threat. The further Seven was marched the louder and more aggressive the people got, eventually a rock slammed into his head and a spear nicked his neck, yet still he was marched forward. The blood made Seven's neck itch with a sharp, uncomfortable ache.
His destination seemed to be a large opening where a single giant tree stood surrounded by pathways in all directions that were like the one, he was walking. More and more people were filling the opening area, stopping at the edges of the pathways. Though the sunlight shone brightly, the atmosphere felt darker than the depths of an uncharted cave, cold and uninviting.
The walkways above became filled as well as the shouting continued, and objects continued to hit around the group, this time being careful to not actually hit, as if the goal wasn't to harm, but humiliate. The whole procession felt like a deep seated grudge revenge, one that Seven was both a spectator and subject of. Once Seven stood in front of the single large tree in the center, a woman came out and silenced the crowd. She was also unmatchably beautiful, her hair a perfectly mottled hue of oranges and reds as if she was the manifest of autumn itself.
Her eyes the color of amber, curves unseen where Seven was from, sleek, slender, perfectly balanced and evenly flowing. Another seven women stood behind the one who silenced the people. The woman looked at Seven, but not in anger or hatred, but true, unfiltered pity. Looking upon her, something stirred inside Seven, an echo of recognition.
"Meewi, tey sey! Retu enah ti fasut! Dafsaka na feyu susa pec e suta buusat!" The woman shouted, whatever she had said made the people begin murmuring amongst themselves, a rustle of sudden confusion. But the woman continued with her momentum, determined to have her say.
"Retu, enah, casi ve buusan bei ve meewi! Meewa casi dafsaka retu fasut buusan tasa na feyu! Ve Enahwi kepi fey roheti bei ve mana buusan nakepyu pec ve buusan bei sutwi buuwi." This seemed to cause the overall atmosphere to become solemn and heavy. As if what she had said struck the rage at its core in their collective heart.
The spears dropped from Sevens neck and the bindings loosened a little, the sting more vivid as the air hit the raw wounds. The language seemed to tug at an unknown energy in Seven, a light blue glow emitted from his veins, the sight was unnatural, yet felt whole and comforting.
"Retu enahwa ti ve yusey yu feyu, e buule bei enahwa nakutas. Pa, nini feyu rosuta retu enahwa pina e kepyu-tepani meewi! Pectas fuh kepsah, tas le na fey meewi kepsah!" This seemed to be met with some discontent, but whatever she had said, brought forth guilt and resignation from the people.
Immediately, the ropes were removed, and the spears were put away. Seven rubbed his raw, bleeding wrists and was about to turn to the men who escorted him, to thank them for removing the ropes. Before he could speak, they started yanking the clothes he was wearing, off.
Though he'd never seen the clothes he was wearing, as he was preoccupied with the suddenness of everything, being suddenly stripped felt like he was about to be sacrificed or worse. So, in reflex, he spun around and sent his fist as hard as he could into the man who was holding the shirt that was just ripped off.
The tall man was caught off guard as Sevens fist caught him in the gut, but no damage was done... to the guard. But it broke Seven's hand with an audible crunch as the bones in his wrist and knuckles shattered. The crunch and squelching of the bones breaking and the joints disconnecting was audible.
"Son of a... mmmm." Seven held his hand. The guards and people looked to the woman, their faces mixed with bewilderment, anger, and yet expecting. As if they knew this was bound to be. The beautiful woman held up her hand and walked down to Seven.
"Child, we do not mean you harm, there is no need to fight." She spoke in fluent Humarian. Seven looked up in astonishment. His hand throbbed with gut wrenching pain as blood pulled through the now dis-routed paths.
"Wait, you can speak Humarian?" The woman sighed and then smiled. Seven winced again, a shattered hand was not easy to ignore.
"It would be strenuous for you if the only language spoken to you was Meewi." The woman placed her hand on Seven's and the pain slowly vanished as a comfortable energy replaced the pain. When she removed her hand, his was healed. The energy within him boiled as it greedily accepted the foreign power that healed him.
"Okay, now I'm certain I'm not on Lunarin anymore." Seven stated as he rotated and clenched his now perfectly fine hand. The pain now seemed more like a myth, as if it were simply suggested.
"You are, but in a space removed from the physical plains." The woman corrected. A folded heap of white cloth was handed to the woman and she in turn held them out to Seven.
"Wear these. The clothes you are wearing come from a time of hardship for us, but a time lost to you. I do not imagine you'd want to wear such an unbecoming uniform." The woman explained. Seven looked down and realized she was right. The clothes, or pants as it were, were gaudy and unfamiliar. Brightly colored and stained with age. They suddenly felt itchy, the fabric abrasive and unbecoming.
"What the hell am I wearing?" Seven blinked in confusion, he had been so caught up in the flow of things, he never noticed, his attention was drawn to his wrists, the burn had also disappeared, all his wounds were gone, merely phantom memories that were fading with passing time.
"Human clothes from an era before the city in the sky." The woman replied. Seven just stared blankly. From what he was continuously taught, there had always been the uppercity and undercity, constantly in a state of coexistence, and silent strife.
"Okay, that doesn't fully make sense to me, but seeing these clothes, I'm starting to not be certain of my knowledge." Seven took the white bundle from the woman and looked around, he was currently shirtless.
"Just change here. The robes you're holding now are initiation robes, it's a tradition for young Elves, meewi which also means elvish or people of the mother tree depending on how it's used, to change out of their origin in front of the people." The woman explained and taught at the same time, like a willing teacher passing on the torch of knowledge to the next generation.
"Unfortunately, that sounds like a form of humiliation where I'm from, and also, I don't want to die so, alright, I'll oblige. Just the pants though, right? Unless I was stripped of even my undergarments while I wasn't conscious? Also where did that horse go? Shouldn't I be asking more questions? Why am I just accepting this?" Seven seemed to finally be catching his bearings and things were starting to overwhelm him all at once.
"Just change." The woman commanded. Seven reddened and did as she commanded and changed in front of the elvish people. As soon as he donned the completely white robes the people put their hands to their hearts and bowed slightly with their eyes closed.
"Meewa tey retu fasut buusa, pectas fuh enahwa suta. Rosuta gesyu tesey rotas fuh rohsaka yu su kepa fuh buusa sutai." The people chanted and rose their hands from their hearts, touched their lips and faced their palms towards Seven. And just like that, the people turned away and walked away, leaving Seven alone with the eight women in the clearing. Seven felt a rapid change in the air, a warm, inviting aura that enveloped him like a blanket full of love and acceptance.
"I can go now, right?" Seven asked the woman. They all collectively shook their heads.
"No, now we raise you. Come, I will show you to the initiation attendees housing. We have much to explain." The woman motioned for Seven to follow.
"Oh boy." Seven sighed, nothing free comes good.
The place Seven was led to, seemed be a simple hut that was built directly into the ground that raised up like a small knoll. Inside was all formed the same, stone floor, wooden furniture grown lovingly from the ground. The woman sat in a chair at a simple table set and motioned for Seven to sit across from her. Seven did as he was instructed and sat.
"Let us begin by explaining why the choice was made to take you in as an initiate. You were born human; of this you know but that is as much as you know as of right now. The blood that runs through your veins is anything but today's human. You can absorb and contain mana, unlike the humans of today." Seven had a look of genuine skepticism
"You have the purest mana ever seen in any mortal being, and the fact that one of the children of mana brought you to us is an attest to that fact. To be honest, you come from a different lineage. One we elves haven't seen in our lifetime, but have heard of through our Celestial Mother, Meewa. Humans who were uncorrupted by Mammon." The name she spoke caused the sunlight to dim and the wind to halt briefly.
"He was once a great Celestial being who managed the souls who committed great evil, guiding and judging them for their eternal suffering. But, an unforeseen change happened within Mammon, he grew as dark as the souls he judged. He longed for the souls of all mortal beings. His greed grew, and his actions became more apparent, he corrupted humans to the point mana abandoned them." The woman continued her story, the very atmosphere darkened each time the name 'Mammon' was spoken.
"But, enough story time. You have echoes of ancient mana, mana so pure and refined its density has reached critical. So, for now, you will undergo initiation trials, learn the signature and composition of the mana you hold inside you. Every being born, is born with a specific signature of magic granted to them. Most elves are of the elemental type." The woman continued to dump info on Seven, but he listened intently.
"Within the signatures of magic, we classify as clans, the Elemental Clan is the holders of the first trial. Most elves are part of this clan... hmm, I shall stop here for today." The woman was explaining in detail what mana was until she suddenly stood, as if someone had called for her. As she was leaving a small, winged girl appeared next to Seven and spoke.
"She's always so nice." Seven nearly died of a heart attack as he jumped from the table. He hadn't noticed her presence at all. Everything about this place was beginning to feel fast paced, as if they had too little time for anything, including having a presence.
"Who in the hell are you?" He exclaimed. The woman stopped and turned to Seven.
"I apologize; my name is Elvidia." The woman bowed. Seven turned to her, he hadn't realized he never got her name either until then, maybe he was getting roped into their constant rush.
"What, oh, uh nice name, but I meant her." Seven pointed at the small girl with wings.
"Child, there's nothing there... Are you alright?" Elvidia looked at Seven in concern. Seven looked back, the child was gone.
"I apologize, perhaps I've not fully recovered yet." Seven apologized, he looked around, but the child was nowhere to be seen, as if she never existed in the first place.
"Very well, get some rest, try to recover as much as possible. The trials are not easy, and they certainly aren't kind either. You may go mad, or die." Elvidia casually dropped some ominous information before bowing and leaving.
"Oh great, save me to kill me later. Flawless fucking logic! Why is this place so fast paced?" Seven held his head as it began to throb, his veins glowed brighter the longer he stayed. He never felt this before, it was as if his blood was made of Celestial Condensate, the glow and color matched after all.
"It's so pretty right? Such pure mana." The child reappeared behind Seven, who in response to the sudden scare, plus the massive migraine, simply fainted from too much information in too short a time.