Chapter 37 : The Elf That Rose
The loud sound of a hammer hitting stone is said to echo across the sea. A bang. Then silence. Followed by another, then another, then on and on again. This rhythmic beat is sometimes interrupted by a loud thud… then a gasp… then the banging starts all over again.
"Grand Elder, I'm-" a voice said.
"You seem distressed, young one," the Grand Elder said. "Be proud, Maranielle. Look what you've built."
His voice was soft, but filled with love. It had that wise, gentle tone only age can give.
They stood in a dark cave. The dripping of water slow and rhythmic. The floors were wet and slippery, jagged rocks lined the cave walls, and sharp spike-like ones clung to the ceiling where droplets would form, then fall.
"We all believe in you, Maranielle. That's why we started this. Many have fallen in the efforts that led us here."
"I know. It's just… I'm scared. Why does it have to be me? Licilia is strong and brave. Sara is bold and a master at combat. All I have is my mind. What use is that… out there?"
"Nonsense, child. It's only because of you we have any hope. It's that mind of yours that has given our people the courage to go forward one more day."
"But what if I fail? What if I can't…what if-"
The Grand Elder placed his hand on her head, a gentle brush… then a chop.
"Ow!" she yelled. "Why did you-?"
"Believe in yourself. In a world like ours, we already have enough despair from fate. We don't need any more from ourselves."
She clutched her head, her bun slipping loose, letting her brown locs fall to the side. She looked at her hands. They were shaking. She clenched her fists.
"We have little time, young Maranielle."
"I-" she began to say.
An explosion shook the room. Noise burst from deeper chambers in the cave. A landslide. The rumbling of stone crashing to the ground.
She clenched her fists tighter. The shaking stopped. She looked at her Grand Elder one last time,then ran.
She turned the corner. Elven women dressed in yellow mining jumpsuits shouted in panic.
The room she had been in opened up into a greater dome-shaped cavern, floors stacked on top of each other. Steel balconies surrounded the edges with doors and gates labeled clearly: Exit – 1st Floor, 2nd, all the way up to 110.
From above, guards in black and orange suits rushed out, peering over the balcony rails, shouting down.
Maranielle's heart raced. She didn't stop. Hidden among the crowd of elven miners, she bolted toward a door. They were on the 35th floor.
"Run, Maranielle!"
They shouted as she descended.
From the top-Floor ,110a huge explosion reverberated. The ceiling split open as stone and debris rained down, breaking steel walkways and equipment. A violent burst of water surged through, flooding down on the elves below.
"Run!"
"Run!"
"Ruuuuuun! For all of us!" they screamed, shielding her from the downpour.
One floor after the next, she ran. Down and down. Corner after corner, stair after stair. She slipped, tumbled, scraped herself raw, but made it.
Floor 25.
Alarms blared. Sirens screamed. The lights above flickered out. Only the red of emergency lights remained.
Floor 15.
"Hey, you!" Four guards ran toward her. "Stop right there! Why are you on this floor? We are in lockdown,return to your chamber!"
From behind her, three elven miners leapt at the guards.
"This is treason! What are you–?!" The guards were shoved, pushed, and launched over the balcony rails, down into the darkness.
Floor 10.
She was surrounded.
"Return upstairs, Number 443," one of them barked. "Now."
Her heart stopped.
She took a deep breath,and leapt over the railing.
Three floors. Four. Five. She was falling fast.
Bang! She landed on a central walkway, letting out a cry as water continued to pour from above.
Floor 1.
The bottom floor was a wide-open section, the ground uneven with makeshift leveled platforms. Tools, drills, and equipment scattered across the floor,massive drills ten times her size lined the corners. In one shadowy area… a trapdoor.
"There," she breathed. "Please work."
She slammed the button.
Multiple explosions erupted all around the mine. From beneath the ground, a sealed box rose and cracked open,revealing a suit.
Steel-plated. Round helmet. Reinforced arm and leg joints.
It opened.
She entered.
In that moment, the water from above cracked into the mine, flooding the entire floor. The suit came alive. Propellers blasted from its back, launching her up at incredible speed.
"Faster," she whispered.
"Faster."
She ascended rapidly, breaking through a hole in the ceiling,revealing the seafloor above.
She turned back, mesmerized. It was the first time she'd seen it from here. A sprawling maze of rusted steel,like a landfill made of ant hills, rooms stacked on rooms, all orbiting a central hill… the bottom of an island.
She soared upward, faster still, the suit's thrusters carrying her to the surface. She burst through the ocean, water trailing like a comet behind her. Then the final charge,fumes erupted, flames ignited beneath her, lifting her into the sky.
She looked down.
"I'll be right back," she whispered. "Wait for me. I won't fail."
She clenched her fists.
"I promise I won't fail."
Purpose is a funny thing. Is it set in stone the moment someone's born, or can it be shaped and grown by our own desires? Is it something real, or just a mindset we use to push ourselves toward what we truly want? Does a fixed path even exist for us, or are we the ones carving it out with our own strength and will?
And if that's true, can someone else impose a purpose onto another person through sheer will alone? Can a life be knocked off its true path ,if such a path even exists,because of someone else's passion and influence? And if that's possible… then what even is purpose?
Volume 3 – Glass Beach Begins