“It’s all my fault!” Sar sobbed.

“What?” Kavaraa asked.

“It’s all my fault,” Sar repeated.

“Look, Sar. Things like this happen all the time,” Kerhet paused. “It’s just not usually this bad.”

“It’s not your fault,” Kinket said. “It’s Nilpoj’s. Now let’s stop being sad and start getting things done!”

The room suddenly became very bright, then returned to darkness. Slowly, a small glow appeared in the corner of the room, then became slightly larger, but the rest of the room was still completely dark.

“Who did that?” Kinket asked. “What is it anyway?”

A small, high pitched voice replied from the corner, “Who’s there.”

“Who’s there?” asked Guiden.

“Who’s here,” the voice responded.

“Who?” Guiden asked again.

“Who,” answered the voice.

“Who are you? Why are you here?” Alerakshar asked.

“Who is me. Why is not here. Just Who,” the voice replied.

Alerakshar sighed. This was a strange time to make a joke.

“Unless it isn’t a joke…” Alerakshar thought out loud.

“Who’s here. Not it,” corrected the voice.

A look of understanding shot across Sar’s face, although nobody saw it because the room was dark.

“Who, have you come to help us?” he asked.

“Who has come to help you,” the voice answered.

“How are you going to help us?” Sar continued.

“No, who,” the voice corrected.

The glow in the corner, although expanding very slowly, was at least a yard wide. It became brighter, then flickered back to its previous faint glow.

“Who, how can you help us?” Kavaraa suddenly understood what was going on.

“IMAGINATION!” the voice screamed in a whisper. “IMAAAAAAA-GIN-A-TION.”

Sar recalled hearing something like what the voice had just whispered from the television that the humans watched. He just couldn’t put his finger on what show it was from.

“And how exactly is imagination going to help us?” Guiden was discouraged.

“Who will help you imagine,” the voice stated.

Sar understood what the voice was talking about. He imagined the room as it was before the power had gone out. There was a loud electric noise, then the lights flickered back on, although very dimly.

Guiden understood as well when the lights began to glow. He imagined the room as well, and the lights became brighter. Now, there was enough light to see Guiden and Sar with their eyes tightly shut, deep in concentration.

The rest of the elf officials concentrated as well, and the lights glowed brighter and brighter until they were back to their original brightness.

“Good job! Who likes where this is going!” the voice from the corner said in a hoarse shout.

Sar opened his eyes and looked at the corner where the light had been coming from before. It was still glowing with a soft light from nowhere, even brighter than its surroundings.

One by one, the elf officials opened their eyes. The lights in the room stayed on, and the computers began to boot up.

“Let’s go save Skyda and Savakt!” Alerakshar said happily.

If it were possible for a sad look to move across a glowing nothing, it did.

“Who does not want to go outside. Look!” the glow seemed to point at one of the computers, which was showing a picture of the outside of the castle.

The picture moved backwards through time, displaying images that would have been captured if there was power to the cameras – but the images were there, that could not be denied.

The deaths of Skyda and Savakt played on the computer screen. Then, the door began to dent from the inside. Tamnardav appeared through a small hole in the door and was attacked by a miniature tornado, spewing fire every which way.

Then, the tornado dropped Tamnardav onto the hard stone entrance to the castle and disappeared.

“Who knows when the danger will come back?” the voice asked its first question.

“When?” everyone asked simultaneously.

“Who knows?” the voice asked again.

Suddenly, the glow of white light turned red and the voice became much lower.

“Who knows?” it said clearly. It was distinctly evil.

The voice pounded inside the head of each elf.

“Did you really think you would get out of here alive?”

Nilpoj materialized where the light had been.

“Not likely,” she hissed.

The lights exploded and the computers came to a halt.

In a rage, she ran through a portal and past the many technicians who were now staring helplessly at their powerless computers. She passed countless security checkpoints without anyone stopping her because it was too dark for them to see. She turned a corner and crashed into a giant metal door. She tore at the door with all her strength, but it would not budge. She hadn’t even made a scratch. She tried breathing fire on it, but was immediately submerged in fire-resistant foam.

Frantically, she ran head first into the door, creating a large dent. Although her head hurt, she knew she was getting closer to her lost friends and bashed the door again. On the third try, the door was bent out of shape to a point where she could squeeze through the opening. As soon as she was through, she felt a cold gust of wind, cold in a way she had never felt before.

“You’re a bit late, little dragon,” the voice that had haunted Skyda had now moved to Tamnardav’s head.

“Who are you? What have you done to my friends?!” Tamnardav hissed at the voice.

The cold feeling encircled Tamnardav, pounding at her head, forcing her down onto her knees. The pillar that had crushed Skyda turned transparent, and she could see the mangled corpse of one of her friends.

“What have you done to him?” she screamed.

The only answer was the wind, forcing Tamnardav closer to the ground. Savakt rose up from the ground where he had been lying, just out of sight. He was definitely dead, with blood soaking into his clothes. The voice returned.

“Your friends were in my way. Nobody gets in my way and lives.”

The wind became colder and colder, circling faster and faster. Tamnardav’s instincts kicked in, as fire spewed out of her mouth. She spun around, trying to burn the wind, but it would not stop. She tried to run away from it, but it was too fast to be outrun.

Exhausted and out of breath, Tamnardav stopped. She sat down and sobbed to herself. All was lost. There was nothing she could do.

Suddenly, the wind stopped, as if her crying had defeated it. She stood up, shook the ice off of herself, and walked over to Skyda to see if she could save him the same way.

But it was only the eye of the storm.

Savakt did not reply.

“Hmm, lost your little friend, Skyda?” a voice came from inside his head.

“Who are you?”

“I’m just a little voice in your head.”

“How did you get in there? Get out!”

“I’m afraid that isn’t your choice. I’ve decided to be in your head, and now I’m in control.”

“You can never win! My magic is too strong!”

“What magic?”

Skyda tried to call his magic, but it wouldn’t come.

“Oh, your magic won’t come? That’s too bad. I guess I’ll just stay in your head forever.”

Skyda heard a crash. He looked up and saw a giant stone pillar shatter like glass.

He tried to run away, but he was no longer able to move. Here he was, frozen in place, with a giant pillar about to crush him. His life was flashing before his eyes. Everything was moving in slow motion.

“Oh, I’m afraid you’re going to die, Skyda,” the voice continued in monotone.

“It’s all a dream! It’s all a dream! Please, let it be a dream!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Skyda, but this is real. Savakt is gone and you’re next. Good luck getting away.”

The voice vanished. Skyda tried to run away again, but it was too late. He was crushed under the pillar. His magic tried to heal him, but the damage was too severe. Skyda and Savakt had breathed their last breaths.

“They could have both died of heart attacks by some strange coincidence, part of the building could have collapsed on them… No,” he thought, “It must have been murder or an equipment malfunction. The screams remove all but one possibility: We’re under attack.”

“Kerhet!  Alerakshar!  Guiden!  Kinket!  Come quick!” Kavaraa shrieked.

“What is it?” Kinket yelled. Then he saw the computer screen that Kavaraa was staring at and fainted.

“Alblixtned help us!” Kerhet screamed.

Guiden sat down heavily in a chair. “Great. Just great.”

Alerakshar knew exactly who the ID numbers were pointing to. It was his two favorite guards. “No!  Not Skyda and Savakt!”

“Skyda and Savakt?” Sar had heard only those words. He knew exactly who they were. The guards that had been so kind to him were the first to be in trouble.

Kavaraa opened a video feed to the nearest security camera to Skyda and Savakt. All he could see was static. The camera must have been broken by whatever killed Skyda and Savakt. He opened a video feed to a camera higher up on the building. As he pointed the camera to face where Skyda and Savakt were on duty, the situation seemed grimmer and grimmer.

Skyda was lying on the ground with only his arm and a bit of his head visible. The rest of him was crushed under a pillar that had fallen. Savakt was nowhere to be seen. There was blood everywhere. Suddenly, the video feed went blank. While Kavaraa was trying to figure out what had happened, the entire screen went blank. The lights flickered out, the humming of computers slowed to a stop. The power was out. They were under attack.

“Hello, Avicenna,” I said, my voice layered with a hypnotic felatr, “I am your daughter, Joplin.”

“Daughter… Joplin… My daughter…” Avicenna repeated. “Where have you been?” she asked, wavering under the power of my felatr.

“I have been here the whole time, mother. Don’t let those crazy neighbors‘ stories fool you.”

She nodded drowsily. “Here… The whole… Time…”

“I’ll go play with my sister, Akita now.”

Avicenna fell to the ground as I stopped using my felatr on her.

“Who are you?”

“Don’t you remember your own sister?” I switched my felatr on. “I’m Joplin!”

“Sister… Joplin…”

This went on for quite a while. The years passed. Soon, I had full control over Akita, and nobody ever expected anything.

The elf boy continued to observe my actions every day. He never once assumed that I, too was an elf, so I laid my plan into action: to be supreme commander of the elves, I would need to get rid of the current supreme commander, Alerakshar. Who better to defeat the elves than the humans? It would be a humiliating defeat for such an advanced civilization to be defeated by such a basic one. With the last of my magic, I turned Akita around to face the boy and forced him to sneeze, thus de-shielding him. I made a mental note of two things: 1, I would need to recharge my magic rather soon, and 2, the boy’s name was Sor Sobran or something like that; it was written in messy human writing on a name tag.

I taught Akita about an elf I had “made up” named Sir Soybean. I was careful to teach her only when the real Sor Sobran was not around, so he would suspect nothing until it was too late.

With the computers at 98% of their almost infinite CPU power and over a googolplex of RAM each, it took only a few milliseconds for each mind to be read and processed. In under a minute, the computers had finished working.

“Okay,” said Alerakshar, “let’s see what we have.”

Akita had mostly memories that were normal for a human girl of her age, the same was true with Avicenna. Joplin, however, had memories that only an elf could have.

She had pictures of elven lands in her memory, along with a complete knowledge of how to ride a dragon, and more magical spells than Guiden knew off the top of his head (which was quite a lot).

“Joplin must be an elf,” said Kavaraa, “but we can’t just go out and start a war on human lands.”

“It seems that we have some sort of code in Joplin’s brain,” said Kerhet, “I think we’ll need to solve it before we go do anything else.”

“Quite agreed,” said Kavaraa, “I’ll get the computers solving it right away.”

The computers loaded the section of Joplin’s mind that Kerhet had pointed out and began to decode it. The code began to scroll across the screen:

00019691000192eb48bac2a2a90c07b3b867ef7472e377c4114f6a9fb511cb3590f85556392c7ec310df8b3de05f543597d580ab66505b1c52fe232974c621deb693a3ad398a60375861bf009411c475c495c76dbcd2beb11b71d11d68793689b1a1206830f0917695679a576b2547a014f73dcf8a865fd8ae8cd456d5aff13d59f59699ea21fac131126fc81d6a86a949bc7ebcf1481b4e053fbb7caec48cc1a497f79605b835865d73130fc65f3e271ce374f3ba420d5ddd05e817a45ea48964564fd548dfbc6ea897d76e446f32d13fa667436a26af0379ab720340a541946b40200926e28d873cd92aa3d2ecc12d82d030189169a7a6cfb997ab036d82c6a722080244ea0641d71984d114a8ffabc39619015cc019a0265939cf98a520d99e0fdd64d679d07ed12af15ef84ba6b12f970d0a40734063bc6197b8bcc8e041633c78f37607d21a843bc588d7d51ce452f0145fb1ba9cc3f7f0d330a7dee3e1dd46b193a8f133e08a65b683c0b163e9f1935ce3862a60a49dfd0d2031cb6ca44a03881c03fd7f5529c5d19600a40f04fb45eb3fc0aa901af9cd637ba7709db238f391c62d8e7dfdab1cca9c17ef2948c5761efad20fa62787c563578d1ed31603936694ce9c0bc4540c6cd28ffc23a03bab78f795b72a567632627498d28b193da082163501719039355feb0b5d8d2096cac3c41e53a0e1f9b959c9a2771ac2e66fcb12b558326068aac65da25fad5ef917a487e23baf7dd60d90268e834c50eb811903568b4fd3117902f771e84c45b52d627324ba3208038b56e9abed96a6069df3c81f78601c012b4ea9480faae7a07f063b5784f5cb48f8a57aed17a29d05f11c27811200658170763e1ac1deb40575e8173b8a1bb75bf1848a5a4b63bfabca3e12d9e81c09259315f0e2f813cf68fd1e5e7eeee124b17987c49c32840cb0ff73804f43135c754d8661442978d5

“That looks like gibberish,” groaned Sar.

“No, it’s hexidecimal,” corrected Kavaraa, “Computer, convert hexidecimal to text.”

“That looks like gibberish,” said Sar.

“Computer, undo and convert to base64,” commanded Kavaraa. “It must be blowfish or something,” he added.

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×1TYZhRCl41Q==

“Computer, bruteforce blowfish,” Kavaraa commanded.

After trying over eight billion password possibilities, a decoded message finally appeared on the screen.

PASSWORD CRACKED: Nilpoj

I know that nobody will be able to read my memories if I make them unreadable, so I will do just that. I have removed all my weaknesses from my memories and replaced them with fake thoughts. If anyone ever finds out about me, they’ll have no chance of winning even if they look into my mind. This part will look like corrupted data to anyone who comes near looking at it.

Nobody will ever know how to defeat me, and while they’re trying to figure it out, I will be brainwashing the entire human race, starting with these two. I’ve already convinced Avicenna that I am her daughter, I am in full command of Akita, and I have more magic than all of Guiden’s troops combined.

It took only a few seconds for the message to sink in. Kavaraa instructed the computer to search the criminal database for Nilpoj.

“Why didn’t I think of that before?” Kavaraa slapped himself, “Joplin spelled backwords is Nilpoj!”

Another window popped up on Kavaraa’s computer:

CRIMINALS DATABASE LOOKUP: Nilpoj

Nilpoj is one of the most dangerous criminals elves have ever known of. She has been known to steal magic and brainwash innocent bystanders. If you find her, stay a safe distance away and call the Alfstad police.

CURRENT STATUS: Escaped FROM Maximum security prison

“Great,” moaned Alerakshar, “Just great.”

“Yes, and you don’t need to yell,” said Kavaraa calmly as he pushed a large red button.

There was a loud thud a few seconds later as all 100 troops and 50 dragons appeared in a jumbled heap in the middle of the workshop.

“Where am I?” a few of the troops wondered out loud.

Others moaned, “Who am I?”

Suddenly, their magic started working again as they floated up into the air and were each enclosed in a cocoon of blue light.

“I guess the only thing we can do is watch them heal themselves,” said Guiden, “At least they’ll be able to think straight in a few minutes. After about an hour of healing, they’ll be extremely tired, but they will have their minds back.”

Guiden turned to Kavaraa, “I trust you have some way to accelerate the magic?”

“I would if the suits were still working,” Kavaraa replied, “But the teleportation took a lot out of the batteries. I’d be surprised if the suits could function as air conditioners. We’ll just have to wait it out and get the suits recharged after they finish healing.”

“Kinket, how are the dragons doing?” said Kerhet.

There was a quiet moan.

“Kinket?” he screamed, “What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I’m under this dragon. It’s little Tamnardav, the smallest one. She fell on me when she appeared and now she’s too tired to move,” he moaned, “Poor little thing, she’s so hungry!”

Guiden snapped his fingers and levitated the 250-pound dragon off of Kinket.

“Where am I going to find over ten tons of dragon chow?” moaned Kinket, “These dragons forgot how to hunt!”

“Can you wait a few minutes?” said Guiden, “I’ll try to get some of the troops revived, then they can summon the food. I’ll make some for Tamnardav right now.”

He began chanting magic words as Kinket ran over to a supply closet to get a food bowl. As soon as he had returned and placed the bowl in front of Guiden, large pellets of dragon chow began raining into the bowl. Tamnardav, the only conscious dragon, began gulping down the food as soon as she could run over to the bowl. Guiden had to concentrate in order to get only 200 pounds of food and not continue filling the bowl until the little dragon exploded.

Soon, the dragon had eaten 200 pounds of chow, and Guiden was busy reviving as many of his troops as he could.

24 were revived, 57 were still healing, the rest were out cold, having used up all their magic, trying to recharge.

First, they summoned a large bowl, big enough to hold fifteen tons of food, then each of them summoned 800 pounds of dragon chow into the bowl.

Kinket was busy waking the dragons in a non-threatening manner. He didn’t want them to be spooked and start rampaging.

The dragons realized how hungry they were and hurried over to the food bowl. They ate their fill, then laid themselves down in a corner and fell asleep.

“I think I’ll take a nap,” she thought to herself. “It’s so comfortable out here!”

“There is magic at work here,” said Guiden, “and I’m not referring to the oceans of magic we’re using to index their minds, not to mention the amount we’ll be using to remove their memories of the indexing.”

“I don’t think we need to remove their memories with any large amount of magic,” said Kinket. “The two humans are in a sort of coma already, and Joplin seems to have enough magic to resist even your troops.”

“It looks like we have all we can get from Akita,” Kerhet yelled into the microphone that was connected to all of the Agilinso suits, “move all magic from Akita to Joplin.”

“You don’t have to yell,” Kavaraa said as all 100 warlocks cringed at the noise.

“Uh-oh,” said Sar, “it looks like Joplin has a higher brain capacity than an average elf.”

“Why did the troops just stop with the magic?” said Kinket.

“Oh no,” cried Guiden, “they’ve been Felatred, all of them at once!  It’s as if Joplin could turn their magic back at them!”

She had done just that.

“We’re ready for the suits,” he said, and promptly disappeared through the portal once more.

Kavaraa conjured up a portal and grabbed the needed amount of suits, and Kerhet, Kavaraa, Alerakshar, and Sar went to see the assembled troops.

It was an amazing sight: one hundred elven warlocks sitting double on fifty dragons.  Each of the elven warlocks were handed an Agilinso suit and promptly put it on.  Each of the fifty dragon handlers put an Agilinso suit on their dragon.  At Guiden’s command, the warlocks and their dragons disappeared.  Another command was given, and the dragons began to hover.  Although Sar could not see them, he felt the wind generated by their wings.  Kinket gave a third and final command, and the dragons zoomed into a portal.

“Do we get to watch?” asked Sar.

“Why yes,” said Kavaraa, “yes we do.”  Kavaraa opened a portal to his workshop.  He powered up one of his computers, opened video feeds from each of the suits, and selected sixteen at random, loading them into a grid.

“Let’s see what happens,” he said.

The cameras on the Agilinso suits could see through their own invisibility, which helped Sar see what was happening.

“We used to do these magical mind indexings all the time, until Kavaraa made the mind machine,” explained Guiden, “But we’ve never done a human before — that I can remember.”

Blue and purple waves of magic began to pour from the warlocks’ hands.  As Guiden explained later, the blue waves were to index their minds, while the purple ones were to erase Joplin and Akita’s memories of the mind indexing.  Soon, Joplin and Akita were wrapped in cocoons of magic.

“Strange,” mumbled Kavaraa, “Joplin has a very large brain capacity.”

“Could she be an elf?” Alerakshar was afraid.

“No, it’s smaller than an elf’s, but larger than what a human’s usually is at her age.”

“Akita seems to have been felatred,” commented Kerhet, “or at least hypnotized.”

“This is all very strange,” said Alerakshar, “there may be stronger forces than we thought at work here.”

“We’ll have to wait for the rest of the index to be completed before we know what’s happening,” said Guiden.

“These are really easy to put on!” said Sar.

“It’s my own special type of elastic,” said Kavaraa, “It’s invisible when you’re in it, and won’t come off if you don’t want it to: If there’s nobody inside it, it’s easy to put on.  If there’s someone inside who wants to get out, it’s easy to take off.  If there’s someone inside who wants it to stay on, it stays on.”

“How do I activate the features?” asked Guiden.

“If you want to be invisible, think about being invisible.  If you want the dragon you’re riding to be invisible, think about it being invisible,” said Kavaraa, “Same thing for being visible and able to fly.  If you want to stop flying, just land for at least two seconds and your wings will retract.”

“Let me guess, we can communicate by thinking?” Karhet scoffed.

“Yep,” said Kavaraa.

“So what happens if I don’t want everyone reading my thoughts?” asked Kerhet.

“You just think about being reclusive — or the like,” said Kavaraa, “and if you want to communicate, think about communicating.”

“I’ve had enough of talking,” screamed Kinket, jumping on the dragon.

Both of them vanished instantly.

Kavaraa handed a pair of Agiksnam glasses to Alerakshar.

“Human vision glasses,” he said.

Alerakshar put on the glasses and still could not see Kinket or the dragon.

“Neither humans nor elves can see past Agilinso-induced invisibility,” the elf king grinned, “Very good.  Let’s get started.”

“I’ll assemble one hundred troops, sir,” Guiden stood at attention.

“I’ll get fifty dragons ready to go,” said Kinket, appearing out of nowhere with his dragon.

“This is my favorite project: Agilinso Suits,” said Kavaraa, pulling out a shiny full body suit, “They make the user invisible while improving reaction time, strengthening magic, heightening senses, and best of all, allowing you to fly.  I’ve also made a version for dragons,” Kavaraa pulled out out a larger suit, the size of a dragon, “but it has no flying abilities because dragons can already fly.”

“So you’re saying that we don’t need to shield anymore?” asked Guiden.

“Didn’t I say it makes you invisible?” said Kavaraa, “Elves will still need to shield, these things are expensive to make, they’re only for government officials and our best troops.”

“Exactly how many suits do you have?” Kinket wondered out loud.

“Eight hundred ninety two,” answered Kavaraa, “Seven hundred of those are for elves, a hundred ninety for dragons, and these two are prototypes.”

“I’d like to take them for a test drive,” said Guiden.

The other four elves agreed.

“Let’s go,” said Sar.

“How could they have known his name?” asked Kinket.

“Rewind twenty seconds,” Alerakshar enunciated.

The world around them moved back twenty seconds in the time it would normally take to move forward one.

“Activate slow motion.”

The world slowed down to a crawl.  Kinket’s jaw dropped open when he saw the name tag that Sar was wearing.

“We’ve seen all we need to see for now, let’s go back to the board room and figure out how this happened,” said Alerakshar.

“But how did the children happen to be looking at Sar?” said Kerhet, after hearing how the name tag had come to be.

“That is the only mystery still there,” said Kinket, “and even worse, we’ll need to index the children’s minds before we know.  But the mind machine has not been programmed to index human minds, so we’re in a bit of a bind.”

“What if we could get the warlocks to index their minds with magic?” said Guiden.

“It would be extremely dangerous,” said Kinket, “but we have no better alternatives.”

“Then let’s hope Alblixtned will help us,” said Alerakshar.

“I’ll assemble the troops immediately,” said Guiden.

“Wait!” Sar yelled, “Won’t it be a bit obvious having a few hundred elves in human land?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be shielded.”

“If shielding would help, the children wouldn’t have been able to see my name tag long enough to read it.”

“I have an idea,” Kavaraa cut in, “why don’t we use some technology?”

“What do you mean?” said Guiden.

“Let me show you,” said Kavaraa, puffing up his chest with pride.

“What is that thing?” said Sar, in a daze.

“That would be a mystical portal,” said Savakt, “It goes to the board room.”

Dumbfounded, Sar walked into the portal, as he was instructed to do by Skyda.  He found himself in a brightly lit room with five official-looking elves.

The one which Sar decided must be Alerakshar (because of photos he had seen) spoke first: “Hello, there, Sar Sobrun.  Let’s get straight to business.  These are my associates: Kerhet, the security overseer, Guiden, the head warlock, Kavaraa, the technology administrator, and Kinket, the dragon tamer.  We all know why we’re here, so let’s start.”

Everyone grunted approval.

“We know the problem: some human children have imagined an elf by a name very similar to that of a real elf who was spying on them.  Here’s what we’ve learned from the mind machine:” Alerakshar snapped his fingers and a holographic screen rose up from the table, displaying the images on the screen directly at whoever was watching.

“Display first video,” Alerakshar enunciated.  Seconds later, everyone was transported into Sar’s memories of spying on the children.  They could all hear each other think, as well as the thoughts of Avicenna, her two daughters, and Sar’s memory self.  Each of the six elves who were watching the memories could walk freely through the memory without worrying about anyone seeing them.  It was only a memory, and a copied one at that.

“Don’t you love being on the beach, Melissa?” Akita seemed to be talking to her sister’s doll, pretending to be her own.

“Yeah, it’s great to get the sand in between your toes, Alexus,” Joplin said as her doll.

“I wish I could come here all the time.”

“But we can!”

“Right.”

“So why did you wish?”

“You know what I mean!”

“No, I don’t!”

“Mo-om!” both girls screamed simultaneously.

“Wha-at?” Avicenna seemed to be tired.  Surely, she was fed up with her daughters always fighting.

“I wish those girls could stop hurting each other’s feelings,” Avicenna thought, “Why do they always get mad so easily?”

The remembered Sar seemed to be annoyed as he left, not making a sound.  Kavaraa was wearing goggles that allowed him to see what humans could see, and he shrugged his shoulders.  He had seen only humans in the memory, and had not heard anything within the human hearing range from the remembered Sar.

“Display second video,” Alerakshar enunciated again, and the six elves were transported to the next memory.

Sar went straight to the leader of the elves, Alerakshar.  The guards would not believe Sar until he used his magic to summon an orb of light with video-like footage of the day before, at the house of Avicenna and her daughters, Joplin and Akita.

“Believe me now?” Sar taunted the guards after they had watched the video of Sar’s memory of the day before.

“Come with us,” said the skinnier of the two.

“We believe you, but please don’t let anyone know.  If anyone who’s not from the government finds out, we’ll be in big trouble,” whispered the fatter one.

“What does that do?” said Sar.

“Let’s just say, nobody’s secrets are safe in their head anymore,” said the fat guard, who had revealed his name to be Savakt.

“But we’ll grant you privacy, only the government officials that need to know and you will know what’s in your head,” said Skyda, the skinny guard.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sar halted in place, “You’re going to look in my head and see all my secrets?”

“Yes, if you want to put it that way, but your secrets are safe.  Not even we get to know what’s inside,” Skyda knocked on Sar’s head, “in your noggin.”

“We only do this so if you forget something, it won’t be left out.  We’re trying to save the country, not get you arrested for lying.”

“Ok, what do I need to do?” Sar was strangely comforted by the guards.  They seemed to be a lot nicer than he had imagined guards were.

“Just sit down in that chair.  The computer will do the rest.  It’s painless, don’t worry, you won’t feel a thing,” Savakt pointed at a chair which looked like it was from a sci-fi movie.  It was sleek and metallic, and when Sar sat down, it automatically scanned his body and determined blood type, age, hair color, eye color, and even the amount of magic he had used during each hour in the last week.

Sar settled into the chair as a screen lowered itself down in front of his face and started to display the contents of his mind.  The guards had vacated the room, leaving him to sit by himself, letting the computer scan his mind and show it to him.  Messages started to scroll across the bottom of the screen:

The mind machine has enough hard drive space, processor power, and ram to download the entire human internet, spell check it, and store it in under an hour.  However, we try to keep our mind machine doing what it was made for.  Your mind has been 10% scanned.  The mind machine keeps your thoughts so secure that if every human computer in the world tried to decode our cyphers for a whole year, constantly brute-forcing it, they would have a chance of stealing your data equivalent to that of every single fish in the ocean dying all at once of old age. Your mind has been 22.4% scanned.  The mind of an elf has a storage capacity equal to about five thousand times that of a human.  Your mind has been 31.9% scanned.  The mind machine has completed the scan of your conscious memories and will now scan your subconscious memories.  These messages will now stop appearing, and we will allow you to view lost memories.

Sar was impressed.  He would have thought the messages scrolling across the screen were lies, had he not seen his memories appearing like web pages on a human computer.  One last message appeared exactly 42 minutes and 36.4 seconds after the scanner had switched to lost memories:

Alerakshar will speak to you now.  He has sent some guards to escort you to him.

Sar used his mind to accept the invitation, and the screen slid away into the ceiling.  Savakt and Skyda returned to the room and walked with Sar through an endless maze of corridors and security checkpoints.  Finally, they arrived in Alerakshar’s throne room.

“Alblixtned, what is wrong with me?” thought Sar, “First, I disobey a direct order from my mother, and now I get the entire city of Alfstad this close to being discovered.”  Sar held up his fingers so close together that they were almost touching.  “How can I get rid of this problem before it becomes too big to handle?”

And at once, thoughts filled his head, growing to rival the number of fish in the ocean.  Sar instantly knew what he had to do.  “I must save Alfstad,” he said out loud, “and I must do it myself.”

Suddenly, Sar could see the children that he had spied on, as if he had a second pair of eyes.  His black, flowing hair suddenly turned blue and flew up in the air.  He no longer was paying attention to his surroundings, as his eyes were covered with a blue haze.  He knew what had happened.

“Magic,” he thought, “I finally mastered it!”

“What now, Akita?” Joplin shouted back.

“Where did Sir Soybean go?”

“He probably went back to his house.”

“Elves have houses?”

“What else would they live in?”

“I don’t know, maybe a hole in the ground?”

“Why would something so cool live in a hole?”

“It was just an idea,” cried Akita, “Mom! Joplin’s hurting my feelings!”

“Akita!  I thought you were my friend!  I’m the one who told you about Sir Soybean!” whispered Joplin just loud enough to let both Sar Sobrun and Akita hear.  It was also just loud enough for Avicenna, their mother, to hear as well.

Sar’s second (and now dominant) pair of eyes turned to the house and zoomed in.  He could now see and hear Avicenna, and read her thoughts.

“I hate this Sir Soybean thing!” she thought, her thoughts screaming out at Sar, “It’s always Sir Soybean this, Sir Soybean that.  Ever since Joplin came up with the idea of that elf, there hasn’t been a sensable conversation between them!”

“What is it, Akita?” she sang, her voice a far cry from what she was thinking.

“Joplin is saying my ideas are dumb!” screamed Akita.

“Did not!” Joplin screamed back.

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“Stop it, both of you!” screamed Avicenna, all of her calmness melting away like an ice cube on a hot day.

The children fell silent, and so did everything else.  Sar had run out of strength and fell to the floor.  His hair and eyes went back to their original colors, and his consciousness shot back into his bedroom.

“Magic sure takes a lot out of you,” he moaned.  And then all was darkness.

I have been spying on the humans again.  I know, my mother told me that I should never go anywhere near humans for fear of being seen, but sometimes, I just can’t help myself.  I stay shielded, so they can’t see me, but somehow, the human children have started to make up stories about mystical elves by the name of Sir Soybean, a frighteningly close name to my own.

I’m just glad that they are children and Sir Soybean can be passed off as imagination.  If they were adults, who knows how long I could be grounded.  And even worse, what would happen to Alfstad if the humans became a threat?  It wouldn’t just be me in trouble.  All the elves would lose their home!

I’ll just have to hope that it’s only a coincidence and Sir Soybean was the result of childhood imagination.  If it isn’t, I’ve created a gigantic threat to all elves just by looking at some children who I thought couldn’t see me.