Elfish by Julie Steimle (best historical fiction books of all time .txt) 📕

“I am not talking about a Lord of the Rings sort of people. I am not even talking about a long-lived beings of a bygone civilization—people such as the Tuatha de Dannan. Rather, I am talking about an older people. A hidden people.”

Malcom nudged Peter in the head. “That was a nasty thing you did.”

Sean turned around and shushed Malcom.

The man sat back, blinking at Sean, who was dutifully taking notes. Others around him also shot Malcom dirty looks.

“So, today we will speak as if legend were reality,” Prof. Birtwistle said. He then lifted up his notes. “Those who have been in my previous lectures, know and understand my theory on the variety of elvish folk. I have categorized them, and I will use them here. But today we mostly focus on the god-elf. According to some legends, the elvish folk are in fact fallen angels.”

That got a murmur from the crowd. Most Brits were agnostic, so this was pure cynical chuckling and amusement. Academic interest, merely. No belief.

“Most are tempted to dismiss this legend as a catholic intrusion into paganism to dismiss their gods. This may very well be the case. However, to ignore the possibility that it is correct would be foolish.”

That got another cynical chuckle, though not from Peter, nor from Sean. But then Sean was most likely catholic. Possibly, he believed in demons and angels.

“Let’s assume for just a moment that all pantheons of gods are real in some shape or form.” The professor allowed the dissenting murmurs to interrupt him as he paused with a glance to the front row. Peter watched the witches there carefully. Still no Mia. There was an empty seat for her, though.

“You’re not going to win,” Malcom breathed.

“Shht!” Sean shushed him again. “What’s your problem, man? He’s speaking.”

“They don’t have to be immortals,” the professor clarified down below. “Most can merely be classes of aristocrats who had set themselves up as gods—like the Pharaohs of Egypt and the Emperors of China.”

Sean nodded. It was always a possibility. Peter himself had once considered most legends were about real people and not elves at all.

“But assume they were especially gifted people, who were worshipped at one point.” The professor nodded. “Perhaps they had figured out what the transhumanists are attempting to do today—extend their lives with the latest technology. After all, technology seen by a primitive society could be construed as magic. And we know today we still cannot recreate much of what the Egyptians had created—such as their pyramids. There are people who believe aliens created them.”

Assenting, amused murmurs rippled through the room.

“So, the real issue at hand is not so much if these pantheons were real, but how they existed. What form?” Prof. Birtwistle shifted his feet. Usually he did not stand long during a lecture. He was a pacer, and this was the longest he had stood still that Peter had ever seen. “But on to my elf theory. Categorically—under the premise that all elves are indeed ‘fallen angels’—this does not conclude that all fell with equal power or ended up with equal strength. Some would have retained much power, and therefore be hierarchically superior. Others may only be able to crawl the earth like demons, and therefore hierarchically inferior. Thus, there are degrees or levels of elvish power.

“The legends in the apocryphal Book of Enoch list a number of fallen angels who, like Prometheus, brought knowledge to Man against God’s wishes. According to many Judeo-Christian myths, there was a war in Heaven. And sides divided. Assuming this actually happened, what if there were survivors from that war? Some religionists even say the war continues to this day. But what if these powerful fallen angels played god on the earth during the early formations of civilizations? What if they became all these pantheons of gods around the world? This is what I call a god-elf.”

Murmurs went through the crowd.

“There are other elves, to be sure. Diminished beings that just live out their long existence with pleasure and mayhem—such as the Unseelie Court.” Prof. Birtwistle’s eyes fixed on Prof. Taylor with a short nod. “But they are not as powerful as a god-level elf, and therefore not the topic of this discussion.

“However, today there are no such pantheons followed by religionists. No such gods roam our earth as far as any of us can see. There are no gods atop Mt. Olympus today. Scientists can prove it. For pity’s sake, a common mountaineer can prove it. And as for the invisible Judeo-Christian God, He has predominated most religious thought throughout the world for centuries—regardless of the growing acceptance of Buddhism, Sikhism, and Islam.” He paused. “I wonder, why that is. Was it the power of the rhetoric of the invisible God whose followers walk after by faith? The force of their armies? Why had Rome abandoned their pantheon, with Zeus at the head, for the invisible Christian God?

“Atheists state plainly that it is because all gods are false. That is their reasoning. It is a valid one. But what if there were another reason. Assume again for a second that all these pantheons were real, and all were fallen-angels-become-elves who played god. Where did they go when Christianity charged into their territory? I submit, the possibility that the god-elves were dethroned and could no longer prove their power anymore to the mortals. That they were punished by the invisible Christian God, and no longer allowed to play upon the fears of Man. They could no longer manifest themselves to their believers and answer their supplications and sacrifices. Thus their popularity dwindled and vanished.”

Peter shivered. He had heard this very theory from Mr. Jones. It was a known fact among the Seven that the god-level elves had been punished and removed so they could no longer interfere in God’s work. But how did Prof. Birtwistle know about it?

“Of course this is all speculation,” Prof. Birtwistle said with a placating chuckle for all those agnostics and atheists in the audience. “But we are walking in the realms of ‘what if’, and we will be following this train of thought to the station.”

A small, similar chuckle passed through the crowd.

“Through various recorded myths and records, I have tracked the existence of one such god-elf.”

These words sent a shiver through the crowd. Peter peeked over at Prof. Taylor. It occurred to him that possibly Prof. Birtwistle had searched all of Prof. Taylor’s records to the same extent as he did. However, the records would not have revealed all this. There was more to it. Had the witches maintained a record about certain elves? It was likely. The coven back in Massachusetts controlled their town’s library, and it was packed with strange books—a number with magical origin.

“Real or not, this legendary person is someone who, if the stories were true, would exist today as a diminished elf.” He sighed. The man began to pace with his hands behind his back, leaving the podium. “A diminished elf is an elf who was once great, yet now lives largely below their capabilities. Their power now dormant and their identity suppressed. It is like… a coma patient. Alive, yet hardly living.”

More murmurs rippled from the audience.

“How does this happen? How does an elf of such power get to this state?” he asked the audience. “Well, there is usually a catalyst. A trauma that does it. But, it can also happen to elves who simply give up. After eons of living, these are the elves that go back to their origins and diminish—as the God of this world initially planned, acting as mere gardeners of the world.

“You see… an elf can forget who they are after living so long. Like anyone who isolates themselves from the world, an elf can lose their identity.” He shook his head. “However, all theory aside, as I said, I believe I may have found such an elf.”

Ripples went through the crowd. Sean scribbled down his notes furiously while Prof. Taylor and Peter exchanged looks. They were right. The witches had found the Seven’s Elf.

“In my research, I call her ‘The Woman of Many Names’.” Prof. Taylor said, hardly looking to Peter now. “I have traced her legacy from myth and legend, and this discovery has led me to modern incidents of elf sightings.”

“Modern?” Sean murmured. “Is he serious?”

“I think he is,” Prof. Taylor murmured, knowing elves were real.

Peter peeked toward Malcom who was sitting behind them with a dirty expression on his face, thinking. Peter glanced to his phone, which he had on vibrate. So far, no calls from Daniel. He pulled it out to text.

~The Prof was researching OUR Elf. Get here fast. I don’t think I can take them all on.~

When he sent it, Malcom chuckled. It was that smarmy sort of chuckle that said, ‘Your efforts are futile.’ It felt so comic book level cheese that Peter shot him another glance.

Malcom flipped him off.

“To those of you who were aware of the direction of my research to find the legacy of such an elf,” Prof. Birtwistle said with pride, “I will present to you today, possible proof that, in fact, The Woman of Many Names exists.”

Prof. Birtwistle then posted up on the back screen, which had lowered, images from a PowerPoint. The first image was a renaissance depiction of fallen angels in suits of armor, carrying swords, alongside a depiction of an angel with a flaming sword driving Adam and Eve out of Eden.

“Shamsiel.”

“Crap,” Peter muttered under his breath. It definitely was their Elf.

“He was the sixteenth Watcher of the twenty leaders of two hundred fallen angels described in the Book of Enoch. The name means Sun of God. According to that record, Shamsiel taught Man the songs of the sun. However, Shamsiel was also described as an angel on the side of the Archangel Michael in the War in Heaven, and was in fact given charge to guard Eden after Adam and Eve were expelled. If this were the case, Shamsiel would be a cherub. Thus there is a disagreement. Some say, Shamsiel is the ruler of the fourth heaven, while others say Shamsiel was a fallen angel. But after all my research, the most startling thing I discovered was that Shamsiel was not a he, but a she.”

More murmurs. Prof. Taylor peeked nervously to Peter who had stiffened.

 “I submit that Shamsiel diminished into an elf and hid among mortals, taking the form of one known in Celtic myth as Brigidt.”

The room murmured together.

“Yes. The green goddess. The Lady of the Flame.” Prof. Birtwistle drew up the next slide, showing a Celtic depiction in green of this red haired goddess. “In Celtic myth circles, she was the daughter of Dagda—a triple goddess not in the form of maiden, mother, and crone, but as an ageless goddess with three aspects. And yet, she left all of this—restless, like most elves with this magnitude of power—and was traced to Greece.”

 Prof. Taylor looked over at Peter again who had taken to rubbing his red crystal. Peter had a bad feeling. He had done all this footwork himself, going to all the ruins, and somehow this professor had found out all this without even going to Egypt. How had this man tracked down their Elf? Indeed, did the witches in England already know about her? Had they been keeping it a secret? It was possible. No one in their right mind would mess with a god-level elf except witches—and this felt like an ageless vendetta. It was possible, Peter realized, that he and Daniel had merely stepped