**The last chapter chronicled the passage of a lovely human woman through the life of a lonely elf who waits for his love to return to him. It's been centuries. For the Elf aficionados, I'm only going by the rules "kinda-sorta", but if you need specifics, this poor guy is a type of Moon Elf. I'm just an uncultured heathen of a writer and I've never played D&D in my life. I was always too busy making a living to have the time, and to tell you the truth, I'd rather be writing.
For any readers who believe that elves can only be good, I'd point you at any writings regarding the Drow and that ought to cure you of the notion. Maybe I'll write a hopefully good Drow tale, since I've just had the thought. If I have to be specific, Moon Elves as a type are categorized as "Chaotic Good". They're usually well-meaning, but sometimes ... don't get upset at some of the things that the one in this tale does. Well you'd get a little bored too if you were him. ;)
Moon Elves are known for their ability to see REALLY well in the dark, don't mind being solitary, though nobody's ever asked the one in this story, and they're rather good at magic. Not to put too fine a point on it, but this one has had a lot of time to perfect things as well as to amalgamate what he's learned from humanity into what he knows. It makes him a rather singular individual.
Comments are always welcome and please vote if this makes you want to do that. It's not a really big deal to me and for sure this one won't do it, but I think I'd like to crack the 4.9 rating barrier just once. O_o
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The lonely elf remained in the area of the now-protected woods that had been the home of his clan. As factories sprang up, he wandered into them from time to time to learn more of man's advances. Very few people ever saw him, and if they did, it was only a glimpse that caused them to wonder if they'd really seen what they thought they had. He integrated perfectly into man's modern age as he continued to wait. He unraveled all of mankind's secrets – well, any that he was presented with. Sometimes he hindered their efforts, but more often than not he helped, if he saw no harm in the helping.
He didn't think about it very often, but he knew that this hobby – this fascination that he had with human technology had helped him to increase his magical ability. His own particular people had much ability to begin with, and once here in the New World, their isolation from man had allowed them to perfect much of their skills.
Left to his own devices and armed with his insatiable curiosity, he'd built on that. His time with Madeline had given him the chance to learn both English and French. If he found a process that interested him, he'd figure it out quickly. If he found a manual and engineering drawings as well, all of its secrets were his in no time. He hadn't only played at running the power station – he'd learned, within limits, to harness it to his will for periods of time.
He sometimes took human lovers if the mood was upon him, but each one was only fleeting to him. It made him a bit sad to think that his one lasting love hadn't even been an elf. He'd given Madeleine as much of himself as he could, but it was over far too quickly for him as the lives of these humans were so short from the vantage point of an elf. He never committed so much to a human ever again – the cost was just too high to him. He'd hang around and love them for a few years even, but would never again commit for the duration of their short life spans.
To his deep sadness, his ruler had never returned to him.
He would sometimes cause a small-scale disaster if he could manage something spectacular that could be seen for miles and could be done so as not to hurt anyone directly or hurt the landscape. He had a vague hope that his princess might see that he still waited near the flames of a suddenly ruined plastics plant or natural gas pipeline. But he always felt sad afterward for he saw no response.
He would wander back to the old forest to sleep alone in the branches of the great oak tree where he'd been born. The magic circle was getting hard to see there in the glade. He sighed sadly whenever he thought that it had now been more than two centuries since he'd even seen another of his kind. He hadn't heard his true name spoken by another in all of that time. He wondered if there were any left, or if he was the last elf left on Earth. He knew that he ought to leave this place and make his own journey to the western mountains. He didn't know the way to take, but he felt the pull still there in his heart and that would be enough to guide him.
If he finally gave up, he wondered if any of the other elves who might live there in the west would even know him. He'd adapted perfectly to mankind, living as a renegade among them for so long. He didn't have any of the right 'papers' that humans carry, but he could drive a car, or ride a motorcycle if he wanted to. He'd done it before.
He smiled as he remembered the few times that he'd been pulled over by the police. All he needed was a small diversion, and in the split second that they looked away from him, he'd be gone. It was easy enough to do. The electrical systems in their patrol cars would surge and everything would stop - the engine, and most importantly, the radios as their processors fried and smoked. It was hard to keep a straight face sometimes.
The elf shook his head. He felt that he needed to do something and soon.
He walked in the evening gloom to a large factory and jumped easily over the fence. Making his way to the power switchgear room, he sat with his back to the wall, listening to the 60 cycle hum all round him. Humans had always been so hungry for one thing or another, he thought to himself. They always wanted more of everything and could never be happy with what they had.
He held up his hand and with a complex series of rapid motions, the sounds around him grew louder as the incoming supply provided for the new load – to power the glittering ball of electricity that he now held swirling slowly in his hand.
From what he'd learned of power utilities and the way that they billed for demand if it came as a spike, he guessed that the Accounts Payable clerk and the accountant in the front office here would fall out of their chairs when they got the bill for what he was doing now. This took a lot of juice and they billed at that level for the whole month on industrial accounts since it was demand and they'd had to supply, after all. If this didn't demand a bit of his concentration, he'd likely have laughed at the thought.
It was a spark, true, but he'd learned that sparks could be given structure and made stable and lasting through his will. In the cable trays above him, the cables grew warm under the increased demand. He oriented the ball to point its axis to one large contactor near to him – one that was closed there behind its door, but drawing only a light load. He smiled a little as he diverted some of that to spin the little amusement he now held absently.
He was careful not to look directly at it without the welding goggles that he wore on his forehead when he ventured into these places. He'd wandered into the libraries of the humans before and used the computers there now and then. He'd become aware of a word – an impossible term for one who lived surrounded with strange technology. Thinking now of how he must look with the welding goggles, he wondered with a small smile if he was now what some of them would call a steampunk.
He knew that he was damaging the cabinet in the panel, but he didn't much care. He might even repair it when the place shut down for the weekend if he felt like it. He wouldn't blow anything up, and they'd never figure out why the cabinet door had its paint burned off, since he'd learned to shield the case from the electrical arc that he drew. Without this, there would already have been an explosion since he drew from above the overload device that limited what could flow to him.
He considered the ball for a second through tightly squinted eyes . With a thought from him and a slight change in how he held it, he could lay waste to the building, pretty much. The incoming line had more than enough capacity for it.
But he'd never do that in this sort of circumstance, not while the plant was running, since there would be innocent lives affected and lost.
