“They are destroying our world!” shouted Dagan. “We would be better off to CONQUER these people, than ‘cooperate!’”

“If not for ‘these people,’ Dagan, we would not exist. As it is, a single story could irrevocably change our world. You have already lost a son.”

“As you have lost a daughter, and a wife! How can you not want to kill these people, Jael?” Dagan was pleading, and seemed to be leaning harder on his staff.

Jael winced a little at his friend’s words, and taking the Elf by the elbow to steady him, he spoke more softly, and answered, “They make our world, Dagan. Beyond their imaginations, they do not know that our world exists. They don’t know how their stories affect our lives. That is why we are here.”

Dagan was unmoved, and jerking his elbow from Jael’s hand, he pulled at his robe, and then pointed a slender finger at the Troll. “Yes, that is why we are here! And they killed Nuri! Who would you name as our Ambassador, now? You?”

Jael shook his head, and answered calmly, “No, my friend. You know that it was decided that we look too different for these people to accept us. I fear that our cause is dead, before it has begun. There is nothing left for us to do but return home.”

From further back in the crowd of Trolls, Elves and Imps, a voice said, “Not so, father. I could be Ambassador for our world.” The crowd parted to let the young Troll through, and a fair looking male of about twenty-five stepped forward. He had golden hair, green eyes, and looked nothing like a Troll. He looked human.

“No! I’ll not allow it, Nissim! You will return home with me.” For the first time, Jael sounded scared.

“I am the only one here who looks human, father,” answered Nissim. “Who else can stand in Nuri’s place?” he asked.

“Not you!” shouted Dagan. “Why should a Troll be Ambassador, rather than an Elf?”

“I will not allow this, Nissim! I would sooner go myself, than lose my son,” said Jael.

“Ha!” Dagan shook his staff at Jael. “I see your song has changed! You do want to be Ambassador!” he charged.

Nissim stepped between the two leaders. “Your ears are pointed, Lord Dagan, just as my father’s nose is too large to be human, and is covered in warts.” At the back of the crowd, the Imps snickered at Nissim’s observations. “However, while my appearance may make me an acceptable spokesman, I am a poor fighter. As a representative of our world, I will need a protector. Perhaps an Elf...?” Nissim trailed off.

Dagan looked astonished and slightly taken aback at Nissim’s suggestion. He had not considered that both could go. Jael looked gravely at his son, and then looked away.

Another voice came from the crowd. “I would like to volunteer, Lord Dagan,” said an Elf, stepping forward. “That is, if you would trust me with your son’s life, Lord Jael,” she added. She looked sheepishly at Nissim. Nissim raised an eyebrow, a slight look of amusement on his face.

“A woman?” scoffed Jael. The Imps snickered again.

“Jelena is one of our best warriors, Jael,” answered Dagan. “Unlike your people, our women train for war, just as well as our men.”

“A WOMAN?” Jael roared louder. The Imps cackled and howled with laughter.

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Story and characters owned by Chris Bishop, copyright 1997, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022.