Honoured Guest
By Kareem Miskel
Damnedest thing he ever saw.
The noise woke him up in the dead of night. Like rushing water. Reminded him of Niagara Falls. When he opened his eyes, he saw the purple light against the wall of his bedroom. All wavy and whatnot. When he peered out of his window to cuss out whoever the hell was in his driveway, he was struck dumb. Couldn’t believe what he was seeing, so he grabbed Maddie 2 and went outside to see it closer.
And, yep. About twelve feet tall. Five feet wide. Waving purple light hanging in the air like a big old curtain. It was warm. With a staticky feel to it. Made his hairs stand on end. It put him in the mind of the Northern Lights, but he couldn’t see through it.
He grabbed a fallen tree branch from the ground and stuck it in. It was like cutting into a block of cheese. Too much resistance to be pushing into air, but not enough to stop him. When he pulled it out, the wood was charred black and the leaves were burned away. “Great,” Eli said to himself. “Damned thing’s probably gonna give me cancer.”
He stared at it for a while, trying to make it fit into his head. Trying to figure out what it was. After a minute or two, he didn’t have any choice but to admit that he already knew. Wasn’t no use in denying it. He’d seen enough T.V. to know what he was looking at. A portal. He didn’t know they existed a half hour ago, but what the hell did that matter? He was looking at it.
Dropping his ass into the lawn chair, Eli sat Maddie 2 across his lap. She made him feel better but, really what was she gonna do? Her 12 gauges could take down man or beast, but he didn’t know what in God’s creation was fixin’ to come outa that door.
Should I call someone, he wondered. But who? Police? FBI? EPA? Hell, no! He moved out to the middle of the woods to get away from the likes of them. Probably woulda taken his land and disappeared him. Didn’t need that mess.
Ryan? Nah. The boy had his own life. Didn’t have much use for his old man since Maddie 1 died. Not that Eli blamed him. Or anyone else, for that matter. He wasn’t gonna lie to himself about what he was like. The world pissed him off some years back and he took it out on everybody. Son included.
That was it, then. It was just him and Maddie 2.
The portal didn’t do anything for a while. Just hung there for fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty. Funny how quick something like that could become boring. Like he’d seen a bunch of them before and was waiting for this one to clear up. Just like it done last week and the week before, he joked to himself.
Finally, something started to happen. The light got brighter. The noise got louder.
Eli hopped to his feet and aimed his faithful companion straight ahead.
He wasn’t sure if the man walked out of the portal or out of a movie. He was a thin fella. Pale skin. Sharp face. Long, white hair. He was dressed in bands of dull, golden metal over green leather. Armor. Held a sword, too. Looked a bit like a cavalry saber.
When his eyes landed on Eli, his left arm snapped up. Jagged bands of light danced along his hands like electricity.
They stood like that for a bit. Probably wasn’t that long but felt like forever. Enough time for Eli to argue with a voice from the past.
What you gon’ do? Shoot a white man on your front lawn and tell the police he was gonna blast you with his magic hand?
Gotta protect my home.
From what? If he was lookin’ for a fight, he’d have started one by now.
He looks dangerous.
He ain’t dangerous, you old fool. He’s scared. Just like you. Now, put that damned thing away and act the way Jesus taught you before you do somethin’ stupid.
Best decision he ever made was letting Mama Bear growl in his ear for thirty years. Wouldn’t do any good to ignore her now just ‘cause she was dead.
Eli lowered the gun. Slowly. “You speak English?”
The other man looked confused for a second. He raised his sword hand and awkwardly tapped the gem hanging from his neck. “Repeat!”
Didn’t need to. Question answered. So, Eli asked another. “You hungry?”
The man nodded.
“Well, come on in.”
The invader moved forward cautiously until he was in the house.
Eli led him to the kitchen table. “Have a seat.”
The man stared at him for a few seconds. Now that he was out of the light, Eli had a better idea what he was looking at. The armor was scratched. The sword was chipped. There was a scar on the side of his face. And his ears…huh. “I ain’t gon’ bite, soldier,” Eli said hanging Maddie 2 on the wall.
A second later, his guest put his sword away and sat down.
Eli poured a drink and sat it on the table. “You an elf?”
“Alfar,” he answered sharply and seemed to regret his tone. “That’s what we call ourselves.”
“Alfar,” Eli repeated. “You got a name?”
“Eimarian. But my human friends call me Eimar. You may do the same.”
“Well, Eimar, my name’s Elijah, but most folks call me Eli. That there’s iced tea. Bit of sugar. Squeeze of lemon. Hopefully, it ain’t unhealthy for ya.”
Eimar raised the glass. “I’ve never heard of iced tea before.” He took a sip and sat it back down. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Eli busied himself heating leftovers in the microwave. “So, did you win?”
A bitter silence followed.
“I see,” Eli said with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you a warrior?”
Eli stirred the stew and muttered out his answer. “Oorah.”
The alfar seemed to understand. “You’ve seen battle?”
“Persian Gulf. Desert Storm. Was this your first fight?”
“My first large one. I’ve fought in a few skirmishes, but this was…” He shuddered.
“Where was it?”
“Lurian’s Pass. In Svartalfheim.”
Eli sat a bowl of hot stew down in front of him. “Do we gotta worry about anyone hoppin’ outa that door?”
Eimar shook his head. “That’s a blood gate. Anyone else who tries to use it will be burned to death.”
“I see.” He took a seat beside his eating guest. They were quiet for a while before Eli said, “Where was you headed?”
“Home. Alfheim. I…wasn’t strong enough to make the full jump. Apologies.”
“Eh, don’t worry ‘bout it. Soldier’s gotta eat.”
A sudden flinch. Something Eli said had startled him. “Sarvanas was always hungry. The rations never satisfied him. I spent days irritated because he wouldn’t be silent about it. And now…” His eyes reddened. His bottom lip trembled. “He was my blade brother,” the alfar sobbed.
Eli stood up and fetched a bottle from the cabinet with two shot glasses. He didn’t know what a “blood gate” was, but he understood “blade brother” well enough. “Lost my buddy Benton in my first big firefight,” he said pouring out two drinks. “This is how we honour them.”
The alfar lifted the glass and took a sniff. “Spirits?”
“Rum. Made it myself.” He raised his glass. “To Sarvanas.”
Eimar raised his in turn. “To Benton.” They knocked them back. The alfar’s face twisted a little and his lips twitched into a ghost of a smile.
“Another?” Eli offered.
The guest shook his head. “I should be going. If I’m here too long my enemies can track the blood gate. They wouldn’t be able to use mine, but they could make one of their own.”
“Can’t have that,” Eli agreed.
They stood. Eimar looked at him for a long moment before drawing a sheathed knife from his back and setting it on the table. The blade was as long as Eli’s forearm. The hilt was a beautifully crafted curve of black wood. “This weapon was forged and enchanted for me the day I joined the Ulthanir. I have wielded it for one hundred years. I would like you to have it.”
“I just heated some food for you.”
“You gave aid and comfort to a strange man from another world when you had every reason to strike him down. You fought in war and still had the courage to show kindness in the face of the unknown. I beg you, do me this honour.”
Eli nodded. “The honour’s all mine.”
The two of them stepped outside and faced the portal that brought them together. The alfar warrior stepped toward it and turned to Eli one last time. He thumped his left fist over his chest and bowed deeply. “Elijah!”
Eli snapped a crisp salute. “Eimarian!”
A moment later, the light and his guest were both gone, leaving Eli alone with the most amazing story he would never tell. ■
Kareem Miskel was born in Chicago and raised in a small Illinois town called Mattoon where he graduated high school. He loves to write fantasy, science-fiction, and horror of all kinds. He tends to prefer constructing smaller narratives, tending toward flash fiction, short stories, or novellas. His work can be found in such collections as "Slugger", "Oddity Prodigy: Where Legends Walk", and "Inkd Hidden Villains: Betrayed", as well as his books Curiosities and Iron and Clay: Rising Conflict. Today he lives in Champaign, Illinois and works in customer service.
©Kareem Miskel (2026)