lives. (For reference: A single luster translates to a million human dollars.) They still add to the fund once they begin working, so some families do end up having more money than others. But such disparities have no effect on status, nor cause any social unrest, since everyone is still considered “prosperous.” (And work is done out of want, not need.) The birth fund is accessed using a small green gadget called a Treasury Cube, which each elf carries with them. Vendors swipe the Treasury Cube with a gadget called a Deducter, and the money is subtracted from the corresponding account—no coins or paper money is ever needed or exchanged.
A NATURAL PROPENSITY FOR LANGUAGE:
Elves speak the Enlightened Language instinctively from birth—though to human ears it sounds a bit like babbling. And they have two written alphabets, both of which are instinctive as well. Their primary alphabet uses modern letters, and their runic alphabet is used mostly for decoration (though some have also built codes and ciphers around the runic alphabet). The elvin mind has a tremendous capacity for language, so many elves also learn to speak Dwarven, Trollish, Gnomish, Ogreish, and Goblinese (particularly elves who join the nobility). And a small handful learn human dialects as well.
A LIMITLESS LIFE SPAN:
The elves consider their lives to be “indefinite” because no one in the Lost Cities has ever died from old age (at least not that they know of…). They aren’t immortal—elves can and have passed away. But those deaths were caused by circumstance, not time. The elves also appear somewhat “ageless” and do not get gray hair or wrinkles. A thirty-year-old elf looks the same as a three-hundred-year-old elf—and a three-thousand-year-old elf would only have one small difference: The tops of their ears would be pointy. Elvin ears continue to grow slowly along the tops, which is why pointed ears are considered a mark of the Ancients.
AN ABUNDANCE OF TIME:
Thanks to their incredible longevity, time is a relative construct in the Lost Cities—something the elves mark, but rarely focus on. They still break time down into seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, and years, but they don’t pay much attention to them—particularly when it comes to their own ages. The elves technically count age from their inception date (because of the way their pregnancies develop), but few even notice the date when it passes, and none celebrate the occasion. In fact, most Ancient elves have long since lost track of precisely how old they are.
A UNIQUE SET OF TRADITIONS:
Despite their relaxed attitude toward time, the elves do have a few celebrations—most of which are linked to accomplishment, or significant natural events. For instance, whenever there’s a total lunar eclipse, Orem Vacker uses his skills as a Flasher to put on a spectacular light show called the Celestial Festival. And there are numerous traditions connected to Foxfire Academy, including their Opening Ceremonies, midterms, and finals celebrations. Winnowing Galas, weddings, and funerals also carry their own customs and experiences—and many choose to hold parties for no particular reason.
A RARE GOODBYE:
Death is incredibly uncommon in the Lost Cities, but it does occasionally happen. As such, the elves have developed a ceremony called a “planting” to commemorate the loss. Plantings are held in the Wanderling Woods (the elves’ only graveyard), and friends and family gather for support. A Wanderling seed (wrapped with the deceased’s DNA—usually a single strand of their hair) is planted and immediately sprouts, taking on certain physical characteristics of the life that’s been lost and allowing the deceased to live on in a small way. Each tree is marked with a stone bearing the name of whoever has been planted there, and most families choose to visit the Wanderlings regularly, to grieve in the trees’ gentle shade.
A TRULY GLOBAL WORLD:
The elves rely heavily on light leaping, a process that involves letting the light break down their bodies so they can “hitch a ride” and travel great distances in a matter of seconds. With practice, each elf’s concentration becomes strong enough to hold themselves together during the leap—but until then, they wear a nexus as a safety precaution. (If they lose part of themselves in a leap, they’ll reform slightly faded. And if they lose too much, they’ll fade away completely. It’s also possible to become sick with light poisoning.) The Ancients used starstones to create their paths before leaping crystals were invented. Now, home crystals and Leapmasters are used until an elf can prove that they’re responsible, mature, and trustworthy enough to be