Secrets of the woodlands.

DISCLAIMER: This story was written and published in 2012 and has been kept up to show the writer’s growth. It is not intended as professional quality

I am about to tell you a simple truth…elves are real. The stories you’ve heard about them are true…most, at least. Every now and then you may see a glimpse of one, a vision or a ghost..but many centuries ago, they lived…they lived and thrived…in their last days, however, they were at war…the light elves and their leader Holun, who wanted to live in peace with humanity, and the dark elves, and their leader Glendring who wanted nothing more than to grind the human race to dust…the story I am about to tell you is true…and it is the elves last days on Earth.

Holun was watching his kingdom with eyes keen enough to count the flaps of wings on a fly. He scanned his kingdom from his thrown, when he saw something that disturbed him…one of his kind fell to the ground, blood gushing from his throat. Holun swiftly rose from his throne, and rushed to call his troops to arms.

He was interrupted, however, by his best friend Kramen, who came flying through the doors.

“MY LORD!” cried Kramen, “THE DARK ELVES ARE ATTACKING!” With that, he collapsed to the ground, revealing an arrow in his back. He let out a cry of pain and agony.

Holun rushed to his aid, swiftly snatching the arrow from Kramen’s back. He examined the blade, turning it this way and that. An ominous glow shrouded it. “Enchanted.” he remarked.

“Forgive me…my friend.” Kramen whimpered.

It was as soon as those words were spoken that a loud boom was heard, as Holun’s foe Glendring marched through the door.

“HOLUN!” he cried, “THE LIGHT ELVES SHALL FALL TODAY!” He unsheathed his sword, which glimmered in the light. Holun did the same. He took a quick moment to scan the area around him to find that outside his castle the dark elves attacked his brethren. The woodlands fell and trees toppled. He grimaced with anger as his fist clenched.

With a loud “clang!” the swords met, attacking with uncanny speed and reflexes. The enchanted blades clashed again and again. Strikes were blocked, and sparks flew from friction. A swish of a sword missing it’s target was heard, as metal scraped flesh, and Holun let out a cry of pain.

“HA! ALREADY YOU WEAKEN!” Glendring mocked. The swords clashed, and Holun could practically taste the stench of Glendring’s breath. The stink of evil.

“You don’t understand, Holun.” he whispered. “It is our place to rule these humans…have not they conquered other beings? Did they not conquer natives in other countries? DO THEY NOT KEEP ANIMALS AS PETS?!” The two swung their blades with amazing strength, clashing and clanging against each other. “WE ARE THEIR MASTERS!” Glendring cried to the heavens. Lightning flashed behind him as he summoned a great storm. The woodlands fell, erupting into flames. A bolt crashed through the roof and connected with Holun, sending him flying across the room. He wiped the blood off his lip, yet Glendring gave him not time to react. He was upon him in seconds, swiftly drawing blood from his foe. He cut him like a butcher. He was a piece of meat to him that’s only purpose was to be slaughtered. Weakly, Holun lifted his blade in defense, yet it dropped from his hand. Blood splashed upon Glendring’s face and spattered across the floor. “THE ELVEN PEOPLE WILL BE UNITED UNDER MY RULE!” Glendring proclaimed.

Meanwhile, Kramen grabbed hold of the enchanted arrow that had struck him down, gripping it tightly. He knew his immortal life would come to an end soon, yet he had to do something to help his friend. Silent as the night, he strung his bow, and silently the arrow sailed through the air. With remarkable accuracy it plunged through Glendring’s chest, popping out the other side.

In a desperate move, Holun grabbed his sword and made a clean cut across Glendring’s neck, and it toppled from his body and rolled across the floor. His headless body collapsed to the ground, and all at once, time began to slow.

Holun looked across his kingdom. Kramen had fallen, and his son and brother were wounded in the invasion. Dark elves fell, and light elves fell. He knew there was only one thing to do.

“The battle will devastate the planet…” he marveled.

Taking hold of ancient runes by his throne, he made a circle of spells. He summoned the sacred words, and in a flash of light, he commanded the elves be banished to the “Otherworld.”

And thus, the race of elves was no more. We see them every now and again. Somehow, elves have managed to break the banishing spell, appearing as spirits haunting the night. Yet Holun’s spell protects the world from the threat of the dark elves…all is safe…yet progress has been made…and the spell may soon be lifted…

Author: Connor M. Perry

From an early age, I learned how to divide by four. See, two minutes after I was born, I discovered three other newborns hot on my heels. I was a quadruplet. And I needed to learn to how to share. Everything. At an early age, I took to writing so that I could have something unsharable. I began writing small stories online for my own enjoyment, and gradually moved to more ambitious ideas. I've been running my blog The Mythlings for two years now, publishing a new installment every Friday. I've enjoyed creating different worlds, characters and relationships in my stories. I currently live in Worcester, MA with my girlfriend, two cats, and a collection of swords.

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