The Stone of Shadows

1. An Elf in the Snow

The winter's dawn cast over the pine forest. The birds announced its arrival. Their chirps bounced off the tall mountains, echoing across the valley. The wooden giants prevented the half-risen sun from thawing the ground, the snow a scattered blanket across the bed of dry needles. The deer trekked the great valley, finding remnants of edible flora frozen over by glassy ice. They came across what appeared to be a black sheet made of silk, foreign to the valley. A fawn poked his nose at the black sheet. The sheet lifted itself, revealing a broken woman. The deer flew off, leaving the woman with tattered clothes and scars.

She looked at her hands, seeing if she could move her fingers. They cranked slightly, like old rusting gears. She felt her nose drip icicles. Her cheeks were purple from the extreme cold. Her blue skin was covered in bruises. She could feel the cold freezing her black hair together. Her wear didn't help. Her black linen, gold-leafed gown and dark silk cap were useless. She wasn't prepared for such conditions. No Dark Elf of her stature could be. Last night, she celebrated the Winter Solstice, and now she lay in the snow of a land she wasn't sure she'd been to. She rose, barely standing on her frozen feet. She then crossed the slight opening, swaying left to right for a bit, until her foot hit a wire on the ground.

A whip-like stick came crashing down upon her, slamming her on the back. She was thrown to the ground, letting out a horrible cry. This rabbit trap was the last straw, the final knife to cut her beaten body. A few minutes she lay there, not trapped, but unable to move her limbs from the cold. The time passed slowly, a painful and fearful passage of time. Her death was certain. But the fates did not let her go out so easily. A man came rushing towards her, shocked by what had happened.

"By the Divines," said the man. "Here... let me get you out."

He pulled her out from under the rabbit trap. He was much taller than she, bundled in thick furs. His bushy black beard hid his face. The human made her feel alienated. "How did a Dark Elf like you get all the way up here?"

His question came off as an accusation, as if her presence in this snowy valley was a pox on him. She couldn't answer his question. Either her tongue was frozen, or she was so shocked by his foreign appearance, that she simply didn't want to offend him.

"Come with me," he said, sighing. "Let's get you by the fire. You're lucky I found you so soon. You could've been an icicle!"

The journey from the trap to the man's home was fortunately short, saving the Dark Elf from certain death. The homestead was elegant. The main home had a roof curved like the mountains, the tiles shaped like green scales. A guest house sat on the side, displaying nomadic decorations of horses and elk. Both roofs of the houses hung low. The door to the main house descended into a hearth. She could feel the approaching warmth thawing her body. They came down the stairs, pelts and hides hung on the walls, thick blankets surrounding the warm fire. They sat before the fire, the man heading towards his pantry. The fire had brought her limbs to life, as she took a seat on the warm mattress. The man returned with a pot of water, setting it over the hearth. He then sat down opposite, looking at the blue woman as she slid closer to the fire. She was quite beautiful in the light, the ice thawing off her blue skin. She had large yellow eyes, her pitch black hair streaming over her long, pointed ears. The ice dripped onto the fur seat beside the hearth. The man had never seen a Dark Elf, let alone one dressed for high society, wrapped in a black linen, gold-leafed gown, caped with dark silk. "Where did you come from?"

"The Winter Solstice celebration," said the woman, quickly.

"Must have been quite the event," commented the man. "Where was this celebration?"

"My castle," she said, looking up. "My father's the Count of Northphalia."

"I've never heard of it," said the man. "What's your name?"