Journey To Destiny Unknown An Elvish Tale

Part 2 Unveiling The Truth

Chapter 2

"Well I am glad to hear that." An elderly voice pierces through shadows, relieving the tension in the air. A small elven woman emerges from the darkness, a small wooden cane that is tangled with wooden knots leading the way.

Sylvonna looks up from her hiding place in the arms of her protector trying to sneak a glance at the visitor. A small figure stands before them, hunching over her walking stick, time aging her face with many wrinkles. Her pointed ears curve forward sticking out on either side of head that is covered with thick silver hair that is pulled loosely into bun at the nape of her neck, stray hairs curling about her face. Long, gray toned robes drape over her frail body, around her waist a lengthy belt whose tassels hang to her sandals. She carries a leather bound book of long length in the crook of her arm.

"Who are you?" Trayven slips out in a whisper of awe at this woman who stands before them.

"I am Soclair, Trayven. Would you mind stepping away from the reason that has brought me here?" Her voice has an aged yet sweet quality. She speaks to him as though she has known him his whole life yet he has no knowledge of this woman, who she is, nor how she knows of him. Very few Flanorians are aware of Trayven due to his parental circumstance.

He is very hesitant to obey the woman until he catches her gaze which is very commanding and communicates to him that she is not to be disobeyed. He swiftly moves behind Sylvonna, his hands firmly on the sides of her shoulders, letting her know he is still there, protecting her.

The woman slowly inches her way towards Sylvonna her gaze softens, happiness washing over her previously stern face, a grin stretching from ear to ear. She stops a few inches from Sylvonna, drapes her cane over one of her thin arms, sets her book down on the wooden floor, and takes one of Sylvonna's hands into her soft palm covering it with the other, concealing it in warmth. "Hello my dear." She greets, her aged blue eyes sparkling. She has been waiting for this moment for almost a millennium. "Your transformation is now complete." She whispers, just audible for Sylvonna to hear.

Sylvonna breaks out of her awestruck trance, shaking her head slightly. "How do you know of us?" She motions to Trayven and herself with a single movement of her head. The old woman chuckles to herself softly. "I have been watching you of course." Looks of horror overcome both Trayven's and Sylvonna's face as they learn they have a personal stalker.

Soclair registers their faces and instantly realizes what they are thinking. She drops Sylvonna hand in order to wave both of hers to recant her statement "Not like that, for goodness sake! I have been charged with task of seeking out and presenting the Gifted Royal of Flanoria should one exist in my time as Elder. After all these years of waiting, you are finally ready." The old elf gleams with pride her pale cheeks gaining the slightest bit of color.

Sylvonna tilts her head to the side in confusion, her eyebrows furrow trying to decipher what this woman is talking about. Soclair simply raises a hand to stop Sylvonna's attempt. "Let me explain what I am referring to." She slowly retrieves the book from the floor, her frail arms almost unable to bear the weight and opens it, one cover resting in one hand, the other on her walking stick.

"It began 10,000 years ago, there was a time of great peace where harmony swam through the air like a sweet, lighthearted song. Elves roamed to the east the land they named Flanoria, where they made the woods their dwelling, the forest their shelter. The coast to the south, Orica, housed the Merlanders, known as "people of the sea on land." The dragon keepers, also known as the Flame Tamers, belonged to the mountains, the land of Trundor, which lie deep below the stone. The west was where the air dwellers, the Mistrals, took to the sky on their griffins protecting the air; their land called Cordea.