Fire & Ice: The Silver Flame

Chapter One: The Raid

The sun was setting over the quiet village of Elderglen, casting a warm orange glow over the fields and forests that surrounded the small humble settlement. The elven village had lived with few and far between attacks, a predominantly peaceful place for generations, it's people tending to the land and preparing for the possibility that their children might one day be called to fight for the Kingdom of Liora as Dragon Riders. But that evening, the peace was shattered.

Sirena, no older than twenty seven (seven human years) sat on the porch of her family's stone cottage, her silver hair catching the fading light. She was playing with a small wooden sword her father had carved for her, pretending to fend off imaginary enemies.

"One day, I'll be just like the Dragon Riders," she whispered to herself, jabbing at the air with a fierce determination. Her father, Eryndor, chuckled softly as he watched her from inside the house.

"You'll wear yourself out before dinner, Sirena," her mother, Eriniel, teased gently as she stirred a pot of stew over the fire.

"I'm practicing, Mama!" Sirena replied, her voice full of innocence. "I'll need to be ready if I'm ever chosen by a Dragon."

Before her mother could respond, a low, guttural sound echoed across the trees, causing the entire village to fall eerily silent. Sirena's ears perked up, and she lowered her wooden sword. Her father's face immediately darkened with concern as he stood from where he was sitting on the porch, looking toward the edge of the village.

"Eryndor, what is it?" Eriniel asked, sensing the sudden tension.

"I don't know," he muttered, moving to the window. "But something's wrong."

As if in answer, a deafening roar ripped through the air. The ground seemed to tremble as the sound of heavy footsteps and the clash of metal echoed from the trees. A column of black smoke began to rise in the distance, and suddenly, the village bell tolled-the warning signal for an attack.

"ORCS!" Someone screamed from the village center.

Panic erupted as the villagers scramble to hide or flee. Eryndor's face paled. He grabbed his sword from the wall and turned to his family. "Eriniel, take Sirena. Go to the cellar. Now!"

"But..." Eriniel began.

"NOW!" He barked, his voice full of urgency. "I'll hold them off as long as I can."

Without hesitation, Eriniel scooped Sirena into her arms and rushed toward the trapdoor hidden beneath the kitchen floor. Eryndor followed and knelt beside them, pilling the door open and guiding them inside. "Stay quiet, and don't come out until it's safe," he whispered before kissing Eriniel's forehead and Sirena's cheek. "I love you both."

"I love you, papa!" Sirena cried softly, clutching her wooden sword close to her chest.

Eryndor nodded and closed the trapdoor, his heart heavy as advised Eriniel to lock it from the inside. He turned and stood at the ready, the sounds of battle growing closer by the second.

Beneath the floor, Sirena held tightly to her mother as they listened to the chaos outside. Shouts and the guttural growls of orcs filled the air. Metal clashed, and the ground shook as the village of Elderglen was consumed by the heat of battle. The sounds grew louder and louder, and despite her mother's attempts to calm her, Sirena couldn't stop the tears from welling in her eyes.

"Mama, I'm scared," she whispered.

"I know, my love," Eriniel whispered back, holding her close. "But your father is brave and has seen battle before...as has the village. We'll be safe here."

Suddenly, a roar shook the air. This roar was different-deeper, more powerful than the sounds the orcs made. Sirena's eyes widened in realization.

"Dragons!" She gasped, her heart pounding in her chest.