The Fallen

Chapter One

  Sunlight filtered through the leaves, painting the forest in a dappled array of green. In the trees birds greeted the morning with a chorus of song, so many different tunes mixing to form the perfect music of nature. Through the underbrush and around the trees squirrels flitted in an endless search for food. Life exulted in this brief summer of light. Beyond the trees there was a clearing, a beautiful grove through which there flowed a stream that came rippling over a waterfall back in the trees to flow like a river of purest crystal through the emerald grass before disappearing into the forest once again. It was here that the Neiran Clan had made their home. Within the trees around the edge there were Haelwyd, wooden platforms crafted from the living wood of the forest and as much a part of it as the leaves themselves. Upon these platforms were the homes of the elves, beautifully sweeping structures of wood and stone that seemed to have about them an air of ancient sorrow, as if they too mourned for the elves. Within the clearing itself there stood more usual structures, recognisable to any traveller as smoke houses, a tavern and various crafting posts where made the elves their tools and weapons of war. About this village walked the elves themselves, graceful and lithe they stood tall against a world that had turned its back on them.

"Sylvaren" cried a voice from a nearby tree top, "where do you think you're going?" Jiména looked down from the branch upon which she was perched, her arched eyes piercing the figure how had just passed beneath with an almost accusatory stare,

"I was just on my way out for a hunt" the figure replied, raising his voice so that it carried to the girl in the trees.

"Not without me you're not" the girl responded sharply, before sliding gracefully off her branch and landing the 15ft drop with the agility of a cat. She rose quickly and looked at the figure, a mischievous grin playing at the corners of her small mouth. 'Small' described her quite well since she was, in almost every aspect, small. At not even 5 foot she was by far the shortest person in the village, her hair was black and lustrous and would have fallen to just below her shoulders had it not been caught up in a bun at the back of her head. She was not an elf. That much was clear, and explained her short size. She was dressed in leather plating and wore beneath a chainmail shirt, upon her back there was strapped a thin rifle and about her waist there were two pistols and, beside them, two thin knives with ornate wooden hilts carved with elven designs. Jiména was of a very different build to that of the elf that was now before her, while she was rather small, he was not. At over 6 foot he was of average height for an elf, like all their race he was lightly built and had the classic olive skin that was characteristic of elves in that part of the world. He had long dark hair, though lighter than Jiména's, and angled eyes of hazel hue. Like her, he too was dressed in leather plate, however, unlike hers, his was heavier while lacking the chainmail. Instead of a gun, the elf, Sylvaren, held a bow, a fairly archaic weapon though one to which he was curiously attached to. Upon his back was a quiver of arrows and about his waist there hung a longsword in the style of Jiména's knives.

"How could I hope to stop you" Sylvaren laughed, his eyes softening and a large grin appearing on his otherwise sombre face "You're welcome to join me"

"You couldn't stop me" Jiména pointed out, grinning, "but thank you all the same". Jiména drew her rifle and quickly led the way into the forest. Sylvaren, still laughing, gripped his bow and followed her into the trees.

                                                                                                 *                              

  "Did you see Cascus?" Sylvaren asked quietly, ducking under a particularly low branch "He was asking after you"

"Cascus was here?!" Jiména exclaimed, looking back over her shoulder as she did so "why didn't you come and get me? It's been months since he was last here" she continued moving forward, eyes alert and rifle ready. She was well trained, Sylvaren thought and for a brief moment he allowed himself to feel proud of her before bringing his attention back to the matter at hand.