Of Elves and Humans

Chapter 1. Willowdale

Willowdale was nothing more than a common village, nothing exciting ever happened here. There were no grand halls or buildings of extravagance, there was only homes and markets made from wood and stone. Surrounding Willowdale was a large river that flowed into the distance. A few miles out there were fields of vegetables and fruits.

The civilization of Willowdale were farmers and merchants. They weren't the most friendly of folk, preferring to keep to themselves and ignore the outside world. There was no such thing as Elves, Dwarves or Hobbits here, they were only legends read in children books.

And it would remain so... Or would it?

~~*~~

The early morning sun shone brightly in Willowdale and cast its rays down on the village. The few clouds in the sky cast shadows against the dirt ground and provided shade to the men, women, and children who scurried about their business. The Autumn air smelled of freshly baked bread as cooks opened their wooden doors for customers. Men made their way to the fields with chattering young boys at their side and the women tended to the children as they washed clothes in the river.

Two children, a red haired boy, and a brunette freckled girl, approximately the age of seven summers played together near the riverside as their mothers worked. They had each picked up a large stick and swung them as though it were a sword. They laughed as they skipped about the tall grass and knocked the sticks together in swordplay.

"I am a mighty elf!" the older boy whose name was Damon exclaimed proudly as twirled clumsily twirled the stick in his hand.

"You sure aren't!" Emilla cried in protest. "Elves aren't ugly."

"So then I make the perfect elf--" He tossed a rock into the river--" because I'm the most dashing!"

Emilla snorted and threw her stick away then slumped down on a fallen log. "Do you think--well, do you think elves are actually real?"

Damon shrugged and picked up a stoned and tossed it at a squirrel.

"My father says they ar' only in storybooks. I don't think they ar' real neither."

"You think so?" Emilla questioned. "I'd sure like to see one someday...mama tells me I shouldn't live in a fairy tale and papa says I'm stupid for even thinking they are real."

"I'd say! It isn't all that stupid. But all you do is read and dream, it's out of the ordinary for a farmin' town as this."

Emilla huffed and pulled out a small leather-covered journal and a charcoal pencil. Stray strands of brunette hair ticked her face as she opened the page and began to finish a sketch of an elven warrior with a longbow.

~~*~~

Blonde and chestnut hair streamed like banners in the wind, strong bodies sat upon large galloping steeds. Bright eyes roamed over the expanse of the land, searching for a place to rest. The chestnut-haired figure commanded his horse to a halt, his bright grey eyes searched the grassy plains.