PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE

When I was a young boy, my mother regularly took me to the Nesa Woods. We elves have a habit of being deeply connected to nature, especially forested areas because of our history of self-sufficiency; living off the land. The lesson elven children learned in school was that we all sprouted from seeds fallen from Iptola, or “World Tree" as it's referred to in simple-speak. Mother said Dwarves and Humes came from Iptola as well; that they and elves all share a bond in that regard.

While traveling through the Nesa Woods one day, mother was teaching me a new lesson: life. She would lecture me on the importance of valuing all life on Archos as we walked through tall grass and weeds that surrounded mossy rocks and thick tree trunks laying on the ground. Silence never came to the Nesa Woods; not because mother liked to talk, but because there was always a bird chirping or a cricket playing its song- something like that.

We continued to walk through several thickets of grass as we heard grut stags galloping through the woods. As we approached Iptola, my mother continued her lesson.

"All creatures of this world once lived in this lush place," she said. "We weren't always so hostile to the Humes and Dwarves. Although they’ll likely tell you a different tale, elves know at one point we once called them our brothers and sisters."

"Like Gordea?" I asked.

"Yes, even her," said my mother.

Gordea was a little Dwarven girl who was snatched from her lands in the north by a nidhog; a nasty, flying creature whose talons rip flesh like parchment.

The large beast flew Gordea all the way to our lands and right above the elven city of Enuè (pronounced ON-WAY-OO). Guards in the city took to their mounts and chased down the nidhog, and before launching arrows into its chest they noticed the little dwarven girl in its clutches. A swift rescue brought her back down to our city, where she lived until the Priestess decided what to do with her.

For a time, I'd visit Gordea in the Thaumaturgory, where she learned to craft magic from the most skilled magicians. One day she was taken away from Enuè. I was never told why, but I like to think she was sent back to her home north of the Thunderspire mountains.

Mother and I were now close to Iptola. The massive Tree reached far into the skies as it does today. My mother said regardless if you reside in the eleven city or any other land on Archos, you had a duty to ensure the World Tree's safety; war was never an excuse for danger to come to It.

"Why is the Tree so important?" I asked my mother.

"Iptola is what gives life to our world" she replied.

She withdrew her oak staff and cast a magic spell at a nearby boulder, draining physical essence from the tree. In her hand, she now held that essence. "Magic shards are what make up everything in our world," she said as she pointed to everything in our surrounding.

"What about me, mother?" I asked.

She smiled. "Even you, Hollum," she said as she pointed her dark finger on my chest. "You have magic in you, just like I do, and just like your father did."

"What happened to father's magic when he died?" I asked.

"It went back into Archos and eventually to Iptola," she replied. "All life returns to the World Tree to be renewed, repurposed, then gifted again to the world as magic in a new form."

After walking some more, we approached the great Tree. Its leaves were a deep green and its branches had a lengthy span. Critters had taken refuge between the great splits in the bark. There were wooden walkways built into the Tree long ago when the people of Archos were tree-folk. The walkways are still there, but now the hovels built into the hollowed-out trunk were empty, and the only steps taken upon the walkway today were those of scavengers.

I approached the Tree's trunk and placed my hand on it. It was warm. I could feel magic emitting from it.

"You feel it, don't you, Hollum?" my mother asked. "The might of it, you feel it, yes?"

"I do, mother," I said with a slight tremble in my voice. Iptola was intimidating not only because of its size, but because Elves revere the Tree as some sort of deity; a lesser-god.

"Respect Iptola," said my mother. "Love this tree as you love me and your sister. Then replicate that love with every person you meet. Without heart there is no peace, and without peace, there is chaos." She was now pointing into the sky. Above, the World Tree, above Archos orbited Nol. It was Archos' moon, but it was not whole.

When the people of Archos were tree folk, a large meteor pierced Nol and left destruction in its path. Some debris fell to Archos in the form of meteorites. At first, the people of the world thought they were gifts from the Entity.

Mother says creatures crept from the meteorites and merged with the rocks of the land, the waters of the ocean, the air we breathe, the light that illuminates the dark, and even darkness itself. These creatures now walk among us as beings known as elementals.

Something else came from those meteorites. They're called a different name depending on where you live, but the most common name was "wraith." No one truly understands the whole nature of these creatures; only that they are blood-thirsty and will kill every living thing or person in their path.

            Mother and I were now walking back towards the lake not far from Nessa Woods. A caravan waited for us on a road that led back to Enuè. As we approached, the driver greeted us.

           "All done for today, Meruna?" he asked.

           "Yes," she replied. "He'll be a scholar in no time."

As we stepped into the caravan I dreaded the thought of sticking my head into tomes all day. Most elves believed we have one purpose to always hold dear: intelligence conquers all. Whereas my sister was gifted in school, I was less so. I preferred to create things and to build. My father encouraged me to learn the craft of carpentry, but my mother insisted knowledge was far superior. The fact that carpentry involves knowledge creates a sense of irony in her statement, but I listened to her regardless.

Our caravan traveled along the bumpy road as the driver hummed an old folk song, presumably to the horses carrying us for the ride. Although not the Nesa Woods, this pathway had a bountiful number of trees. Among them did the goblins stalk prey, waiting to knock an unsuspecting victim unconscious and loot their bodies. The little imps attack without warning, but mother always had a lightning spell on hand to zap their tiny bodies.

The road began to become rocky as we climbed a hill. When the wheels nearly reached the top, one snapped and caused the caravan to come to a halt. The driver managed to get out in time and push the caravan over the top of the hill with the aid of the horses pulling their weight.

"I can fix this," said the driver as he began to cast a spell to fabricate a temporary wheel made from magic shards. Typically, magicians would use framework magic to build parts of homes they planned to make improvements, or perhaps plan a temporary fort near the battlefront; however, we often find additional uses for our skills than intended.

Just when the driver was nearing his completion of the wheel, a growling noise came from behind us down the hill. A sheep yelled in agony as a panther chewed into the poor small creature's neck. Mother and I stepped out of the caravan where we saw blood dripping along the sheep's corpse as well as the panther's mouth. The vicious feline now had its eyes fixed on us.

"Stand back, Hollum," she said. "These creatures are fierce."

"But you taught me how to cast a fireball," I protested. "I can help!"

"Another time," she said as lightning formed around her staff. She pointed it directly at the panther and began to shock it. The creature wailed in pain but lunged from the sheep's body and headed up the hill.

"D-dear me!" exclaimed the driver. He had a magic staff too but was clearly too in shock to do anything. "We must leave!" His yelling startled the horses and they let out a collective whiney.

"No," said my mother. "We run when a battle cannot be won."

I stood behind the caravan with the driver cowering next to me as we both watched my mother battled the beast. She wore a set of leather armor that wouldn't hold up well against such a beast; however, my mother was extraordinary. Her fierce nature would come out when danger was present; more so if I was in danger.

The panther scratched my mother and she fell to the ground. She cried out in pain as blood dripped from the wound on her shoulder. We looked at each other as the panther slowly prowled onto her. Although I stood in horror, my mother looked brave. She simply smiled at me and quickly got to her feet. She cast several more lightning bolts at the creature and managed to dodge a swiped from its claws. Mother was agile, and casting a spell to make her move faster on increased her movement as she fought the beast.

It managed to slap it once in the skull, putting it into a deeper state of rage. That's when mother's eyes began to glow as she cast another spell I'd never seen her use before. She pointed her staff at a nearby boulder and after a moment it too began to glow. Using the staff as some sort of untethered manipulator, mother lifted the boulder and hurled it at the panther, smashing it into a nearby tree. The beast's claws fidgeted for a moment, then stopped.

Mother walked over to the tree to make sure her attacker was dead. She knelt and beckoned for me.

"Come here," she said. "You know what we must do." I knelt next to her and we put our hands on the panther's mangled body. We closed our eyes and recited the prayer.

To Iptola you go. On Archos you'll stay. Last breath now taken, you've arrived to your last day. We pray you're not angry. We pray you have peace. Rest easy creature of this world.

We stood up and mother pointed her staff at the dead panther. She drained its essence and in her palms, she now had a handful of magic shards. She dropped them into my hands.

"Always remember no matter who you become and what path in life you choose to take, we are all made from these magical things." said mother. "Because we are one in the same, treat the fallen no different than the living. We all come from these, and we all return to these."

                That day I understood what my mother was teaching me. The war between factions in the world had brought mass hatred to this world. Mother believes this is what caused the wraiths to thrive on Archos when they arrive. That's why she wanted me to know respect for all life: because war can change that.

After the caravan driver was no longer cowering, he transported my mother and I back to Enuè. He didn't charge my mother for the return fee because of "unforeseen circumstances that likely ruined the trip." We disembarked the caravan then walked towards our house. I was back home in my city and within a few years I would join the defensive front of the elven faction, Estel.

However, my years fighting the Dwarves and Humes didn't last forever. I would one day find myself escaping city and military life to make a quiet home not far from Nesa Woods. Little did I know; my small private settlement would become a symbol I never expected it to be.