here

 

 

Prologue~

 

          Did no one see it- The dancing light plummeting to Aevalyn? Were the people blind, even as it threatened to collide into the land they cherished? Or was it simply that they wished nothing could disturb their everlasting peace, and so could not bring themselves that would change their lives? The illusion of peace finally exposed for the fraud it truly is, and they could not be bothered; they kept their heads down. Whatever the circumstances were, the light fell, swallowed by land and sea and air.

          It fell.

          I fell.

          For, even with peace, everything must pass.

 

Chapter One:

 

          Stretching over the horizon, sunlight spilled over the hills and ocean, flooding the tiny village of Coral with its warmth. A curious village this was, and little was known about it by those who lived on the ‘outside.’ In Coral, the main principle to be followed was this, ‘keep yourself and those around you safe and pure.’ Now, pure is one of those words that holds a different definition for each individual: pure of mind, pure of spirit, pure of body are all slightly different in meaning. Coral’s defined it as the absence of all evil, and of course, evil was synonymous with the outside, technology, and above all else, elves. For elves had the power over the elements, something no human could ever learn, no matter how gifted. The Corallians grew bitter, and built a community of odd little houses and a great wall, keeping their own in and the influences of evil out.

          Ignorant of tolerance perhaps, but my no means stupid. Situated on the southern tip of the continent Aevalyn, it was surrounded on three by a lake which supplied water, food, and a pass time on hot days. They also had material with which to build, but it’s not the first thing that comes to mind. Unique only to Coral, and also where the village inherits its name, is a particular breed of coral that is sturdy, yet flexible, its only flaw being the unusually bright colors in which it grows. With this material the Corallians have built houses, furniture, and everything else that is able to be built. This makes the village a beautiful pastel painting of bright blues, pinks, oranges, yellows, and greens, complimented by the pale white sand underfoot, and accompanied by the laughter of children and telling of stories as old as the island itself, which caress the ears and imagination.

          One particularly cloudy day, a young girl of only seventeen was kneeled down in the cool sand, absent mindedly gazing out to the sea as her fingers fiddled with grains of sand. A crash of thunder over head snapped her from her trance-like state, and she turned her dark green eyes upward, towards the ever-darkening sky. Always had she hated storms, uneasiness crept over her whenever the wind began to howl, no matter how much she tried to deny it to her friends. Sighing, she brushed her wavy blond hair out of her face.

          “’Tis an ill omen,” She muttered to herself.

          “What is, Cat?”

          Startled, she quickly spun herself around to see Kytair smiling down at her with his mirthful eyes and arrogant smile.

          “The…er… bad weather. It warns us of a fateful occurrence in our future.”

          Kytair shook his head, something like pity in his bright blue eyes. “You shouldn’t believe everything Elder says, Caitrin. He is wise, granted, but wise in his myths and legends which have long since past. I suppose you stand by Elder’s belief that the rest of Aevalyn is corrupt as well?” His tone was mocking; though his intent was only to make Caitrin think, not anger her. This is why he looked so taken aback when she whispered in harsh tones, her eyes glistening at the rims:

          “How dare you, Kytair. Elder has done so much for us as a community, and you should be especially grateful, for he has raised you as one would his own son.” She glared darkly at him as she pushed past, leaving him confused and indignant.

          “Perhaps,” he said to no one in particular, “if constantly reminding one that he has come from filth, and has been breed from evil, is raising as a son.”

          He sighed, wishing that he had chosen his words more skillfully, and had not made his Cat so irritable. For that is the last thing he wanted.

          Maybe she’s right, he thought as he ran his slim hand through his messy red hair.  Maybe I am too bitter, but the truth was he felt justified in his anger. He was the only elf in Coral, and Elder repeated time and again that there would never be another. Nobody knew the circumstances of Kytair’s arrival, only that nearly thirteen years ago a small six year old elf came to the village looking scared, hungry, and lost. Elder had let him stay, for reasons he had yet to explain. Kytair felt like an outcast in Coral, and rightfully so, for the other villagers were wary of him, for no reason other then his race, which was no fault of his. He would have left long ago, if he could have remembered anything from his life before Coral, but his memory was un-yielding. Elder said that his vanished memories was a sign of his transformation rebirth into a pure soul. Kytair thought it was a lot of superstitious nonsense.

          But he gave you a home, his consciousness nagged. He was an elf that had been allowed to stay.

          “Cat! Cat I’m sorry!” He jogged to catch up with her, and was grateful when he saw that she had not gone that far. When she saw him, she rolled her eyes.

          “…Are you telling me the truth? Or do you just not desire me to refrain from speaking to you for the rest of my life?”

          He smiled amiably at her. “Can’t both options happily co-exist?”

          Returning the smile, she said, “I suppose… By the way, have you seen where Nellwyn got herself to? Mother told me that she had something important to say, but I haven’t seen her.”

          Kytair shook his head. “More like you forgot what you were doing and starting daydreaming. But no, I haven’t seen her. Let’s find her…”

          They began to walk slowly through the village, weaving between the bright homes and small giggling children. They passed the Tool Maker’s shop, and looking inside. Both were surprised to see Nellwyn talking with Nathaniel. Nellwyn smiled when they entered, but that was anything but a rare occurrence. She was perpetually cheerful, polar opposite to Nathaniel, who loved to complain and point out anything negative his exceptionally keen mind could think of. He worked as the Tool Maker’s apprentice, though not surprisingly, he hated his job. Regrettably for him, the Tool Maker was also his father.

          It was those four, Caitrin, Kytair, Nellwyn and Nathaniel that made up the teenaged population in Coral, and they were all very good friend, if only by default.

          “There you two are!” Nellwyn said, with a slight smirk.  “I have been scouring Coral trying to find you. Elder told me earlier he wishes to speak to us. I know now what of, but isn’t it exciting?”

          “You think everything is exciting, Nell,” Nathaniel sighed heavily.

          Caitrin laughed, showing perfect white teeth. “Perhaps you should take a cue from Nell. She does seem more agreeable then you most days.”

          “‘Agreeable’ is only a matter of perspective. Some people would find her perpetual optimism most un­-agreeable.”

          “Be nice Nate,” Kytair warned, and he fell silent.

          Caitrin rolled her eyes again as she left, the rest following her example.

          They entered Elder’s house, a dark navy blue colored, which was centered in the middle of the village. Inside, there was a thick smoke that drifted all around them, and the dim outline of highly decorated rugs in red and black underneath their feet. Elder’s home consisted of a single, large, round room, where at the center, at all times of the day, Elder was seated cross legged either reading, counseling, or just carrying on friendly conversation. He was advanced in age; no one knew how old he was anymore, and it seemed like he would endure until the end of time.

          “Greeting. Please, take a seat.” His thin boney hand gestured, and they obediently sat. Slowly he took in a shaky breath, and began his tale with furrowed eyebrows.

          “I have recently received a letter from Thaddeus, king of the elves,” Nellwyn gasped, but he continued, “and he has requested something monumental. I’m afraid though, that I cannot deny his request. Read the letter for yourself.” He handed it to Caitrin first. It read:

‘Greetings Elder Yenoh,

It has been a while since we last spoke, though I find myself of the opinion that our silence is entirely intentional, seeing your ‘no elves’ law of Coral. But I digress. We are calling a council of Aevalyn to discuss happenings that are most probably unknown to you, but as you choose to live in arrogant ignorance, it would be extraordinarily impolite to share details of the ‘outside’ as you call it. So here are your options.

1) Ignore this letter. It’s your choice. But you will die. Your whole little village will be wiped completely off the map of Aevalyn. I think it would be an improvement, but again, to each his own.

          2) You travel to Kismet. The trip will kill you, and then we’d move on to option three and Coral would be leaderless. All considered a loose-loose situation for the both of us.

3) You send Caitrin Micason, Kytair Teral, Nellwyn Sehn, and Nathaniel Smithson in your place. Yes, I know who they are, and I know they are the most capable in Coral, since they have not yet been totally indoctrinated by your backwards way of thinking.

          I suppose you could argue a fourth option, sending someone other then those mentioned, but know this, I won’t accept them. Even it you send them all the way to my door, I will turn them away.

Think well old ‘friend’,

Thaddeus.’

 

          While each one read, Elder watched them carefully. After living as long as he had, reading people had become second nature. He could tell easily both Caitrin and Nellwyn were scared, but willing to obey. Nathaniel looking apprehensive and Kytair looked…excited. Happier then Elder had ever seen him before, and Elder felt a twinge of guilt...

          “The choice is yours, of course,” Elder began as soon as they had read through, “but I have spoken with your parents and they have all agreed. We’re not happy about these arrangements, but what is done is done.” He nodded, trying to assure himself that he was making the right decision.

          Nellwyn smiled weakly, “I’m sure everything will be alright…”

          “So, are you a coward of a liar?” Nathaniel growled as Elder, who looks utterly shocked. Caitrin gasped as she shouted:

          “Nathaniel! That’s completely inappro-“

          “Let him speak!” Kytair yelled over Caitrin, who looked ready to hit both of the boys, but Nathaniel quickly continued.

          “You are either a coward, sending us into a world you have been teaching us was a wicked place to face something that is beyond our capabilities,  or you have been lying about the severity of the outside.”

          “It is mere desperation that guides my actions. Thaddeus would not request you if it were not vital, and he is right, the trip would kill me. I fear for your lives, but I am helpless. I suggest you pack your things, you leave at dusk.” Elder bowed his fragile head, signaling the conversation was at its end. They left, standing in silence out side of Elder’s house.

          “We should go pack then,” Nellwyn said, looking concerned. It was unnerving to the rest of the group to see her without a smile.

          “Not so excited now?” Nathaniel asked.

          Kytair punched him hard in the shoulder, resulting in a dull thud and Nathaniel’s silence.

          “Dusk is in about three hours… Hopefully we get to where we’re going before the storm breaks,” Caitrin muttered.

          Without another word, they disbanded, each retreating to their respective homes. Caitrin’s mother could barely look at her, for tears made her vision blurry, and the pain of losing her daughter made her chest ache. Nellwyn’s parents embraced her, as did her seven brothers and sisters. They all helped her pack, and then spent the rest of their time together praying for her safe return. Nathaniel’s reception was less emotional. His father clasped his shoulder, gruffly telling him all would turn out for the better, and they packed in silence.

          Kytair returned to his empty house. No one was there to reassure him, cry for him, or tell him he would be missed.

          As dusk, they met at the entrance to Coral, a place they had never traveled farther then. The girl’s eyes were both red and puffy.

          Elder was waiting for them with a large map in his withered hands. “This is where you are,” he unfurled the map, revealing a huge island shaped faintly like a shield. There were three major sections, the North West and east. In the very south, at the very tip of the island was Coral, a spec on Aevalyn. This is where Elder’s finger lay. He traced a path to the east, running through the land called Firel, all the way to the north, to Grayen.

          “Once in Grayen, you will take a boat to Kismet, where Thaddeus awaits,” he pointed to a small island to the north west of Grayen. He then rolled it up, handing it to Kytair.

          “I wish you all the luck possible, for you will need it.”