Young Writers Society

(Note: I'm working on this with a friend who isn't part of YWS, and as she is uncomfortable with posting an entire book online, probably only the first few chapters will be posted. However, I could REALLY use the feedback, since this is my number 1 project! Thanks!)

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The last tribe of elves spent all their time wandering through the less friendly center of the forest, where the mists rarely dispersed, the trees were giants, and wraiths, ghouls, and specters laid waiting around each shadowy trunk. They were a ragged band. Many had watched their loved ones die at the hands of the humans. Many of the fair folk, also, muttered amongst themselves as their king and queen led them through the Elden Forest. They felt as though Queen Marlene should have allowed them to fight back, rather than running into the woods like a pack of yellow-bellied cowards.

The elves were a loyal sort of people. They truly cared for their queen and king—especially their queen—and the two young princesses who were so at home in the darkest depths of the forest. But they were close to breaking from the hardship and alien darkness of the deep woods. It was the area of silence, where no nymphs or faeries of light could normally be seen and the trees seemed to brood in their ancient wisdom, but those two little girls scampered through with rapturous abandon. It was like a reminder of the days when the elves had been carefree and innocent, and yet so wise.

Those days were long gone, as well as the splendor that had once been the trademark of the elves. They were skilled craftsmen and naturally tall and strong, a magic which couldn't be harnessed running through their veins.

Rain began in the forest; the heavy canopy turned it into a dreary mist, although the younger princess, Rain Pebble, was likely to call it “dreamy” instead. She was nine years old, and her sister, Moon Willow, was ten. They were both delicate little things, slender and a little taller than most of the other children, with curling hair. Rain's hair was a manageable wave, like her mother's, although it was a rich brown rather than ashy bronze. Willow's hair was nearly impossible to comb, being thick and plentiful in hundreds of tightly coiled spring-like ringlets.

The two girls groaned a little as the procession stopped. They wanted to play in the rain despite the oncoming night. Queen Marlene was hustled away for another counsel about how to survive in the dangerous heart of the forest and Brook came forward to help the girls. She was a young elf, only just twenty, and a distant cousin of the queen. She had been helping care for the two girls since the war had begun. “Willow, Rain, come and help me get you something to eat, okay?”

Willow was looking past the small group of children romping around towards her friend Jahin, who was strolling under the trees, whistling. Then Rain tugged her along. “Come on, I'm hungry.” Willow followed her after one more backwards glance.

As the two girls sat together nearly an hour later, staring at the venison and berries upon their plates with despondent eyes, Brook finally asked them what was wrong. Even Rain had only eaten a few bites before halting abruptly. Brook knelt in front of them so their eyes were level. “Hey, you two, what's going on?”

“Mom and Dad are fighting again,” Rain and Willow said at exactly the same time, then glanced at each other strangely. Brook waited a moment.

“You know, I don't hear anything. And if they are, I'm sure its just because they need some sleep.”

Willow glared at her with burning eyes. “Don't pretend you haven't noticed,” she said, her voice unexpectedly sharp. Brook had to remind herself she was talking to a ten-year-old. Willow continued, dwindling into a depressed murmur. “They fight all the time now. Father thinks she should have ordered the elves to counterattack the humans. He also has this notion that because he's male, he should be the one making wartime decisions. Mama doesn't want us to fight. She says there are better ways, but for now the best thing to do is stay away from the humans...until they calm down.... she said they'd never follow us in this far.”

This was more than the two little girls were supposed to know, but Rain didn't look surprised at all as she nodded along with the same drawn expression on her face. “I think Father's being too hard on Mother. After we were ambushed, we didn't have enough people to fight. After all, we haven't seen the sister tribes in years. We don't know if they're even still alive. There aren't enough of us to fight.”

Willow was looking at the ground. “Maybe he's right, though,” she whispered. “They killed Iwena, even though she was months pregnant. All of my cousins are dead...my uncle is dead....”

“Hey, look,” Brook interrupted, a little sharply. “You two are too young to worry about this, okay? Leave the worrying for the rest of us. You try to finish eating and then I'll give you something to help you sleep. You're children—stay children for a while longer, okay?” Brook could tell they didn't quite understand what she meant by the last comment, so she patted their heads and smiled. “I'll go call Jahin and Maitelarein over. You can play for a while before you go to bed, okay?”

Rain probably would have refused, but she knew Jahin was the one person Willow was always willing to see. The two sisters were close, each the others best friend, and they were generally incapable of keeping secrets from one another. Brook walked over to the children and began to help their mothers gather them close to trees, where there was the most shelter. The rain was pounding against the canopy, but remained a simple mist—although, when it dripped from the leaves, it came down in large, icy drops. Willow seized Jahin's wrist as he ran by with his sister on his heels, wheeling him off course so he stumbled slightly in the mud.

Jahin was several years older than them, but he always humored Willow. His sister, Maitelarein, was the same age as Rain, and she followed with a laugh as Willow dragged Jahin after her. “Princess, what's wrong?” Jahin asked as he followed her into an empty little hollow where a tree had split apart then grown back together. He was thirteen, but solemn for his age, similar to Willow, with eyes a darker gold than most and longish black hair.

“Don't call me Princess, Jahin,” Willow replied tartly, trying to disguise the pain in her voice. “My name is Willow.”

Both Rain and Larein burst into giggles when Jahin replied intransigently, “Yes, Princess.” Willow huffed at him as she settled against the tree, all four of them sitting down in the little alcove. Rain and Willow exchanged glances, both picking up on the same odd sensation at the same time.

“What's wrong?” Jahin asked again, looking between the two. Larein appeared more subdued now as well.

“I think something's going to happen,” Willow finally said after staring at Rain for a moment, as though in some kind of silent communication. “Something...really bad. I think Mother was wrong. I think the humans have followed us into the forest.”

“Shouldn't you tell your parents?” Larein asked. Neither she or Jahin would question Willow and Rain; they knew from experience if those two girls thought something was going to happen, they were almost certain to be right.

“They wouldn't listen, you know that,” Jahin said, sparing Willow the need to answer.

“Mother might, if we tell her about the trees and rivers speaking,” Rain said hopefully. “Maybe she'll believe us then.”

Willow pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “No, if we tell her about the forest's voices, she'll just think we're crazy or too imaginative, Rain. I really don't think they'd believe us. I mean...why us? Why should I hear the trees, and why do you hear voices coming from the rivers? It doesn't make any sense. Those voices have been quiet to the elves for generations.”

Jahin was staring at his hands. “Like the wind,” he whispered.

“And the fire,” continued Larein. “Look, Rain, Willow...everything has a voice, right? That's what we're taught. Why is it so strange you can hear it?”

Rain stood, her little brow furrowed and more worry than one her age should deal with dulling her eyes. “No one else can hear!” she snapped. “Not even when they try! I'm not sure I want to hear something no one else does, okay? I don't want people to think I'm crazy or a liar!”

The four children sat in silence for a moment, Willow resting her ear against the wood of the tree. Tears welled in her eyes for reasons unknown to the others, and then she stood, trembling a little. “We all need to go to bed. It’s late. Tomorrow...tomorrow will come so soon....” She walked away without saying another word, Rain launching herself after her. Jahin stared sadly and Maitelarein snuggled next to him for warmth.

“It's cold,” she said. “I wish there were fire....”

The next morning, the elves were roused early to continue on their journey towards the Heart Wood, where the First Tree was supposed to stand in the pool Gaea used to give birth to the forest. Here, they hoped to rebuild the ancient Elven city, Sirrala, which had existed in harmony with the trees. They believed the Heart Wood would welcome her children back. The young had little trouble keeping up, and the babies and toddlers were carried in litters or on their mother’s backs. All the elves had several things in common: they were all unusually light, their skins abnormally pale, their eyes a variation of brown or gold, and they were all tall, slight, and incredibly strong. Most possessed a strange, luring beauty about them.

Moon Willow and Rain Pebble walked side by side, looking through the mist with delight. Both loved the forest when it rained—it became cool and lovely and mysterious. Water dripped from the leaves of the many trees in the forest, or gathered like tiny diamonds on the needles of spruce and pine. The two children clasped hands as they ran towards the front of the procession to walk alongside Fenirin, one of the forests Chosen Beasts; he was intelligent, wise, and knew words, even if he couldn't say anything out loud. Marlene rode him. He was a stag, but gigantic in size, larger and lighter of stride than a horse, with grand antlers and soft, gentle eyes. Marlene rode because she had recently discovered she was pregnant with a baby boy—the gender had been divined at a birthing ceremony. Edek walked with one hand on the deer's neck.

Marlene and Edek truly loved each other. Rain and Willow knew this. But Edek was prideful and looked to fighting as an answer in almost any situation, his hot blood driving him and empathetic Marlene into contention. Even Marlene's temper was close to the surface these days. She rode with a beautiful rapier at her side, its blade supple and strong, but not whippy like a human's rapier. These had been carefully tempered of the finest blued steel. Willow looked at it, knowing her mother could fight like a demon with such a light, strong, balanced sword. Rain, however, was distracted by the sound of a river off in the distance, for she could hear faint, murmuring words.

“Act your age, you two,” Edek warned as Willow twirled about in a pirouette in an attempt to dispel the dread she’d been fighting since yesterday.

“We are!” protested Rain, turning her head back from the sound of the river. “Nine and ten-year-olds enjoy playing around!”

“Besides, we were only getting a little exercise. We wanted to walk with Mother,” added Willow, frowning at her father.

“Leave them be, Edek,” their mother said warningly. “They aren’t harming anything. They ought to be allowed careless freedom while they are still young enough to enjoy it.”

“Willow is ten, Rain is nine, and they’re both princesses! They need to be mature examples for everyone else, Marlene.”

Marlene opened her mouth to argue some more, but Willow spoke before her, her voice quiet and a little scared. “We understand more than you know, Father. We realize our people our dying. We realize we must be brave and wise and careful in order to save them. It would be devastating if the humans found us now.”

Her words sounded like they came from someone much older than she. Her father brushed them off, but her mother looked concerned. “Willow, it is not yet time for you to worry about such a burden. You have no need to be so concerned about it.”

“I don’t want to rule, though,” Willow mused to Rain, surprising Marlene with the thoughtful tone of her voice. “Not alone. We can do it together. I wouldn’t be able to do it alone,” she added seriously.

Edek snorted. “I’ve never heard of such a thing! Two queens at once? And what happens when you get married, and your husband takes over for you?”

“They are the true heirs,” Marlene told him sharply. “When they marry, their husband won’t have command over their kingdom! As I have to keep reminding you, Edek. You do not control my people.”

His face darkened, a mask of rage. “May I remind you, as a senior warrior, I have a right to guide my people in this trouble time!” he growled. Willow started backing away as he stopped where he stood, holding the deer’s reins so Marlene could go no farther, either. He was about to say more when Willow rushed forward.

“No! Don’t fight! Please!” Her face was stricken. “The trees say something bad is coming! Diakotu, soma’ai ta e’en!”

In response to the words, a wind started to whistle through the trees, and it sounded as though they were murmuring secrets to each other. Animals from all over their little part of the forest bounded away in alarm, running from whatever might be coming. Fenirin turned his magnificent body around and looked at Willow with liquid brown eyes. Everyone knew why the forest reacted so violently.

“Where did you learn the ancient language?” asked Marlene, staring at her daughter with alarmed eyes.

“Wh-what language?” Willow stammered, looking terrified. She had messed up so badly! The Mother had told her not to let anyone know, but it had just slipped out! “Rain….”

“We’ve known it for a while,” she said in a small voice, and Willow’s heart sank at the words. She wasn’t supposed to tell, either!

“But nobody could have taught you,” protested Marlene, sliding of the stag to kneel in front of them. “No one knows it anymore.”

“The trees,” whispered Willow. “There’s one tree here, older than all the rest, the Old Mother…she taught us….”

“A tree taught you?” Edek laughed. “Nonsense! You just made it up. There’s no proof it was really the ancient language. Now, move on!” he added for the entire procession to hear. Marlene watched Willow and Rain carefully as identical angry and hurt looks appeared on their faces.

“Something bad is coming,” Willow whispered to her mother. “I can feel it. Something bad….”

There was a crashing sound through the trees, and some of the younger elves screamed. Willow fell into a kind of trance as the sounds of shouting grew closer and closer, and Marlene slid off the deer, placing her hands on her shoulders. “And the light will grow dim and fail to shine and the forest will fail to respond to the calls of its protectors, and the last of the resistance will be vanquished.”

“Willow! Snap out of it!” cried Rain, rushing to her sister. As soon as she touched her, she could see it, too. Their voices merged, speaking in perfect unison.

“Destruction shall be everywhere. Soon the light shall fail to shine and the world shall rise to war. The forest shall burn through the abhorrence the humans feel towards magic, and the forest shall fail to support its protectors. But all is not lost; two shall stand alone, even when joined by the other survivors, and shall lead Gaea back to victory. They alone shall bring peace to the troubled world.” The prophecy ended as abruptly as it had started, Rain and Willow falling into silence as a crashing sound filled Marlene’s ears. A tall figure was running through the forest, not bothering to stay quiet.

“It’s humans! An army!” cried the figure, skidding to a stop next to the queen. It was the man who had been on scouting duty—Teverin. There were cries of panic amongst the children, and many of the adults fitted arrows onto bows or drew long, thin rapiers. “There’s too many,” he added to Marlene. She gave a single, sharp nod as Willow and Rain came out of their trance, looking confused.

“Up on Fenirin, you two!” cried Marlene, lifting Willow and then Rain onto its back, snatching the reins from Edek, and handing them to her daughters. “Ride as fast and as far as you can from here! Tell no one what you are! Go!”

“But we can’t leave you—and Jahin, and Mai—”

“Yes, you can!” Marlene cried, slapping the stag’s flank. He galloped off, Rain clinging to Willow’s waist. The procession parted to let them through.

“Princess!” a single voice called. Willow’s head turned to catch one last glimpse of Jahin, running after them, his face terrified, and then the trees closed around them and the sound of a human war-horn filled the still air.

The trees whipped their faces as they heard the distinct sounds of battle behind them, and knew they’d only just gotten away in time. Tears slipped down Willow’s face as she held onto the stag’s neck for dear life. “Kiaste,” she whispered in the stag’s ear. Faster.

He galloped towards the heart of the forest, jumping nimbly over the fallen logs and an occasional stream, his hooves pounding across hard earth. Willow and Rain quickly lost track of time, only able to feel the numb disbelief in their hearts. Willow, especially, felt as though she didn’t care what happened to her anymore. All she could do was cling to Fenirin’s neck and bite back a howl of misery. Finally he stopped at the heart of the woods, where the ancient, twisted weeping willow stood in the middle of a shallow pond.

“Nya’e,” Willow said, bringing the stag to a halt. The two girls slid of his back and stepped through the curtain of leaves the willow trailed in the water, climbing over to her roots and kneeling down in the pool. Their tears splashed into the pond, and it turned suddenly crystal clear. “Old Mother Willow!” cried Moon Willow, rushing to the trunk of the tree with Rain right behind her.

You cry, children?

“Mother sent us away! They-they—”

The battle is over, child. And you are all right. Those who were not killed were taken hostage, but no prison is impenetrable. You have much to be grateful for, and much to mourn.

Willow and Rain began to cry in earnest. How are we supposed to be glad about all this? thought Willow desperately.

Stop crying, children! Now is not the time to wallow in despair! You must do your best to help your people!

The harshness in the Old Mother’s voice convinced them to stifle their sobs. Their shoulders shook and tears still streamed from their eyes, but they were silent other than their deep, ragged breaths.

You must train. You must become experts in the martial arts, and then you must find a way to free the last of your fellows. Then you and those with you must find away to restore the balance between magic and those without magic. It may take years, but you must do it! And, I think, it is finally time to tell you of your past…and your future, for it is wound with the future of the entire earth.