The sun was setting, twilight settling in. It was his favorite time of day, his favorite time to be alone, to think, and to reflect. It was a beautiful thing to him, precious, sacred. Looking out over the hills, he was amazed each time. Leaning against a tree in this, his favorite spot on the edge of the woods, he watched in reverence at the scene unfolding before him.
At the beginning, there was hardly any indication that the day was ending and the sun was going to sleep. There was just a feeling, an inticipation that bordered excitement. Was it only their race that could sense the profound beauty of nature?
He could watch from the forest cliffside, look out across the valley to the hills across the way, and watch the sun sink slowly down between the two peaks. The sky would go from faint blue to deep purple almost too quickly. And once the sun had set...
But he wouldn't think of that now. The sun wasn't quite ready.
A soft breeze caressed the elf's skin, blowing a few locks of his long, purple hair into his eyes. He brushed them away gently with one gloved hand, unwilling to let a single strand obscure his view of the magnificence below.
The sun prepared herself for slumber, and Roland closed his eyes for just a brief flicker of an instant, reveling in the touch of the warm rays on his face for the last time that day. Then he slowly raised his lids, and held his breath in awe as he watched the finale.
Even after it was over, leaving him happy and at peace, he stood on the edge of the cliff, just inside the edge of the woodline. He wasn't quite ready to return home to Elfloria ...not just yet. There was a whole world out there, and Roland often wondered what it was like, just what these mythical humans were...but that was forbidden knowledge his kind wanted no part of.
...But what if he did?
With a sigh, Roland turned back the way he'd come, shaking these thoughts from his mind. He was an elf; he needed nothing more.
Two uniformed soldiers guarded the ropeladder to the elven city. They saluted when Roland passed.
"Good evening, Captain Lesaurus."
"Good evening, Sir!"
Roland nodded kindly to his subordinates. "What news?" he asked, more to make polite chit-chat than of a real need to know. He didn't bear the reputation of the soldiers' most beloved officer for nothing.
"There's something going on at the square, Sir," one of the young elves informed him.
"Oh?" Roland didn't sound surprised. There was always something going on at the square--a festival, a dance, a party of some sort...
"Not the usual, Captain. These are elves from...outside."
Roland's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" He'd heard of these elves--outcast vagabonds who did nothing but roam from human city to human city, performing like circus animals to amuse the more primitive race for its gold. At least, that's what had been said. But Roland had sometimes wondered...
"The King ordered us to be on the lookout, Sir."
"Why? Has there been some disturbance?" Roland hoped there hadn't been a riot already; he was suddenly very curious to see these traveling outsiders.
"We haven't heard anything to that effect," the young soldier informed him. "It's just a precaution as far as we know."
Roland nodded. "Carry on."
"Yes, Sir."
"Goodnight, Sir."
Roland shouldered his bow and climbed up the tree that led to the elven city. His feet moved swiftly and as lightly as feathers. It was quite a climb, but second nature to the elves of the city. He made it to the top and was greeted with open arms by Elfloria.
The city was alive, as much during the night as during the day. While the sun was up, elves bustled here and there, going about daily routines efficiently and merrily, with no worry or care in their private, sheltered world. It was during the day that Captain Roland Lesaurus did his soldier business--running this errand, checking this post--but it was for the night that he lived.
Perhaps that was why sunset was so magical for him; it ended a long day of mundane tasks and then the festivities began. At night, the sounds of chirping birds were replaced by those of crickets and various insects, and of the happily croaking tree frogs. The starlight was so much better than the sunlight--softer, and far more beautiful, especially with the full moon glowing in the darkened sky...the way it did tonight. The mystical beings themselves seemed made for the night--mortal by day, ethereal by night. The elves' skin seemed to glow in the moonlight, their bodies shimmering as though wet, their hair alight as with fireflies. They didn't need to sleep very often, and usually did so only for short periods of time. It was good to nap every few weeks, to refresh oneself. But the moonlight did that twice as well.
Elfloria...a magical city in a place where runes were forbidden.
Music. Roland heard music. Where was it coming from?
He smiled as he listened to the song, an enchanting melody that pulled him like a spell, weaving around him in the air like invisible fingers, beckoning from a seraph's hand. And he followed, willingly.
Roland walked slowly along the streets, enjoying the peace of the night's stillness. It was a bit strange; usually there would be dozens of elves would be wandering about--couples strolling the starlit streets, others enjoying the fresh air...
Where is everyone?'
Soon he came upon the source of the music, and found the rest of the villagers, as well. Everyone was crowded around a small band of musicians, a colorful tent to its rear.
Roland saw a familiar face, and approached the figure standing in the shadows, leaning against a tree. "Good evening, Rubi."
Lieutenant Autumneve turned, then nodded to his superior. Being out of uniform, a salute wasn't required, and, besides--the two were friends.
"What's all the excitement about?" Roland asked.
Rubi jerked his head towards the band. "Her."
Roland craned his neck to see what his friend was gesturing to. What he saw interested him only in that she was a rover--one of the outsiders.
She had sea-green hair, done in long, tight braids all over her head. She played some odd instrument, her slender fingers plucking the made-of-root strings with passion. They were beautiful, all of these strangers, but the female didn't stand out from the others to Roland. To Rubi, and the rest of the onlookers, maybe there was something special to see...but not to Roland.
There were half a dozen costumed elves dancing to the band's entrancing music. The musicians played the most bizarre kinds of instruments the captain had ever laid eyes on. He really couldn't see how those things were able to produce such sultry sounds and enchanting rhythms. There were sticks and twigs and roots, twisted and tied together like guitars; flower stems blown in the mouths of two of the strange elves played like the sweetest of flutes, and the crunching of dried leaves under the feet of the dancers substituted drums. It was all mesmerizing.
"Not bad," Roland nodded admirably.
"She is beautiful, isn't she?"
"...I was talking about the music."
Rubi snorted. Roland didn't mind; his companion was often cynical--nothing new there. But the captain did feel a bit left out. Was there something wrong with him, for not feeling...that way...? About this new "beautiful" lady elf, or anyone else, for that matter?
Suddenly, all music ceased, except for the heavy thump of some mushroom-made bongo drums. Thump! .........Thump! ..........Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thumpthumpthump...!
It picked up the tempo, as the other dancers in the troup parted to bow to the tent. Roland cocked his head, trying to get a better view, breathless as anybody to see what was next.
The drum beat one final time, then everything went silent. Suddenly, a great, fiery flash of light went shooting sparks overhead. Elves screamed and ducked, terrified momentarily by this unknown phenomenon. But then all eyes were on the band again, as they picked up a new, upbeat song for the figure dancing from out of the tent.
Roland was taken aback. The strange fire flowers that had raced across the sky like comets had given everybody a shake--Rubi had gone so far as to drawn his bow--and now...they were going on with the performance.
Rubi spat. "Damned human magic tricks," he muttered a curse, but Roland was no longer listening. "...What are you doing?"
"I just want a better look," the young elf captain said over his shoulder, then continued pressing forward through the crowd.
The dancer was wearing a form-fitting blue outfit of some unknown material (from a human land, no doubt), his striking blue hair complementing the shade exactly. Roland could barely see for all the cheering, dancing people in his way, but he pushed forward by using his height like as his weapon. He could be rather intimidating to anyone who didn't know his kind disposition.
Stallion was distracted by the tall soldier coming forward, almost missing a beat in his dance. That had never happened before. He moved with confidence bordering conceit, knowing that without him there was no way for the show to go on. But this young man was different some how...
Tall, muscled and yet there was something childishly, innocently eager in his gaze. His hair was long, purple, silken. And he was hurrying forward to see Stallion dance.
So for a moment the performer tried to forget the handsome stranger, until they suddenly found themselves in each other's arms...
Roland came almost to a complete stop. The solid wall of people in front of him seemed unshakable. "Um...excuse me," he tried to say, but no one was listening. They were all captivated by the incredible dancer, his feet moving impossibly fast to the pounding rhythm. "May I get through?" Again, no one paid any heed. Perhaps they couldn't hear him over the music? Either way, a soldier wasn't used to being ignored, and Roland was afraid the show would be over before he got a good look. So he gave a rough push and shoved through.
"Hey, Birch! That's Sir Lesaurus trying to get by."
"Yeah--Let the captain through, guys."
The three young elves stepped aside just as Roland flung himself at their backs, and his eyes widened in surprise as he ended up flying across the open stage, landing practically on top of the blue-haired dancer.
Stallion looked down at the gorgeous young soldier in his arms, stunned for a moment by his good looks, even better this close up. He froze, holding onto the startled elf and unable to let go.
Roland looked up, lost for a moment in the depth of the oceans of the dancer's eyes. It was an incredible way to drown.
"What are you doing?!" Nei hissed at her companion. A smile was plastered on her beautiful face, and she was talking through gritted teeth. "Let go of him!"
Stallion helped to right the soldier.
Roland had never been so embarrassed. He hadn't meant to disrupt the very thing he wanted so badly to better see, and now he'd ruined it. "I'm--so sorry," he began, but he was startled into stopping by the arms he suddenly found around his shoulders. The blue elf was trying to dance with him. "Oh--please. Please, no. I--I can't--! I don't know how--"
"You don't have to," came a gentle whisper.
Roland was staggered by the softness of the effeminate voice ringing in his ears, even above the clamorous music and revelry going on around him. Was this really a man at all?
The captain had no choice but to let himself be carried away, swept across the square--but wasn't he doing the sweeping? How did he suddenly know how to dance this way?
Other couples joined in, and soon the entire village was moving to the beat of the melody coming from the band's magical instruments. Roland looked all around as he spun with the delicate elf in his arms, feeling like a true knight for once in his life. He felt as though he had rescued a fair princess, as if the whole city were celebrating his conquest over evil, as though--
"You're a wonderful dancer," the fair elf said slyly, a gleam in his eyes and a smile on his exquisite mouth.
Roland looked down at the beautiful vixen in his arms, his emotions mixed but the tingling sensation pleasant; he liked the slender fingers entwined with his and the hand resting comfortably--almost...familiarly--on his shoulder. "I've never danced before!" he said with astonishment.
The blue eyes looked back at him, widened in surprise and shining with merriment. "Never?!" The tone was light, playful...enchanting.
"How are you doing this?" Roland asked in wonder.
A wink. "It's magic."
"M...magic?"
It was a forbidden word--something no one was supposed to talk about...a reminder of times long passed, when elves hadn't been the gentle creatures they were today. At one time, they had been vicious invaders, tearing the land apart in their quest for domination--and they'd nearly succeeded. The mass of land that had once belonged to the elven race would have made their descendants proud, if only those same ancestors hadn't nearly destroyed themselves in their lust for power. Now the elves were dwindled to near-nothing--a single city, with a few straggling gypsies on the outside. Magic was forbidden to them--runes no exception.
Stallion smiled, refusing to speak any more on the subject. Roland ceased to care, letting whatever power it was consume him, enjoying for a moment the feel of the one in his arms.
Eventually he was led--er, leading--back to the center of the square. "Sorry; show's over," Stallion said, shrugging out of Roland's arms.
"...Wait..."
"It was a pleasure." Stallion gave the soldier one last smile, the rejoined the troup that had gathered back together once more.
"Wait--!" He didn't even know the dancer's name!
The music rose in pitch, almost screeching its intensity, until elves began to cover their ears and wince. Then, a sudden bolt of lightning crashed down right in the center of it all, and when the flash was over and the smoke had cleared, the dancers, musicians and their tent had all vanished.
At the beginning, there was hardly any indication that the day was ending and the sun was going to sleep. There was just a feeling, an inticipation that bordered excitement. Was it only their race that could sense the profound beauty of nature?
He could watch from the forest cliffside, look out across the valley to the hills across the way, and watch the sun sink slowly down between the two peaks. The sky would go from faint blue to deep purple almost too quickly. And once the sun had set...
But he wouldn't think of that now. The sun wasn't quite ready.
A soft breeze caressed the elf's skin, blowing a few locks of his long, purple hair into his eyes. He brushed them away gently with one gloved hand, unwilling to let a single strand obscure his view of the magnificence below.
The sun prepared herself for slumber, and Roland closed his eyes for just a brief flicker of an instant, reveling in the touch of the warm rays on his face for the last time that day. Then he slowly raised his lids, and held his breath in awe as he watched the finale.
Even after it was over, leaving him happy and at peace, he stood on the edge of the cliff, just inside the edge of the woodline. He wasn't quite ready to return home to Elfloria ...not just yet. There was a whole world out there, and Roland often wondered what it was like, just what these mythical humans were...but that was forbidden knowledge his kind wanted no part of.
...But what if he did?
With a sigh, Roland turned back the way he'd come, shaking these thoughts from his mind. He was an elf; he needed nothing more.
Two uniformed soldiers guarded the ropeladder to the elven city. They saluted when Roland passed.
"Good evening, Captain Lesaurus."
"Good evening, Sir!"
Roland nodded kindly to his subordinates. "What news?" he asked, more to make polite chit-chat than of a real need to know. He didn't bear the reputation of the soldiers' most beloved officer for nothing.
"There's something going on at the square, Sir," one of the young elves informed him.
"Oh?" Roland didn't sound surprised. There was always something going on at the square--a festival, a dance, a party of some sort...
"Not the usual, Captain. These are elves from...outside."
Roland's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" He'd heard of these elves--outcast vagabonds who did nothing but roam from human city to human city, performing like circus animals to amuse the more primitive race for its gold. At least, that's what had been said. But Roland had sometimes wondered...
"The King ordered us to be on the lookout, Sir."
"Why? Has there been some disturbance?" Roland hoped there hadn't been a riot already; he was suddenly very curious to see these traveling outsiders.
"We haven't heard anything to that effect," the young soldier informed him. "It's just a precaution as far as we know."
Roland nodded. "Carry on."
"Yes, Sir."
"Goodnight, Sir."
Roland shouldered his bow and climbed up the tree that led to the elven city. His feet moved swiftly and as lightly as feathers. It was quite a climb, but second nature to the elves of the city. He made it to the top and was greeted with open arms by Elfloria.
The city was alive, as much during the night as during the day. While the sun was up, elves bustled here and there, going about daily routines efficiently and merrily, with no worry or care in their private, sheltered world. It was during the day that Captain Roland Lesaurus did his soldier business--running this errand, checking this post--but it was for the night that he lived.
Perhaps that was why sunset was so magical for him; it ended a long day of mundane tasks and then the festivities began. At night, the sounds of chirping birds were replaced by those of crickets and various insects, and of the happily croaking tree frogs. The starlight was so much better than the sunlight--softer, and far more beautiful, especially with the full moon glowing in the darkened sky...the way it did tonight. The mystical beings themselves seemed made for the night--mortal by day, ethereal by night. The elves' skin seemed to glow in the moonlight, their bodies shimmering as though wet, their hair alight as with fireflies. They didn't need to sleep very often, and usually did so only for short periods of time. It was good to nap every few weeks, to refresh oneself. But the moonlight did that twice as well.
Elfloria...a magical city in a place where runes were forbidden.
Music. Roland heard music. Where was it coming from?
He smiled as he listened to the song, an enchanting melody that pulled him like a spell, weaving around him in the air like invisible fingers, beckoning from a seraph's hand. And he followed, willingly.
Roland walked slowly along the streets, enjoying the peace of the night's stillness. It was a bit strange; usually there would be dozens of elves would be wandering about--couples strolling the starlit streets, others enjoying the fresh air...
Where is everyone?'
Soon he came upon the source of the music, and found the rest of the villagers, as well. Everyone was crowded around a small band of musicians, a colorful tent to its rear.
Roland saw a familiar face, and approached the figure standing in the shadows, leaning against a tree. "Good evening, Rubi."
Lieutenant Autumneve turned, then nodded to his superior. Being out of uniform, a salute wasn't required, and, besides--the two were friends.
"What's all the excitement about?" Roland asked.
Rubi jerked his head towards the band. "Her."
Roland craned his neck to see what his friend was gesturing to. What he saw interested him only in that she was a rover--one of the outsiders.
She had sea-green hair, done in long, tight braids all over her head. She played some odd instrument, her slender fingers plucking the made-of-root strings with passion. They were beautiful, all of these strangers, but the female didn't stand out from the others to Roland. To Rubi, and the rest of the onlookers, maybe there was something special to see...but not to Roland.
There were half a dozen costumed elves dancing to the band's entrancing music. The musicians played the most bizarre kinds of instruments the captain had ever laid eyes on. He really couldn't see how those things were able to produce such sultry sounds and enchanting rhythms. There were sticks and twigs and roots, twisted and tied together like guitars; flower stems blown in the mouths of two of the strange elves played like the sweetest of flutes, and the crunching of dried leaves under the feet of the dancers substituted drums. It was all mesmerizing.
"Not bad," Roland nodded admirably.
"She is beautiful, isn't she?"
"...I was talking about the music."
Rubi snorted. Roland didn't mind; his companion was often cynical--nothing new there. But the captain did feel a bit left out. Was there something wrong with him, for not feeling...that way...? About this new "beautiful" lady elf, or anyone else, for that matter?
Suddenly, all music ceased, except for the heavy thump of some mushroom-made bongo drums. Thump! .........Thump! ..........Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thumpthumpthump...!
It picked up the tempo, as the other dancers in the troup parted to bow to the tent. Roland cocked his head, trying to get a better view, breathless as anybody to see what was next.
The drum beat one final time, then everything went silent. Suddenly, a great, fiery flash of light went shooting sparks overhead. Elves screamed and ducked, terrified momentarily by this unknown phenomenon. But then all eyes were on the band again, as they picked up a new, upbeat song for the figure dancing from out of the tent.
Roland was taken aback. The strange fire flowers that had raced across the sky like comets had given everybody a shake--Rubi had gone so far as to drawn his bow--and now...they were going on with the performance.
Rubi spat. "Damned human magic tricks," he muttered a curse, but Roland was no longer listening. "...What are you doing?"
"I just want a better look," the young elf captain said over his shoulder, then continued pressing forward through the crowd.
The dancer was wearing a form-fitting blue outfit of some unknown material (from a human land, no doubt), his striking blue hair complementing the shade exactly. Roland could barely see for all the cheering, dancing people in his way, but he pushed forward by using his height like as his weapon. He could be rather intimidating to anyone who didn't know his kind disposition.
Stallion was distracted by the tall soldier coming forward, almost missing a beat in his dance. That had never happened before. He moved with confidence bordering conceit, knowing that without him there was no way for the show to go on. But this young man was different some how...
Tall, muscled and yet there was something childishly, innocently eager in his gaze. His hair was long, purple, silken. And he was hurrying forward to see Stallion dance.
So for a moment the performer tried to forget the handsome stranger, until they suddenly found themselves in each other's arms...
Roland came almost to a complete stop. The solid wall of people in front of him seemed unshakable. "Um...excuse me," he tried to say, but no one was listening. They were all captivated by the incredible dancer, his feet moving impossibly fast to the pounding rhythm. "May I get through?" Again, no one paid any heed. Perhaps they couldn't hear him over the music? Either way, a soldier wasn't used to being ignored, and Roland was afraid the show would be over before he got a good look. So he gave a rough push and shoved through.
"Hey, Birch! That's Sir Lesaurus trying to get by."
"Yeah--Let the captain through, guys."
The three young elves stepped aside just as Roland flung himself at their backs, and his eyes widened in surprise as he ended up flying across the open stage, landing practically on top of the blue-haired dancer.
Stallion looked down at the gorgeous young soldier in his arms, stunned for a moment by his good looks, even better this close up. He froze, holding onto the startled elf and unable to let go.
Roland looked up, lost for a moment in the depth of the oceans of the dancer's eyes. It was an incredible way to drown.
"What are you doing?!" Nei hissed at her companion. A smile was plastered on her beautiful face, and she was talking through gritted teeth. "Let go of him!"
Stallion helped to right the soldier.
Roland had never been so embarrassed. He hadn't meant to disrupt the very thing he wanted so badly to better see, and now he'd ruined it. "I'm--so sorry," he began, but he was startled into stopping by the arms he suddenly found around his shoulders. The blue elf was trying to dance with him. "Oh--please. Please, no. I--I can't--! I don't know how--"
"You don't have to," came a gentle whisper.
Roland was staggered by the softness of the effeminate voice ringing in his ears, even above the clamorous music and revelry going on around him. Was this really a man at all?
The captain had no choice but to let himself be carried away, swept across the square--but wasn't he doing the sweeping? How did he suddenly know how to dance this way?
Other couples joined in, and soon the entire village was moving to the beat of the melody coming from the band's magical instruments. Roland looked all around as he spun with the delicate elf in his arms, feeling like a true knight for once in his life. He felt as though he had rescued a fair princess, as if the whole city were celebrating his conquest over evil, as though--
"You're a wonderful dancer," the fair elf said slyly, a gleam in his eyes and a smile on his exquisite mouth.
Roland looked down at the beautiful vixen in his arms, his emotions mixed but the tingling sensation pleasant; he liked the slender fingers entwined with his and the hand resting comfortably--almost...familiarly--on his shoulder. "I've never danced before!" he said with astonishment.
The blue eyes looked back at him, widened in surprise and shining with merriment. "Never?!" The tone was light, playful...enchanting.
"How are you doing this?" Roland asked in wonder.
A wink. "It's magic."
"M...magic?"
It was a forbidden word--something no one was supposed to talk about...a reminder of times long passed, when elves hadn't been the gentle creatures they were today. At one time, they had been vicious invaders, tearing the land apart in their quest for domination--and they'd nearly succeeded. The mass of land that had once belonged to the elven race would have made their descendants proud, if only those same ancestors hadn't nearly destroyed themselves in their lust for power. Now the elves were dwindled to near-nothing--a single city, with a few straggling gypsies on the outside. Magic was forbidden to them--runes no exception.
Stallion smiled, refusing to speak any more on the subject. Roland ceased to care, letting whatever power it was consume him, enjoying for a moment the feel of the one in his arms.
Eventually he was led--er, leading--back to the center of the square. "Sorry; show's over," Stallion said, shrugging out of Roland's arms.
"...Wait..."
"It was a pleasure." Stallion gave the soldier one last smile, the rejoined the troup that had gathered back together once more.
"Wait--!" He didn't even know the dancer's name!
The music rose in pitch, almost screeching its intensity, until elves began to cover their ears and wince. Then, a sudden bolt of lightning crashed down right in the center of it all, and when the flash was over and the smoke had cleared, the dancers, musicians and their tent had all vanished.