She was like any other child at birth, loud, soft and drooling. She looked similar to any other, made the same unintelligible sounds like any other. But I knew from the moment I saw her, that she was different. She had our mothers golden hair and deep brown eyes, but she also had the enchanted and distinct ears of a woodland elf. My mother and I were ordinary folk, descendants of the same regular, ordinary folk, but every person of mankind descendence had that same longing and desire to be one of 'the woodland folk'. These folk were elves- beautiful, wise and immortal, but almost a myth to the men of our time. But mother knew they were not mythical, for once, lost, alone and half dead she had stumbled through woods dark and dangerous and fallen into sleep on the dank dirty ground by the base of an ancient willow. There, beneath the suffocating blanket of darkness, she was found and saved by a kin more fair and kindly than any that was known to her. In that kin, she found my father, a renowned warrior with a pure heart and they fell in love. For a while they lived in the forest, but eventually they returned, before I was born, to the small village where my mother was raised, and where I was to be raised too.
My mother told no-one in the village the whole truth- to anyone apart from me, my parents and the elves, my father was an ordinary man. I suppose I inherited some of his elvish manner, I was light on my feet and good with a bow, even my ears were somewhat pointed, but looking at the little girl lying in my arms, I could see that she was as elvish as any descendant of man could be. She was born on the first day of spring and mother and I took her down to the lake in the early hours of the morning. The sun was just rising up from the distant horizon, and the whole pool of water glimmered like gold. That morning, for the first time all year, the white water lilies opened and spread their petals, gleaming with dew and sunlight. And so, we called the young girl Lily.
We had hoped father could be there, but we all knew he wasn't coming back. The war had most likely claimed his life as it had most to of the men in the village. Mother was hopeless, she had been crying for months since he left, I think today is the first time she has smiled in ages. Even I, though, had almost lost all faith, elves may be immortal, but that does not mean that they cannot die. I wonder if mother will tell young Lily of father, of her elven ancestors. She most definitely would eventually wonder the origin of her defined ears. So many things I wonder for her sake, will she be immortal, hold any powers? For now though, everything was good and bright and peaceful.
'Mother,' my voice broke the empty silence, 'Shall we ever take Lily to see the elves?'
Mother and father had taken me when I was very young, and the lord and lady of the wood blessed me with long life, strength, courage and happiness. Their faces stayed in my mind, I can still see them now, and their voices, cool and sweet still ring through the air around me. Not only did I want Lily to meet them too, but I longed to see them again, and to ask if they knew what had become of Father.
'Someday.' Came her reply. 'But not yet. Lily is a special child, only when she is older shall we risk the forest.'
'But I was young when you brought me before the Lord and Lady.'
'Back then we had your father to protect you. Not every woodland elf knows me, I won't take any chances. Your father is one of their kin, and so they would not dare to hurt him, but I am not.'
We sat in silence for a while after that, and then gathered as many lilies from the water's edge as we could to decorate Lily's cradle. It was still early morning when we left, and the sun kissed our bare cheeks goodbye warmly. I barely noticed the crowds outside the Village Hall; I was staring to intently at the bright face of Lily, until we were within five meters of the hall. And the sight which awaited us was not pleasant.
They had put up a list. On a tea-stained scroll of paper, was a list. A handwritten list of names. There were hundreds, so many I could hardly count them. Many people in the village could not read, and so there was a tall man standing on a crate reading the names aloud. That was where the crowd was gathered, around the crate, listening intently, and as each name was announced, a few people left in aching silence or burst into tears.
'What is it, mother? What are all these names for?'
She would not say. In fact, she did not respond. She just stared into the distance, unblinking, motionless. I turned to the list, and although I could hardly read, I managed to make out the title: The Fallen.
I knew what it meant. I knew all too well. War was over, it was won. But more than that was over, and far more was lost. These names- they were people, people who could never come back. Who could never see another day. These were the fallen.
"Mother!" she had burst into tears, her face crumpled and red, and her mouth open in shock. She was staring at a name, right at the bottom of the list.
NO.
It couldn't be.
It wasn't possible.
Phalandrir Orchad-Ash.
Father.
Fallen.
How could such a beautiful day suddenly grow so dark? A hot sun suddenly feel like an icy breeze? Joy suddenly seems so empty? He was gone. He would never see the Woods again. He would never see the lake, or mother, or me again. He would never see Lily.
At first I couldn't cry.
I couldn't breathe
I couldn't think, or speak or move.
Then it all came rushing over me. Grief swallowed me, and tears choked my throat. I felt like my eyes were waterfalls, the tears didn't stop. Sobs burst through my mouth and salty tears splashed on my tongue. I felt mothers arms wrap around my shivering body, she was warm and wet and I could hear her heart pumping so loudly and quickly I thought it would burst. In one arm she held Lily, and the baby's soft body pressed against my face. Lily's eyes were shut and her heartbeat was slow. Her touch almost immediately freed my throat of choking sobs and I drew in a deep breath. Her eyes opened and her warm brown eyes looked at me so intently that I felt naked, like she could see my soul. Just having her there, looking at me like that, calmed me, comforted me, and I felt warmth enter my body again. Mother's heartbeat was slowing. This child was magic. Precious. And all that remained of my father.
