That night, the rain fell from the sky mercilessly; threatening to
drowned the entire world with water. Aranel could not sleep. She left the
pavilion that was her room, and walked out into the downpour. It was only
a matter of seconds before she was drenched completely. The sound of water
falling on leaves was all even an elf could hear.
Aranel began to sing. And though her words could not be heard, not even by herself, she spoke with all the passion she could muster. It was a story, she told. And there was a fair elven maiden who lived by the sea. And though the water was beautiful, she longed to be elsewhere, somewhere where the trees grew tall and green, the leaves would fall like snowflakes, and the flowers grew in fields as vast as seas. But the maiden could not leave her home. For she was trapped there by a spell that no one could break. So she would sit by the water and cry, cry out for someone to come and bring her back to the forest.
"So come to me, to set me free
And take me back to where you be
Where the fields, they take a hold of me
And the trees, they seem to talk of thee
You live by the wood, but I by the sea
And the spell, that will never end in me."
Aranel finished her song, without really realizing that it was over. The rain still came down as strong as ever, and the lavender dress that she wore was as good as scrap. It would take days to dry, if it was even worth saving. Aranel turned to go back to her room, when she was started by a figure standing a few paces behind her in the rain. She realized that it was Malkemen.
The elven prince walked towards her, until his face was just inches from her own.
"That was a beautiful song," he told her.
"How could you have heard?" Aranel asked, skeptically.
He just smiled, and looked out into the rain. "Couldn't sleep?" Aranel shook her head. "Neither could I." Lightning pierced the sky, and Aranel could not help but jump in surprise. The forest was momentarily a lit, and she was sure she saw something crawling through the woods out of the corner of her eye. There was a glint of light reflected back to her, perhaps from a piece of metal or decoration.
"There's something over there," she said.
Malkemen did not respond. Perhaps he did not hear her. "We'd best get under roof. That dress of yours will never come clean again." He motioned to the hem, which was now coated completely black with mud. "I hope that you rest well tonight, Aranel. Do not let the storm bother you."
And then Malkemen walked away. Within moments he was out of her sight. Aranel was quite afraid of what she saw, now that Malkemen was gone. Something about that flash of light filled her with dread. She hurried back to her room, closed all the doors and windows, though that would not give her much protection. She pulled off the sopping dress, muttering to herself.
"It was probably nothing, Aranel. You are safe within the king's home, you know that." She put on a dry nightdress, and began to brush out her matted hair.
"You shouldn't have been out in the rain, anyway."
Aranel began to sing. And though her words could not be heard, not even by herself, she spoke with all the passion she could muster. It was a story, she told. And there was a fair elven maiden who lived by the sea. And though the water was beautiful, she longed to be elsewhere, somewhere where the trees grew tall and green, the leaves would fall like snowflakes, and the flowers grew in fields as vast as seas. But the maiden could not leave her home. For she was trapped there by a spell that no one could break. So she would sit by the water and cry, cry out for someone to come and bring her back to the forest.
"So come to me, to set me free
And take me back to where you be
Where the fields, they take a hold of me
And the trees, they seem to talk of thee
You live by the wood, but I by the sea
And the spell, that will never end in me."
Aranel finished her song, without really realizing that it was over. The rain still came down as strong as ever, and the lavender dress that she wore was as good as scrap. It would take days to dry, if it was even worth saving. Aranel turned to go back to her room, when she was started by a figure standing a few paces behind her in the rain. She realized that it was Malkemen.
The elven prince walked towards her, until his face was just inches from her own.
"That was a beautiful song," he told her.
"How could you have heard?" Aranel asked, skeptically.
He just smiled, and looked out into the rain. "Couldn't sleep?" Aranel shook her head. "Neither could I." Lightning pierced the sky, and Aranel could not help but jump in surprise. The forest was momentarily a lit, and she was sure she saw something crawling through the woods out of the corner of her eye. There was a glint of light reflected back to her, perhaps from a piece of metal or decoration.
"There's something over there," she said.
Malkemen did not respond. Perhaps he did not hear her. "We'd best get under roof. That dress of yours will never come clean again." He motioned to the hem, which was now coated completely black with mud. "I hope that you rest well tonight, Aranel. Do not let the storm bother you."
And then Malkemen walked away. Within moments he was out of her sight. Aranel was quite afraid of what she saw, now that Malkemen was gone. Something about that flash of light filled her with dread. She hurried back to her room, closed all the doors and windows, though that would not give her much protection. She pulled off the sopping dress, muttering to herself.
"It was probably nothing, Aranel. You are safe within the king's home, you know that." She put on a dry nightdress, and began to brush out her matted hair.
"You shouldn't have been out in the rain, anyway."