Part One
Chapter 1
The golden haired figure ran lightly through the dark forest, glancing around her every so often, taking in the deep beauty surrounding the faint path. Her pointed ears picked up a sound from far away, the sound of the gurgling brook. Tinfea smiled softly, entrapped in the peacefulness around her. Suddenly, a root sticking up in the shadowy light of the moon caused her to fall none too gracefully to the ground. Why am I so clumsy? She thought bitterly. Everyone else of her kind was so refined, never stumbling or tripping. Tinfea pushed herself off the ground with a sigh, but forgot her worries when she looked ahead of her.
There was a beautiful silver horse standing in the moonlight. Her long mane flowed over her slim neck, stirring in the gentle breeze. The smile came back to Tinfea's face. The sight of her companion always made all her anxiety fall away. She had raised Mithril, named after the greater than silver metal mined by the dwarves, since she was a foal.
"Mithril," Tinfea called softly. The horse trotted happily over to her, shoving her muzzle into her outstretched hand. Tinfea swung her arm over Mithril's withers, walking with her to the stream. She sat down and looked up at the star-struck sky. Mithril took a delicate sip from the stream and then turned her head towards Tinfea. She smiled gently and shook her head, knowing that Mithril wanted to gallop across the moonlit forest.
"Not tonight, girl. I am weary, and would rather rest underneath the trees. Besides, we spent all last night out." The horse gave a resigned sigh and lay beneath the trees. Tinfea's eyes sparkled as she turned her gaze to the sky.
*This land will lie in peace, no danger to anyone out there. But peace cannot last, and the danger will come again. Only those who can live for hundreds of years may see the new terror that will be brought to this land. And then one, with the special power of nature, will rise up and crush this challenger. But this person cannot over estimate themselves, for friends and allies are important even though only the one can eliminate the source
of the problem.*
Tinfea gasped at this and leaped up, ready to show someone else what the stars said. Then she remembered the star gazers, those elves who spent their whole lives prophesizing what the stars said. Surely they will read the sky and know of what will come to pass. She lay down onto the ground and fell into a dreamless sleep.
The early birds chirping woke her up. Tinfea's eyes opened to see the rare Vegolphon bird flying overhead. This bird was only seen during the passing from night to dawn and was famous for its intricate colorings. The overall bird had a bluish-silver sheen to it with lines of the purest red flowing over the back and wings. It was said that these red lines told a story in the oldest language of them all, the language of the earth. Nobody knew that language, and even if they did the Vegolphon bird never flew near enough to let someone see their backs.
Tinfea didn't dare to breath. A rustling in the forest behind her caused the bird to fly up into the sky, towards the glowing sun. Tinfea turned around and saw Mithril standing up. She sighed, hoping to have gotten a closer look at the bird. Mithril cocked her head at her mistress, wondering what she had done to cause distress. Tinfea smiled and got up. She rubbed Mithril's neck and leaped effortlessly on. Mithril threw her head up into the air and took off into a fluid canter. She bounced calmly over roots and logs, never stumbling or loosing her balance. Why can't I have the grace of my horse? Tinfea thought, remembering all of her clumsy moments. But then she called up how easily she sat on her horse. Her mother had said that on Mithril, nobody could be more graceful. Tinfea smiled and leaned over her horse's neck. Mithril took this as a sign to go faster and eagerly pushed into a gallop. In a few minutes, they made it to the clearing in Mirkwood Forest, where the castle lay.
Vitralth glanced over the castle battlements and saw a figure on a glowing horse. He knew that it must be his best friend, Tinfea. Since the first day he had met the wild, golden haired girl with the bright, green-blue eyes, they had been friends. He didn't consider her a beauty; there was too much wildness about her for that. Besides, she always had a cut or scrape somewhere, due to her interest in fighting. But it was her inner spirit that had drawn him to her, the reason they had become friends in the first place. He and his cousin, Legolas, heir to the throne, taught her archery, horseback riding, swordplay, and much more. She had eagerly grasped the opportunities to learn, and taught them the wonders of the wild in return.
Vitralth remembered their agreement to brush up on sword fighting, since the pursuit of orcs had begun, their lessons had become less and less. But now all of that was over and they could begin once again. The only sad part was that Legolas had left his forest home forever, since his sight of the sea. Now he roamed the lands with Gimli, son of Gloin, and elf- friend.
Chapter 1
The golden haired figure ran lightly through the dark forest, glancing around her every so often, taking in the deep beauty surrounding the faint path. Her pointed ears picked up a sound from far away, the sound of the gurgling brook. Tinfea smiled softly, entrapped in the peacefulness around her. Suddenly, a root sticking up in the shadowy light of the moon caused her to fall none too gracefully to the ground. Why am I so clumsy? She thought bitterly. Everyone else of her kind was so refined, never stumbling or tripping. Tinfea pushed herself off the ground with a sigh, but forgot her worries when she looked ahead of her.
There was a beautiful silver horse standing in the moonlight. Her long mane flowed over her slim neck, stirring in the gentle breeze. The smile came back to Tinfea's face. The sight of her companion always made all her anxiety fall away. She had raised Mithril, named after the greater than silver metal mined by the dwarves, since she was a foal.
"Mithril," Tinfea called softly. The horse trotted happily over to her, shoving her muzzle into her outstretched hand. Tinfea swung her arm over Mithril's withers, walking with her to the stream. She sat down and looked up at the star-struck sky. Mithril took a delicate sip from the stream and then turned her head towards Tinfea. She smiled gently and shook her head, knowing that Mithril wanted to gallop across the moonlit forest.
"Not tonight, girl. I am weary, and would rather rest underneath the trees. Besides, we spent all last night out." The horse gave a resigned sigh and lay beneath the trees. Tinfea's eyes sparkled as she turned her gaze to the sky.
*This land will lie in peace, no danger to anyone out there. But peace cannot last, and the danger will come again. Only those who can live for hundreds of years may see the new terror that will be brought to this land. And then one, with the special power of nature, will rise up and crush this challenger. But this person cannot over estimate themselves, for friends and allies are important even though only the one can eliminate the source
of the problem.*
Tinfea gasped at this and leaped up, ready to show someone else what the stars said. Then she remembered the star gazers, those elves who spent their whole lives prophesizing what the stars said. Surely they will read the sky and know of what will come to pass. She lay down onto the ground and fell into a dreamless sleep.
The early birds chirping woke her up. Tinfea's eyes opened to see the rare Vegolphon bird flying overhead. This bird was only seen during the passing from night to dawn and was famous for its intricate colorings. The overall bird had a bluish-silver sheen to it with lines of the purest red flowing over the back and wings. It was said that these red lines told a story in the oldest language of them all, the language of the earth. Nobody knew that language, and even if they did the Vegolphon bird never flew near enough to let someone see their backs.
Tinfea didn't dare to breath. A rustling in the forest behind her caused the bird to fly up into the sky, towards the glowing sun. Tinfea turned around and saw Mithril standing up. She sighed, hoping to have gotten a closer look at the bird. Mithril cocked her head at her mistress, wondering what she had done to cause distress. Tinfea smiled and got up. She rubbed Mithril's neck and leaped effortlessly on. Mithril threw her head up into the air and took off into a fluid canter. She bounced calmly over roots and logs, never stumbling or loosing her balance. Why can't I have the grace of my horse? Tinfea thought, remembering all of her clumsy moments. But then she called up how easily she sat on her horse. Her mother had said that on Mithril, nobody could be more graceful. Tinfea smiled and leaned over her horse's neck. Mithril took this as a sign to go faster and eagerly pushed into a gallop. In a few minutes, they made it to the clearing in Mirkwood Forest, where the castle lay.
Vitralth glanced over the castle battlements and saw a figure on a glowing horse. He knew that it must be his best friend, Tinfea. Since the first day he had met the wild, golden haired girl with the bright, green-blue eyes, they had been friends. He didn't consider her a beauty; there was too much wildness about her for that. Besides, she always had a cut or scrape somewhere, due to her interest in fighting. But it was her inner spirit that had drawn him to her, the reason they had become friends in the first place. He and his cousin, Legolas, heir to the throne, taught her archery, horseback riding, swordplay, and much more. She had eagerly grasped the opportunities to learn, and taught them the wonders of the wild in return.
Vitralth remembered their agreement to brush up on sword fighting, since the pursuit of orcs had begun, their lessons had become less and less. But now all of that was over and they could begin once again. The only sad part was that Legolas had left his forest home forever, since his sight of the sea. Now he roamed the lands with Gimli, son of Gloin, and elf- friend.