Chapter 1

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The woodlands by the shores of the west river were barren; the great willow that bent by the water's edge was surrounded by a world held between autumn and winter. It was the time of year the elves hated most. There were no leaves, no snow and no food. Cold and hunger were everywhere, sweeping along the river, filling animal holes and huts hidden in the wilderness. The leafless trees of the woodlands stretched their bare limbs to an
overcast sky, like needles on the landscape. Depression had taken over; only a shape in the trees broke the stillness.

A strong, handsome, young elf, soundlessly move through the trees. To his right, the west river flowed, empty of its prior beauty. To his left, the bare trees stretched for miles. His head cocked as he steadied himself on the limb of a large Sycamore and listened, still no sounds. A wind swept through the bare forest, sending a weak branch above him crashing
down, its fall echoing eerily. The elf pulled his tunic tighter, adjusted the quiver that was slung across his back, and swept through the trees, away from the broken hearted Sycamore, to the willow, bent by the water's edge.

The woodlands were a forbidding place, made callous by endless cold. It had remained this way for many years, never quite slipping into winter. The trees were dead; they had given up hope long ago. Most animals that survived had gone into hibernation, every now and then popping up to refill their stocks, if they could. The ancient races were diminishing, some lived in huts, well hidden, some had found caves or tunnels, and some, like this young elf, had hidden their homes with their own skills.

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In a large, warm cave, far south of the woodlands, Dartolia, the Lamonian King, sat proudly on his throne, surrounded by tables laden with food. His soldiers had found a large rebellion camp up north and with it came large amounts of provisions. Warmth from 5 fires filled his chamber will a bouncing light and perfect temperature.

A knock at his door shook the king from a daydream, adjusting his crown he called out in his kingliest voice "Who goes there? Speak your name and your reason for wanting to speak with the ruler of many lands, Dartolia."

"Your Highness, it's I, Captain Olui, I've come to report, as you asked."

"Very well, enter"

As the Lamonian captain entered, his eyes widened greedily at the sight of so much food. Dartolia saw this. "Get your eyes off my food and up at my face, Captain" he spat out.

"Beg your pardon, your highness, it's just, the troops are so hungry, and I eat what the troops eat."

"Hunger builds character" he sneered, his eyes flashed as a hidden force threw the captain back against the wall, then the king relaxed "But I understand your plea, and my troops deserve a reward after such a great find they made with the northern rebellion, How about I double the rations for a bit to boost spirits?"

"That would be great, your highness. It would certainly boost morale and give us new reason to get those rebels, if they knew food was in it."

The captain replied shakily. "Ah yes, now captain, make your report"

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A pretty, young elf, stood by a hearth stove stirring a soup, near her a small elf played with an old cornhusk doll. "All right Wishela, time for bed."

"But mum, I wanna wait up to see Dad!"

"You want to dear, not wanna. And I want many things as well, but Dad will only come home once you're sound asleep, and we wouldn't want Daddy to sleep outside would we?' Carefully she picked up the little elf, who was reminding her over and over that she was too old to fall for that.

Carrying her to the corner of the small kitchen, and descended the ladderinto the sleeping area. She put the little elf to sleep and returned upstairs to her cooking.

A short while later, the young elf from the trees, slipped into the little kitchen. "Melou! You're all right!"

"Yes Tisme, I always am" He winked playfully at her.

"Where's my little elflet, Wishela?"

"Asleep love, so be quiet, did you get the healing potions to the dwarves?"

"Yes dear, and I brought you back some of Karmina's famous dwarf pie, now what about dinner?" He laid his package carefully on the painfully bare cupboard shelf and sat down at the small table.

"It's not much, just a soup I made with some of the old nuts I found by the river this morning"

"No Tisme! I keep telling you it's not safe! You shouldn't leave the house, especially with Wishela!"

"Melou, I'm not glass you know, I got along fine before I met you. I'm not going to get caught!"

"I know, I know Tisme, but I worry still, what would I do all alone?"

Tisme rolled her eyes and ladled her husband some soup.

A a a a bit a a bit a a that's all folks!

Actually, that's a lie, I have around 67 pages of this story for your everyone to love and enjoy, but I'm not putting the next chapter up until I get more reviews!!

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