Author's Note: figured I would post the first chapter now instead of late. The text below is supposed to be a pre-chapter illustration. Every chapter I write will have one. Enjoy! Critiques are appreciated but not required ;)

- an excerpt from the travel journal of Lady Laurelie Morelindiel -

In Calamerdon they call themselves the Caelvur. Ladies of the court are Caeldis (singular) and Caelveth (plural). Lords are called Caelvon (singular) and Caelden (plural). Essentially these are the titles "lord" and "lady" respectively with the neutral noun, Caelvur, to mean a "person of high status" or even "overseer". The elves of Calamerdon have a higher status than other races who choose to reside in their country and, in turn, receive the pronouns of honor.

In the common elvish - the universal dialect - the pronouns are divided thusly: females are Eldis (singular) and Elveth (plural). Males are Elvon (singular) and Elden. The universal name for their race is Elf or Elves among humans while the name they use amongst themselves is Elfur and Elvurs. In Drisidiel that same universal name for their race is used by the Fae ruling class. The Fae language is deployed more often than not in dealings with The Gentry while common tongue - the human language of Ryem - replaces the rest.

Rin-Tullen; however, employs a different dialect than Calamerdon despite it's peoples being close cousins. These elves call themselves the Tulelfur. The ladies are Tuleldis (singular) and Tulelveth (plural) while the men are Tulelvon (singular) and Tulelden (plural). This is used to designate the common elf whether they are part of the court or lower class.

Chapter 1

Bellethiel

I remember the eldis' first days in Lochard. She and her cousins had wandered in from Ryem after being chased out of our Lord Glorendil's birth town, Dasidoit. The girl was awkward and mistrustful. She never said a word to anyone until she met that little human girl, Anne Lynn. The child only had to chatter in the general direction of the elf maid for several minutes before she engaged. Even so it pains me to hold the same sentiments as others in the city. For this time, this last time, let it be one of the elfur.

- from the official records of Elder Alfred Hamil of the Lochard city Council

199 years later…

The book in her hand weighed heavily on her mind while she strode down the length of the street. Next to her a taller eldis with long black hair tied tightly back from her face into a tight braid gazed at the street before them expression somber. Bellethiel paid her little mind. They'd spent the duration of the journey discussing the book both just finished reading dissecting its details and pondering its representation of characters and places. Some places referenced existed, though the characters were mere figments of rumor and mythology.

"The Triumph of Uterrion Balagera" by Linderon Raylessel was a particular classic both cousins found they mutually enjoyed. Bellethiel's cousin, Auriel, didn't enjoy reading for the sake of reading as much as Bellethiel did, but there were certain genres and authors both of them enjoyed. On their thirty minute walk from their cottage nestled in the high wooded glade in the hills overlooking the city the two of them spent several minutes analyzing the impact of the mythological figure and whether or not Uterrion was, indeed, someone who once existed.

"Your uncle believed he was real," Auriel remarked causally, "your father's brother."

"I don't believe I've ever met Uncle Ven," Bellethiel replied, " I hadn't realized you had."

"Very briefly and close to the publication of this very novel. He had a few things to say about the characters, but the dates and facts, he said, were correct," Auriel explained.

Bellethiel's uncle, Venderon Fyordion, was a known wanderer on her father's side of the family. Because of this he had a habit of rarely sending word of his current status, marrying humans without binding them to his life force, and showing up several centuries later to commune with the family. Bellethiel had yet to meet him, though she'd heard recently from her father that the uncle in question had visited them.

"Father told me he's currently working with some female elf on the subject of Lord Delmar," Bellethiel remarked.

Auriel snorted, "I doubt he's doing more than gathering intelligence on the subject. Your uncle is not a fighter, but a philosopher."

Then she promptly scoffed at the idea and fell silent. Bellethiel understood what that meant. Conversation over, don't ask further questions. It made her spine tense and her stomach turn with the old rage that came with fifty years of being on the run, kept in the dark, and, finally, told to cease worrying about the dark forces hunting her because she was in a place of protection. So long as they remained in Lord Glorendil's lands the king of Calamerdon could fall, but his protections - as ancient as they were - still held.

Bellethiel, in her youthful wisdom, had decided to test the waters of that protection much to all three of her cousins' consternation.

The gates of the city loomed before them. Men and Elves - as humans called them - from the City Watch stood at the gates with the men on the ground and the elves on the watchtowers resting their unstrung bows on the windows. To the right peeked the roof of the gatehouse behind the beginning of the wall. The humans nodded to Auriel when she approached and then shot identical frowns at Bellethiel as she passed them into the city.

Her chipper mood evaporated as she stepped into the city and was greeted by the same mistrustful, pensive looks of the people. A flock of elveth passed her - each of them a few years beyond their majority - and smirked at her in the way Calamerdon elf maids typically did when they believed themselves better than another. Bellethiel held her head high and plastered the most cheerful smile that she could on her face and waved at them.

"Ylearnel, Lofindis, Ellaarien, it is a pleasure to see you again this fine day," she greeted.

Lofindis ungraciously turned up her nose, but she responded courteously in any case. The other two followed suit each less enthusiastic as the last. Auriel watched from the side prepared to intervene in the instance one of them showed unwarranted hostility.

"I did not realize you would come into the city before the ceremony began," Lofindis remarked and played with her free flowing long brown hair.

"While the ceremony is in a week our larder is, unfortunately, unable to accommodate us in that time. We must restock our resources," Bellethiel replied.

"A wise decision, in that case," Lofindis said dryly.

This conversation is far too disconcerting for my taste. What do they want? She wondered.

"Your beaux will be exuberant at knowing you're in town," Ylearnel said.

Her voice was a glaring contrast to Lofindis'. The latter's voice was low and soothing, carefully constructed to meet a certain social standard equal to her station, while the former's was not so conscientious. Ylearnel's voice seemed to be purposefully nasal and overly condescending. She was tall, slender, and blond. Her body was clad in a simple blue velvet dress and her hair worn loose to the wintry weather's whims. Consequently, she was known to be an insatiable gossip among the elven community and not a particularly intelligent elf.

"I do not know what you mean," Bellethiel said keeping her tone as neutral as she possibly could.

Elaerien smiled and stepped forward to Lofindis' shoulder. Bellethiel raised a brow and noticed Auriel's posture tense. Elaerien was known to inflict cruelty on those she despised. It wasn't a secret she disliked Bellethiel. They constantly spared against each other in the "mixed" university at the center of town. Bellethiel beat her several times in the most humiliating of ways. Finn and Filan made certain to hone her prowess at close quarter combat. As Elaerien was much taller than Bellethiel it was a simple lesson in aerodynamics and gravity. Filan, ever the naturalist when it came to fighting, made it his mission to show his little cousin all the finer weaknesses a taller and larger opponent had to offer. Elaerien never had a chance once Bellethiel's cousins were finished with her and that made her particularly hostile.

"What she means, child, is that human oaf strutting around the village claiming he will marry you," she said snidely.

Bellethiel schooled her facial features into a controlled frown as she replied, "I was unaware that such an arrangement had been made. He must be mistaken. If you will ladies I believe my cousin would like to continue our mission. Good day to you."

She curtsied and walked brusquely passed Auriel to get as far away from the irritating caelveth as she possibly could. Oh, the odious speculation! Bellethiel couldn't escape it even if she wanted to.

People continued to stare at her and whisper amongst themselves. No one, it seemed, could bring themselves to believe she was actually staying. The elf Maidens were notoriously swept away from the city by concerned family members. Some were even sent away at the young age of sixty for their schooling and kept from returning until a year after their majority.

Two months after turning one hundred years old Bellethiel fell into that category. Much to all three of her cousin's consternation she had elected to remain in the village and take part. They fussed about the idea, of course, but after careful study on the subject she discovered an inability to let the matter lie.

Carefully Bellethiel stepped around a particularly nasty patch of ice and watched her elder cousin, Auriel, do the same. Her elder cousin was The youngest of three and, at the age of three hundred, looked every bit of the dark elven beauty everyone said she was. To Bellethiel, she was like a princess out of a story book with long raven hair tied into a simple braid, skin as pale as moonlight, and lips as red as blood. Her eyes were twin pools of icy grey and could fix anyone with a glare to melt the toughest metal. Clothed in her hunting garb Auriel cut a fine slender figure of the working elf. Bellethiel both admired and envied her.

Bellethiel was far shorter than Auriel was, but just as slender though her breasts and hips held a few more curves than most elvur. Her hair was long and brown and her eyes twin pools of amber. Her skin was clear and pink and her walk not quite as graceful as Auriel, but despite this Bellethiel was considered a beauty among the elves of the town. This was primarily due to her more approachable nature. Auriel was just as cold as her grey eyes would suggest to strangers and even colder to people she disliked.

"They haven't ceased their chatter on your attending the Ceremony of Maidens," Auriel remarked while her fingers adjusted their hold on the patch of furs she'd gathered from the last few months of hunting.

Bellethiel smiled. It didn't have as much feeling as her others, but some warmth remained. It didn't seem to reassure her cousin who placed her free hand softly on Bellethiel's shoulder to express whatever form of comfort she could.

"I worry for you, Belle, this is not an intelligent situation to willingly put yourself in," her cousin admonished.

"I'm aware of that, cousin, you have made your position quite clear," Bellethiel replies curtly.

She was certain her cousin muttered a "clearly not enough" remark under her breath, but she chose to ignore it. This was an argument that spanned the length of six months when Bellethiel has announced her intention to remain in Lochard and be the lone representative of her race at the Ceremony of Maidens. Auriel was likely never to forgive her for it no matter how many years passed.

The city of Lochard was a buzz with the latest news on the subject. Lord Glorendil had already arrived in the early morning to speak with the City Council and the Mayor about the upcoming Ceremony of Maidens. The ladies of Lochard who were within six months of their majority would be paraded before the council and the region's lord to have the great honor of being chosen. The one girl chosen would go to the great castle that was Lord Glorendil's abode and be forced to somehow romance the foul tempered prince of the land by order of the king. Everyone who remained in the city would be forced to take part. Consequently those elves in the city became conspicuously absent as the ceremony approached. As far as their records could tell Bellethiel had been the first to remain and would be the first to take part. It was dangerous, but anything to keep her best friend, Anne, from being chosen would more than make up for it.

Anne with her new beaux she won't name. Anne as frail as any human could be. Anne who's angry with me for becoming a contestant, she thought.

Both Anne and Auriel and Finn and Filan were unhappy with the decision. It was generally unknown who Bellethiel's parents were. The Prince would know soon enough once the Ceremony was over and if - when - Bellethiel was chosen.

"Your mother will place a curse on me if she knew,"Auriel muttered.

That sentiment hadn't passed her cousin's lips for the first time; either. In fact, Bellethiel had heard it almost daily.

"You can tell her after the Ceremony. Personally, I would like to see Lord Delmar try to get passed the monster of a prince. I suspect it would rather entertaining," Bellethiel quipped.

She glanced over her shoulder to find Auriel fixing her with an extremely pointed expression. Bellethiel grinned and veered away from her cousin with a wave.

"Mr. Talin's little book shop calls to me! I must answer! Meet me at the jewelry stand and we will continue to Mr. Lynne's dairy!" She chirped as she made her hasty retreat.

"Please try not to do anything rash while I'm gone!" Auriel called exasperated.

Bellethiel only laughed and cheerfully walked down the street with a spring in her step. The high pitched laughter turned into light high notes that floated musical notes of power into the breeze. Little snowflakes danced up from where they drifted over barrels and flower pots and swirled into various shapes of birds and butterflies. This was a mask. It helped her maintain an air of calm despite how the people's unhappiness unsettled her.

"Look at her walk down the street like some bloody heiress," muttered a woman to her friend as she passed.

That friend frowned and replied, "At least she wants to take part in the ceremony. We should be thankful that one of their kind is actually willing to take part this year."

"Hmph! I don't trust her! She'll up and leave before the ceremony, just you wait!"

Bellethiel continued her trek turning the birds and butterflies around her head turned into three dogs that chased their tails and the heads of passers by. Some of the children laughed and the older girls and boys giggled. The adults didn't seem quite as impressed, so Bellethiel willed them to return to her and burst into glittering flakes of snow with the sound of one sharp note.

That woman's friend was someone Bellethiel knew by name only. Martha Culwaite, who was a chosen girl twenty years earlier. Long before Bellethiel and her family ever set foot in Calamerdon. She was not a particularly gracious woman, so her response to her friend stunned Bellethiel ever so slightly.

The tensions among the city's folk were clear and present. Bellethiel had experienced their growing unease in the last two weeks as it became clear she wasn't going to leave like the rest of the elfur with daughters of the age to take part. There were not as many of them as humans, but the council would have chosen an elf whenever they could to give their girls a break. This year Bellethiel would be the one to be chosen. There was little reason to doubt her assumption. The city council members were already discussing it according to her cousin Finn and the present mood of the people placed plenty of pressure on them.

She sighed and adjusted her hold on the book she was set to return to the local library. Said library loomed before her now, built from old grey stone leftover from the gold mine in the Mountains of Morning closest to the western lake shore. Each detail was carved with precision and care by the hands of crafty dwarves who lived near the docks. Twin trees framed a solid door carved from the largest branches of an old red oak tree. Near the roof were various depictions of owls, great and small, from any species she could bring to mind. Two brick steps veered from the granite cobbled road to the threshold and Bellethiel followed it and carefully, with a reverence she would readily admit to if asked, lifted the latch and stepped into the warm hall.

While elfur didn't necessarily feel cold the way humans did Bellethiel noticed the abrupt change in temperature all the same. All thoughts on that subject faded from her mind, as brief as they were, and she took in the sweet aged aroma of old book and began planning what sort of book she would next borrow. Her fingers absently undid the brown strings of her wool cloak. A human matron bustled up to her as the cloak slipped off of her shoulders and into the crook of an elbow.

"Here Miss Belle, I'll take that. Would ya like me to fetch you the master?" She asked in a brusque voice.

Bellethiel turned a grateful smile to her as she handed her the snow soaked garment. The aged face with soft brown eyes and peppered black hair tied into a tight bun returned that smile with a kind look.

"Thank you Mrs. Weatherby," Bellethiel said.

Mrs. Weatherby disappeared into a small parlor adjacent to the main door. Bellethiel followed her and sat into a heavily cushioned chair to the left of the fire. The matron hung her cloak on a hook nearer to the heath, but not too close for the wool to catch fire.

"Now, there's a few small books of poetry on the table for your entertainment. I'll be a few minutes to fetch Mr. Talin. He's been a bit preoccupied today," Mrs. Weatherby said.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weatherby," Bellethiel responded, "you've been very kind."

Mrs. Weatherby smiled, hovered for a moment, before resting a gentle hand on Bellethiel's shoulder, "Well, I want to be sure you know not everyone distrusts your honor, love."

Bellethiel's eyes watered at the sentiment and she looked to the floor while rapidly blinking them away. With a squeeze Mrs. Weatherby left the parlor to find Mr. Talin. A minute passed before she reached for one of the books on the table beside her.

The Lays of Silvien Dulthina by Author Unknown.

Bellethiel opened the thin volume to its third page and began to read where she left off the last time she'd visited the library. Soon her awareness of the world around her dissolved and she lost herself in the rich words of whoever penned such a renowned epic.

The tempest tossed waters beat the brow

Sailors resisted the angry winds

No relief was offered from the violent sky

And Allenin's vessel broke upon the descent

Of the highest wave.

Brave Allenin fought and triumphed against the waves

Though his men lost their way.

Once sunlight pierced the low grey clouds

The Prince of Humans found himself alone.

A day and a half passed.

Chance of land seemed hopeless.

But in the late afternoon of the second day,

Allenin washed upon the western shores of Du'Gratta

The holy land of the elves.

"Lost is she to the pages of a book where none shall reach her evermore."

Bellethiel looked up from the nail biting moment and smiled at Mr. Richard Talin. His hands and robes were stained with blue ink and pale glue. Years of lifting great volumes onto shelves left the man bent at the shoulders, but thin and lean. His human features wrinkled like a ripening prune year by year, but the twinkle in his eyes remained the same.

"You are the one who insists on placing romantic epics best my hand," She chided.

"You refuse to touch romance of any kind unless I make you," he said pointedly.

"Epics have better plots and higher quality prose."

"You think so now, but one day you will change your mind on the subject."

Bellethiel placed the thin book back onto the table and stood. Mr. Talin was barely taller than her and their minds placed them at the same footing as the other. Humans learned in ways that were much quicker than elves at times. She suspected it was due to the substantially shorter lived humans lived. At times she lost herself in fascination of human customs, manners, and thought. They were such strange creatures, yet some had similar mannerisms, interests and knowledge as elves and Fae and dwarves.

"Now, I see you wish to return The Triumph of Uterrion Balagera. Did you and your cousin enjoy it as much as I did?" He asked.

Bellethiel chuckled and picked up the borrowed book from her table and held it out to him, "Auriel had some interesting insights on the historicity of the subject."

Mr. Talin smiled as he accepted the offered item and ran his fingers along the old, worn out cover. A strange, wistful, expression crossed his eyes then and Bellethiel was unsure what to make of it.

"It is a precious tale for those of us who live in Calamerdon. In these times we have hoped for the return of Uterrion Balagera's sense of goodness and honor. We had hoped…" he trailed off and his eyes took on a distant expression.

Then, as if remembering himself, he smiled to her and held up a thin finger. Bellethiel smiled with anticipation. An idea for a book she might enjoy had come to him. He turned and beckoned for her to follow him.

Directly from the atrium was a smaller door that opened into an expansive room inhabited by various servants, librarians, and scholars. Bellethiel felt her fingers itch at the thought of studying with the scholarly individuals, but she kept her countenance. Auriel hadn't thought it best for her to hold herself away into libraries for months on end. Such places weren't well protected and could easily lend to Bellethiel's kidnapping or death.

I will have centuries if The One is kind enough to grant them to me. I will have to wait for the chance, she thought.

Mr. Talin stopped at a small table that held a moderate stack of books on its face. Bellethiel raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. Her lips quirked with a brief smile.

"You've anticipated me," she remarked.

"My Lady, I have learned to anticipate you ever since you arrived at my threshold ten years ago. Now, enough banter! There is a little volume here concerning Uterrion that I think you will find most interesting. Come see," he waved her to the table as he pulled a thick volume from the stack and positioned it on the table.

Bellethiel stepped closer and bent to study the title. "The History of Calamerdon's Kings: a study of account and myth" by Rhaella Balagera. She glanced up at Mr. Talin's knowing smile before taking the volume in hand.

"I may have to take this with me if I am chosen," she said.

Her voice shook more than she had meant it to. Mr. Talin placed a kind hand on her shoulder in response before motioning to the rest of the stack.

"If you would like, you can take another. This particular volume will take some time to read through," he offered.

He didn't add that he thought she would benefit from it's contents. Saying so was unnecessary. She understood. Bellethiel placed the volume back onto the table and sifted through the rest of the books. Mr. Talin had meticulously picked through a goodly amount of romance novels. She frowned at him.

"You know this genre is not my favorite," she said.

"Yes, I do; however you may have a daunting task ahead of you and thought you may like to know how such things work," he explained.

Bellethiel swallowed, throat suddenly dry, as she thought about the pending Festival of Maidens and what was likely to come of it. Romance that beast of a prince? He'd as soon as have her killed if she tried something as ridiculous as that!

"Why do you think I should try?" She asked.

Mr. Talin's expression sobered and he tapped the large history book. Bellethiel glanced at it again, uncomprehending, before returning her attention to him.

"When you read this you will understand," he said.

Bellethiel studied the great volume for a moment before returning her attention to the offending romance novel. "A Night With the King" by Sildain Sarve was engraved in a thin wooden cover and painted over in gold. She frowned and opened the book to the first page.

"Is this about that incident in the eastern kingdom of Peruse?" She asked.

"It's based on it, yes. Belle, I know this book will benefit you and may even encourage you in the times you will soon face," he said, tone grave.

Bellethiel swallowed passed the lump that formed in her throat. She believed he thought so. In fact, he could very well be right in his assumption. Even so, she believed he asked too much of her in that regard. The prince would never love the daughter of the elf who cursed him and she? Bellethiel may have the opinion that she would rather marry him than the blaggard, Lucien, but that didn't mean she could find it in herself to love the wretch! Despite her certainty Bellethiel chose the recommended romance novel anyway.