The Elf Chronicles

Chapter 1

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley, Xandro thought to himself, standing on the southern cliff overlooking the Elfinheim Valley.

Elfinheim Valley was a peaceful land, shared only by the elfin kind, before the great Merging of the Realms. The forest’s magic where Elf could run in the trees, live and die with the land, and grow with the forest spirits. But since the Great Merge, the realms and their races have become drawn together. And now the Dragon realm has broken through.

“This has to stop,” Xandro said without moving his gaze from the trail of burnt forest.

“You have said that before, young Master.” Maven said, moving closer. His magic staff glowed softly into the morning sun. “The King has ordered all races be welcomed into Elfinheim.”

“We know what that order has caused, don’t we, Maven?”

First, the dwarves broke through the veil and uncourteously marched into the mountains surrounding the Valley. They began to dig out their homes from under the mountain range and scavenge the earth of precious stones.

“First, the Dwarves come and start to dig up the bones of the old gods,” Xandro said, showing his frustration. “They should have never been welcome in the first place.

“Then the humans came and began destroying the forests with their machines. Could they not see that the trees were thousands of years old and contain the spirits of the ancient ones?”

“Yes, and as a son to the king, you should be his first supporter of the formal decree.” Maven replied without showing any emotion.

Dragons were only the latest creatures to enter Elfinheim. Only one dragon came through the veil as far as Xandro knew, but the scouts have yet to come back from where the nest is believed to lay.

“Not only do we have scavengers ripping the bones of the gods out of the mountains, insects destroying our heritage with their dwellings, but now we are to welcome the dragon that has burnt down the trees in the Valley to find food?” Xandro asked. “Our land will not survive if we continue to welcome this type of destruction.”

“The pact of peace was made….”

“Made with the Dwarves and Humans, Maven, I am well aware,” Xandro said, cutting him off. “But no pact was made with the Dragons.”

“No, you are correct, young Master.” Maven said condescendingly. “Not yet. But do you know the Magical force that that beast has within it? If I could combine my force with its….”

“You want to combine your magic? For what purpose could that serve? The last magician to use any magic beyond their grasp caused the Merge to happen.”

“And I could return the races to their realms and seal the veil.” Maven said.

“Or make it worse,” Xandro said, turning towards the magician. “It is impossible for any magician to hold that much magic.”

“Yes, you are right again, young master.” Maven said, bowing his head. “How absurd of me to mention it.”

“No, the time has come for the Elf kind to reclaim what has been ours for generations. And we will start with the Dragons.”

“If I may point one last thing out, your majesty. The Dragons are a magical race that has existed since the dawn of time. You have Dragon blood running through your veins.” Maven pointed out. “Would you not be destroying the exact thing you hope to preserve?”

Xandro only looked at him. The prince was young for an Elf but more robust and faster than the King’s guards combined. Endless days of training his body in perfect physical form. His mind was keen, and his teachers told him he showed great promise with his magical calling.

Looking to leave the cliff and the conversation, Xandro started walking but stopped next to Maven and turned his head.

“Whether the scouts return or not, we start the hunt for the Dragon tomorrow.” He said and walked away into the forest.

Maven stood looking out into the morning sky. He was not ready with his plans to hunt a Dragon yet. The King still had to die. Combining the ancient bloodline with the blood of the Dragon would allow him to absorb enough magic to open the veil more and bring on the shift of the prophecy.

“If the hunt begins tomorrow, the King must die today.” Maven whispered under the wind.