Proloogue

The land was divided only by the people who lived in each section. Deep in the east, past the Endor Mountains, there lay the cold barren lands of the silk haired elves, the Llildors. Past them, resided the bright forests of the wood elves, and the Forthin Mountains, home to the silver dragons, and the gorns that lived with them.1

To the west were the mines of the greedy gnomes and their cousins the trolls, who hunted by night and sang by their fires as they picked clean the bones of their meals. Beyond them were more mountains, the mighty Gringors that spat fire and steam onto the empty villages beneath their rocky slopes and barren roads. It was said that phoenixes were born on every full moon in which the mountains erupted and flew round the black skies, but Elldor was full of tales and most were only told to amuse children that inquired too much about empty villages. 2

In the middle of all of the lands and villages, were only thick pieces of long green plains that stretched as far as the blue skies above. Wars were usually fought on these pieces of green, so the grass grew stained the color of blood, and though the land was beautiful, it was eerie to look down and watch the waving stalks of green and dark red, dancing under the sun. To the north, the villages were those of the eerie folk, as eerie as the land they lived on. Tales danced round them as they danced round their massive bright fires, singing their strange songs in their crude dialect; stories of magical women that fought against men and birthed only to girls, who lived on mare’s milk. Tales of unicorns, goblins, and griffins, as mysterious and odd as the phoenixes born from the Gringors. People that turned into wolves with the moon, like the Lilde flower that bloomed and sparkled when the moon called. Nymphs that giggled to the music of their bamboo flues, and sirens that called prettily to wandering sailors. 3

And to the south, lived the humans. Men that lived by the stolen treasures of the angry green dragons and slept in the warm jeweled caves of their scaled owners. Men who built massive castles of pearled stone and rode angry black horses and fought bloody wars. They claimed the whole south and even the dragons and trolls with them, so the only remains of the magic living in those regions were just piles of shiny bones.4

My tribe was a humble clan in the midst of the Llildors, everyone with the same silky white hair and pointed ears, and small black eyes, and caramel skin.5

Except for me.6