"Untitled"

Should such a condition come about where taking up arms becomes necessary, may the battle be quick. Also, should this happen, may the enemy surrender in the interest of saving the lives of those that need not unnecessarily become victims. This was said at the beginning of the human war with elves by a very well meaning, albeit misguided, war wizard. That was over a hundred years ago and those words have been whispered in supplication, a prayer for the dying and a war cry for those who have yet to see their death coming. A hundred years and an end seemed a laughable dream by the war weary. 1

Ilerea, daughter of Queen Anaria and her consort Liti, had had this lesson drilled into her head since she could understand the words of her teachers. It was precisely because of the war, with the humans nearly at the edge of the Old Wood, that it was forbidden for any to venture away from the inner sanctum where their power was strongest. Ilerea, however, had never been a particularly obedient child, which was why she was on the outer edge of the sanctum. She was doing nothing other than finding any excuse to get away from the rules that had governed her life. It was only a short reprieve, but very much needed. She had dressed herself in the only forest garb she had, a present from one of her maids that was rarely worn because she spent most of her days in court, bowing to dignitaries and looking at prospects to become her consort. All very boring and politically necessary if she was to take over from her mother when she decided to step down from the Diamond Throne, which was still many centuries away. She wore a simple green tunic, belted at the waist over a pair of brown pants and doe skin boots. She would never kill a deer for boots, but the deer was already dead and the waste could not be tolerated in a time when all was needed. She had had one of the makers create the boots for her, boots that would never get old and would protect her feet from hidden danger such as sharp rocks.2

The woods were a paradise of glittering light, dancing upon the floor as the trees swayed with the slightest breeze. In the inner sanctum, light barely touched the forest floor because the trees were so dense and tightly packed together, persuaded to grow that way by elfin song magic. The growth of the trees was how Ilerea could tell she was skating a dangerous edge. She, however, could not bring herself to care when the sun was so warm on her bare arms and the pants, tightly belted around her slim waist, allowed her the freedom of movement that her restricting dresses never would. She reached up to tuck a strand of chestnut hair behind her ears, sighing at the rounded shape, wishing she was old enough to have the elegant points that her elders had. The points that, quite distinctly, separated them from their children. Without the points, she was still a child and, therefore, a useless accessory to be paraded in front of dignitaries for as long as it pleased them. She usually left her hair down to cover up this deformity of youth, but had decided against that, using a leather thong to tie it back, away from her face. She had the tall elegance of her race, with the budding curves of someone coming into their figure, though it was still slightly awkward and she had much more to her than she was used to, making her walk with a careful gate that was customary of the frail or sickly. 3

Sighing again, she folded her limbs under her and sat by a merrily trickling stream full of reflecting light and silver fishes, talking in their language, barely heard over the sound of the water. She had not been to that stream in months, since the woods had been closed to all but the outliers, those scouts that had been left to try and warn them should the humans breech their carefully erected barriers. She sighed as she took out the berry bread that she had prepared the night before, a sweet bread that was more filling than it should have been.4

As she was taking her first bite, she heard a slight stirring of leaves, a rustle that could not have come from the absent breeze. Standing and turning, she saw a boy, about her age, with too short hair and an expression of doing something that he was not supposed to, with his shifting eyes and stealthy movements.5

“You there, boy, what are you doing here?” Ilerea called, her voice carrying over the short distance between them, startling him enough to look at her. His eyes were a light blue, quite uncommon for anyone in her race, though not unheard of. He straightened slightly, his expression becoming hard, though there was a bit of fear behind it, fear that she shared because she could not afford for her mother to know she had been out this way.6

“Who are you?” Ilerea asked, as the boy moved closer to stand directly across from her, his own forest garb a bit shabby compared with hers. That, however, was most likely due to overuse, whereas she had only been allowed to wear hers when she could get away from court, which was very rare. 7

“Evan, who are you?”8

“Ilerea,” she answered to which he burst out laughing, his face transforming form one of suspicion to one of undeniable mirth. She smiled to hear the sound, “What is funny?” she asked, not understanding his sudden change of attitude.9

“What kind of name is Ilerea?” he asked, trying to hiccup himself to silence, though a few chuckles did escape, making him double over and try to catch his breath.10

Ilerea, her face still, finally knew what he was laughing at, and she didn't like it one bit, “What kind of name is Evan?” she snapped back, finally silencing him.11

“Anyway, if you will excuse me, I'm going to do what I originally came in here to do before I was so rudely interrupted,” he said harshly, his face red from embarrassment as he held the stick that she had just noticed in front of him. He looked deeply uncomfortable as he did, what she could only assume, were sword exercises. She didn't know for sure because he was doing them entirely wrong, his swings wild and his footing off. If he would have been taught by one of her tutors, they would have died from anger at the way he was managing to mess up even the simplest thrusts.12

“Your doing that wrong,” she blurted out after watching him for a minute fumble with a quick thrust.13

“What do you know?” he asked angrily, putting his stick awkwardly at his side as he came to an unsteady halt.14

“Look, this is how you do it,” she said impatiently, taking the stick from him and going through a series of movements one at a time, slowly and deliberately so that he could pick them up with ease. She held it out to him for him to try, only to have it snatched from her hands by an angry Evan, who's face was beat red.15

“Why should I take advice from a stupid girl,” he said, refusing to do it the way she had shown him, going back to his clumsy movements that would likely get him killed if he ever thought of going into battle with them the way they were.16

“Fine,” she said, going back to her spot by the stream and ignoring him, not even laughing when he fell by thrusting too far in front of him. She continued eating her bread, looking out at the stream until she couldn't hear his clumsy sword work. She quickly glanced at him to realize that he was finally doing it the right way, though he was still a bit clumsy and awkward. 17

He paused and smiled sheepishly, his “sword” hanging limply beside him as he made his way over to her, taking a seat beside her. She said nothing, but handed him a portion of her bread, which he ate hungrily, also taking a huge swallow of her water, which she had gotten from the stream. They sat in silence for a while, neither talking nor needing to.18

“Why are you here?” Ilerea asked, after awhile, still looking out over the water.19

“My father wouldn't teach me to be a warrior, saying I was too young, so I decided to try to teach myself. What better place that this part of the forest where everyone was forbidden?” he said, looking with defiance at the side of Ilerea's face, making her turn and smile slightly, understanding completely. 20

“I'm just trying to get away from the rules, so many rules they make me want to scream,” she said as though admitting something shameful. An elf who wanted to scream was an embarrassment to herself and her house. Evan, however, nodded vigorously, as though understanding the need to get away from a place with too many rules.21

“This war has gone on for far too long. It needs to end,” Evan said, to which it was Ilerea's turn to nod vigorously. They talked for a while about why they hated the war, their young passionate voices becoming loud with each point they made, laughing together when they spoke in unison. After a while, Ilerea taught Evan a few more sword strokes, which he picked up rather quickly, still clumsy and not as smooth as most elves would be. She began to think maybe he had some illness that was making him clumsy and weak, though she didn't ask, knowing that such a thing would be private for any elf. 22

“Evan?! Evan?!” they heard a masculine voice call in panicked anger, rising with each use of Evan's name.23

“Ilerea, where are you child?” a woman's voice said, not rising in anger but it still made Ilerea's heart flutter in dread. They looked at each other in regret as they stood to face their parents.24

Evan's father was far more muscular and big than any elf Ilerea had ever seen, his face a hard mask as he looked at his son. Ilerea's mother was still wearing her court dress, a sky blue affair that was draped over her frame in languid folds, barely hinting at the figure that was beneath it. She was as beautifully poised as always, though there was a general lack of expression that was as dangerous to Ilerea as Evan's father's obvious anger was to him.25

“What are you doing out here, Ilerea? You know you are forbidden.”26

“Evan, what in the name of the gods made you come into these woods, you know there's elves here.”27

Queen Anaria, looked for the first time at the two people that were with her daughter in the clearing, her face finally showing an emotion, shock. “You!” she shouted, grabbing her daughter and thrusting her behind her back in an effort to protect her from what were obviously, humans.28

“Well, well, well,” Evan's father said viciously, looking at her with a vicious hatred that her face mirrored, “If it isn't Queen Anaria and her brat.”29

“How dare you address me, human,” Anaria spat, standing as stiff as her spine would allow and looking at the humans with contempt. 30

Ilerea and Evan looked at each other in shock, finally realizing what they had not before. They were enemies and, as such, could not be friends.31

“Come Ilerea, you have caused me enough trouble,” Anaria said, turning back to the interior of the forest, expecting her daughter to follow. 32

“Evan, you had best be getting back, you are already in a load of trouble,” Evan's father said, turning to head out of the woods. 33

Their children followed them, going their separate ways. They, however, looked back, the hatred that was a century old transforming their faces from the soft lines of youth.