Chapter 1

A Chapter by Paul V.

A hundred years before the war for Illeria, the land was at peace. The elves inhabited the forests to the south, mysterious in their ways, while the humans controlled its center, building many illustrious cities. The dwarves inhabited the mountains and cared little for anything beyond their love for rock and precious metals, as they reveled in the dark isolation of their caverns. The L’thorians, a warlike people who seldom left their territory, lived in the Northern lands filled with ice and snow.

One day, a L’thorian tribe leader Ordgrael was hunting in the wild when he came upon a large cave. He ventured in, curious but wary. Continuing down into the cavernous dark, he eventually came upon a large wooden door. He pushed it open, barely managing it even with his strength. Inside the room was a single item.

A large pure black orb lay on the floor, beckoning to Ordgrael. Still wary, he crept forward. When he encountered no danger, Ordgrael reached his hand out and touched the orb. Little did he know that his action would unleash the worst evil to befall Illeria in thousands of years.

The orb, which contained an entity that was purely evil, whispered thoughts of power and corrupted his mind. Ordgrael returned to his village, feeling immensely powerful. The entity told him to gather an army to conquer Illeria. Ordgrael then went on to unite the L’thorian villages to make one strong people

He spoke of power and riches, and he united them all under one leader: himself. Ordgrael then spent the next one hundred years building an army that was unmatched. None saw through his motives. After one hundred years, he made his move.

The L’thorians’ brutality and savagery were unmatched, and they decimated any armies that stood in their way, no matter the cost. City after city fell to him, and his power grew. Soon, only the elves and one human army was left. He launched another attack, but that’s when the dragons stepped in. They were the most powerful beings in Illeria, and they crushed the L’thorians with ease. Ordgrael gathered all of his remaining armies together and prepared for one final fight. Ordgrael launched his attack, but he was foiled because of the dragons. As his armies were destroyed, he escaped, vowing to return again to conquer the land.

The dragons foresaw this and realized they would need to ally themselves with the humans if they wanted to defend their land. They chose certain humans and elves that became the Chosen, defenders of Illeria with immense power. These beings were capable of many things, and held many responsibilities.

Now, hundreds of years later, many of the Chosen have died, and the dragons are few. Ordgrael, kept alive by the power of the orb, knows this and is planning to launch his attack on the unsuspecting Illeria.

An icy wind blew through the air, bending the trees slightly and filling the air with the sound of rustling leaves and creaking branches. Soft grey clouds drifted across the sky, casting deep shadows upon the frost-covered forest below. The wind blew slightly harder, and soon, the sky was covered in a blanket of thick grey clouds, which brought with them soft flakes of bright white snow, blocking the feeble rays of sunlight from above. A solitary figure strode through the woods, seemingly blending in with the landscape.

The figure’s name was Arateer, and he was an elf. He was tall, lean yet muscular, he had pure white hair, and he was an excellent hunter and fighter. He had grown up spending most of his time in the woods, exploring it and learning all of the secrets it had to offer him. Now, he was making his way towards one of his favorite spots.

The thin layer of snow on the ground muffled his footsteps. The trees began to thin and soon he stepped out of the trees and onto the edge of a cliff. Near the edge was a very large tree covered in snow, and about fifty feet from the tree was a large river that cascaded over the edge of the cliff into a valley.

Grabbing onto a thick branch, he began to climb the tree. After a few minutes of quick and difficult climbing, he reached the top, sweating and breathing heavily. Clouds of vapor escaped his mouth every time he breathed. Arateer nestled himself in a makeshift nest he had created between two thick branches. The nest was his favorite spot to be in because it offered him a sweeping view of the valley.

As he lay there, the snow continued to drift down, almost lazily, covering everything in its soft yet cold embrace. He looked up into the sky, letting the fluffy flakes land gently on his face, cooling it. He gazed out into the valley. Snow covered trees spread out until it ended abruptly, transitioning into snowcapped mountains. The snow began to fall more quickly, making Arateer drowsy. He tried to stay awake, but he quickly lost the fight and fell asleep.

Arateer opened his eyes, awakened by a whistling wind. Knowing not how long he slept, he could tell it was still daytime. Thick piles of snow were on his legs and in his lap. Arateer pushed most of the snow off his legs, then stood, brushing the rest off. He stretched, grunting in satisfaction, then carefully made his way to the end of the branch to his left balancing precariously as it became thin. Breathing in deeply, Arateer reveled in the feeling of the cool crisp air on his lungs.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” The voice came out of nowhere, making Arateer jump. He slipped and fell off the branch, plummeting into the thick snow on the ground below. As he pulled himself out of it, he heard laughter. Looking up, he saw his best friend Toreal sitting in the tree, laughing. Arateer quickly grabbed a handful of snow, crushed it into a ball, and threw it as hard as he could. The snowball sailed through the air and slammed into his friend’s face, knocking him out of the tree too, ending his laughter abruptly.

He slammed into the snow, causing Arateer to laugh, but also made him worry slightly, because when Toreal landed, Arateer heard a crack. Toreal’s head popped out of the snowdrift he was in, covered in powdery snow, causing another bout of laughter from Arateer.

“What was that for?” he asked as he pulled himself out of the snow, “You could have broken my bow.” As he said this, Arateer noticed Toreal’s bow was on his back, and his quiver was empty. Toreal noticed this too and sighed. “Now I have to find all of my arrows. Thanks a lot.”

“Oh come off it.” Arateer replied, “I’ll help you look. Besides you’re the one who made me fall first. I was just getting you back.” He went over to the snowdrift and began searching with his friend. After a few minutes, they found all of the arrows. “Oh, hey, I forgot to ask,” Arateer began, “Are you ok?” As he asked, he heard another crack, this time much louder.

“Yeah, of course, I’m ok. Why do you ask?” Toreal looked puzzled. The ground cracked again, and both elves looked at each other. Arateer was about to answer when the ground under them dropped a foot down, knocking both elves down. Cracks spread the through snow like veins, going everywhere. A few feet from where they were, ice broke off from the edge and joined the river and plunged over the waterfall.

“Run!” Arateer yelled, knowing the dangers of the freezing waters and the drop. They barely had time to get up before the ice they were on jerked, throwing Arateer onto the ice, but Toreal was already in the icy water. Right after, the piece of ice Arateer was on flipped throwing him into the freezing water and quick current. Barely having time to breathe, he was forced underwater. He opened his eyes but saw nothing but darkness. He was about to swim up to the surface, but he slammed into something thick and sturdy, knocking all the air from his lungs.

Realizing it was a tree root, he pulled himself off it and used it to kick off and get above the surface. Gasping for air he was immediately thrown over the lip of the cliff and into midair, flying past chunks of ice, screaming at the top of his lungs. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion, making time drag out. He saw his friend splash into the pool way below, realizing just how far below the valley was, how big the trees must be, and how long he had been underwater. Angling his body and stretching out his arms in front of him, Arateer prepared to hit the surface of the water. He closed his mouth, breathed in deep, and slammed into the water, losing all his breath. Arateer struggled to hold on and when he kicked up, he broke the surface, and was immediately pushed back under by the force of the waterfall.

Something from above grazed his side but with enough force to make him spin in circles. Lungs screaming for air, Arateer frantically tried to reach the surface but couldn’t tell which way was up. He pulled with his arms one last time, vision going black, and he felt his head go out of the water, and he gasped, but he caught a wave of water in his mouth, gagging and choking, and he sank back beneath the surface. The urge to breathe was filling his mind, but Arateer used every bit of willpower to resist that urge. His feet hit the bottom, and immediately he bunched up his legs and pushed off as hard as he could, resurfacing.

He gasped again and this time began to breathe normally. His stomach convulsed and he threw up the water he swallowed and then began to breathe, struggling because of the icy water and freezing air painfully stinging against his throat and lungs. Water streamed down his face, and mist from the waterfall was raining down on him and the water around. He heard constant splashes as ice from the river above pounded down into the river.

Thinking about the ice, Arateer looked up and a scream was torn from his throat. He dove beneath the water, kicking furiously, and a second later, a huge chunk of ice splashed into the water, slamming into his legs, making him spin again and pushing him far beneath the surface. Arateer felt no pain, his legs numbed from the cold. He struggled to the surface, reached the surface, and began to make his way through the ice filled river towards the edge. He didn’t see his friend, which worried him, but right now he had to save himself.

He pushed a few small pieces of ice out of his way, and soon he reached the shallows of the river. Exhausted, Arateer pulled himself out of the water and lay there, barely able to feel his own body. Shivers racked his body uncontrollably. After a few minutes, some strength returned to his body, and he got up and began to search for his best friend. As he looked around, he realized that, instead of the waterfall cascading into a river like he thought, it gathered in a round pool, a little less than a hundred feet in diameter, with a small stream flowing out of it at the end across from the waterfall.

“Arateer! Over here!” The voice came from behind him. Arateer turned and saw his best friend across the pond. As soon as they made eye contact, Toreal dove into the water and swam across the little pond, reaching Arateer quickly. He pulled himself out of the water and hurried over to Arateer. “You don’t look so good. Did you know your leg is cut?” Toreal gestured to Arateer’s left leg. Arateer turned his gaze to his leg and saw that, like his friend said, his leg was indeed cut and bleeding, but he felt no pain because of the numbness. “Let’s make camp and get you cleaned up.” Toreal took the lead and they made their way into the woods, and soon found a nice clearing for them to make camp in. They both cleared any brush in the clearing, piled it in the middle; Toreal began to make a fire while Arateer nursed his leg.

Even though there was a constant cloud covering above, they could tell it was nearly dark, as it was getting darker every minute. Arateer began to set up camp, using the tent Toreal had brought. After he set up the tent, he went into the woods and began to gather wood for their fire. When he returned, Toreal had already started the fire and had somehow had the time to hunt too, because two dead rabbits were roasting on sticks over the fire. Arateer placed the wood near the fire and next to Toreal on a log beside the fire. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the crackle of the fire and the hooting of the owls.

The heat from the fire drove away the cold and numbness, bringing with it pain for both elves. Both were bruised by the fall, but Arateer also had the cut from his leg, which was now burning like fire and, now that his leg was warmed, his blood began to course through his veins more quickly, causing his cut to bleed openly. Warm scarlet blood flowed down his leg, soaking his leg and the ground. Noticing this, Toreal rushed over and began to wipe the blood off with some cloth.

“What are you doing?” Arateer asked, surprised, “I don’t need help; I can do this myself.”

Toreal looked up at him, giving him a smile that made him feel foolish. “No, you can’t.” He replied, “Besides, we both know that I’m way better at cleaning and dressing wounds. Stay here and don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Toreal stood up, picked up a small wooden bowl, and went off into the woods; he returned soon with the bowl now filled. He set it in some coals near the edge of the fire and began to wipe away the blood again. “That’s all I can do for now.” he said, putting down the bloodied rag. “Now you just need to eat, then I’ll dress it later.”

He went over to the fire and pulled out the rabbits, handing one to Arateer. Biting into it, he spat it out quickly, dropping the stick. The rabbit fell into the snow, hissing as the heat melted the snow. Arateer grabbed a handful of snow and shoved it in his mouth, soothing his burned mouth and tongue. Glancing over at his friend, he saw that he had done the same thing. They looked at each other, remained silent for a few seconds, and then began laughing.

Arateer picked his rabbit back up and gingerly poked it. Seeing that it wasn’t scalding hot anymore, he took a bite, surprised at how tender the meat was. As he took the bite, he realized how hungry he was and devoured the rabbit, hunger satisfied. Toreal finished his too, then he took the bowl out of the coals and brought it over to Arateer, using the cloth to hold it so he didn’t burn his hands.

“Hold still,” he said, “I’m going to clean your wound and dress it, and you are not going to complain.” Before Arateer could respond, he dipped the cloth in the hot water and started cleaning the cut, making Arateer wince. Toreal smiled. “Don’t be such a baby.” After he cleaned it out, he took out a clean cloth and wrapped it tightly. “See? That wasn’t so hard. Just don’t go doing anything stupid, but, knowing you, you will.”

“You know me so well.” Arateer laughed. He stood and carefully placed his leg on the ground and felt almost no pain. “You did a really good job dressing this,” he said, surprised.

Toreal smiled and acknowledged the compliment. They sat there in silence again, enjoying the warmth of the fire. Toreal looked up, a questioning look in his eyes. “How are we going to get back home?” He asked, breaking the silence.

Arateer looked back at him. “Let’s just go back in the morning. Don’t worry,” he said as he saw a look of concern in friends face. “I’ll be all right and I know a way up the cliffs. I’ll show you tomorrow.”

“Well, that answers both questions I had.” Toreal said.

“I just know you that well,” he replied. Arateer was about to continue when he saw something move beyond the edge of the fire, hearing a rustle in the brush. “Did you hear that?” he asked Toreal, “It came from over there, I think.” He pointed in the general direction of where he thought he saw movement. Before his friend could respond, they heard more movement from behind them and in front.

Without a word, Toreal picked up his bow and slipped on his quiver, drawing an arrow. Both elves got into a fighting stance. A deep growl emanated from the woods, and the bushes at the edge of the clearing rustled. As they rustled, a large black creature emerged, growling deeply, prowling about in a stance that indicated it was about to pounce. Toreal drew his arrow back and aimed at the creature.

A loud bark came from the woods behind them, and a second creature jumped out from the bushes behind them, and it stepped into the firelight. They were wolves, but much larger. The two wolves began to circle the elves and the fire, continuously growling. The bushes rustled again, and a wolf larger than the other two sprang out and joined its two companions. Arateer’s blood turned to ice as he realized they were outnumbered.

The largest one stopped, silent, and the other two stopped. The five creatures around the fire stood, gazing at each other, waiting for one side to make a move. A rumbling noise came from the largest wolf, and it suddenly charged Toreal, who loosed the arrow immediately. It buried itself into the wolf’s shoulder, but it continued and pounced at him. Toreal barely managed to dodge the sharp claws of the wolf, but they caught his bow, ripping it apart.

The other two wolves charged Arateer. The first one jumped at him like the leader, but Arateer was ready for it. He dove forward and rolled, jumping as he came up and turned, facing the back of tone wolf and staring into the face of the other. Instead of waiting for the second one to attack, Arateer charged towards it, sliding under its stomach, jabbing it twice in quick succession with rigid fingers. He glanced over at Toreal, who had his hunting knife out as he dueled the leader and got a few quick slices before dancing out of reach.

Arateer turned to the first wolf and barely managed to dive to the side as its jaw tried to rip his throat out. The wolf slammed into the snow, sliding through the fire, extinguishing their only light source. Hearing the second wolf running towards him, he spun quickly with his foot extended, kicking it straight in the jaw. The solid impact jarred his leg, but he heard a satisfying crack in return. The wolf slammed into the ground, whimpering.

Taking his chance, he dove on top of the wolf, punching and chopping it in the chest and neck continuously. A huge brute force slammed into his back, throwing Arateer off his enemy. As he landed on his back, the air was thrust out of his lungs. The second wolf jumped at him and lunged for his throat, jaws gaping. Arateer threw his arms up, blocking the attack, barely. It snapped its jaws over and over, growling and barking. The sharp teeth snapped together continuously, slowly getting closer to his throat. Spit dripped from its open jaws and its eyes were wide-open, fury showing in the wolf’s intense gaze.

Right as its jaws were about to close on Arateer’s neck, it whimpered, and its body went slack, and it toppled to the side, lifeless. Toreal stood over him, bloody knife in hand, a bite wound on his arm, but a smile on his face. He looked over at the first wolf and saw that it was lying where he’d left it. He took the hand his friend offered him, glad for the help to get up.

Arateer noticed there was no body for the lead wolf. “What happened to the big one?”

Toreal shrugged, wincing as he did. “He was doing the same thing to me as that one-“ he gestured to dead one that had been on top of Arateer, “except, for some reason, it ran away, and I’m glad it did, otherwise we would both be dead.” He wiped the blood off in the snow and then sheathed his weapon. After examining what remained of their campsite, he said, “We need to rebuild the fire.”

Arateer gave him a look. “That’s a good idea.” He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ll build the fire and you clean up the camp. Take the bodies and move them out into the woods. I don’t want more wolves to attack.” Toreal nodded in agreement and set out to complete his task. Arateer began to gather the wood, which was scattered around the snow, knocked over by one of the wolves. After a few minutes of gathering, he had a nice sized pile in the middle of the ashes of the old fire.

Soon, he had a nice little blaze going, and he continued to add sticks until he had a full fire. Arateer pulled the log back into place and sat down, waiting for Toreal to return. He didn’t have to wait long, and when he did return, he joined him on the log, the remains of his bow in his hand.

“I’m sorry about your bow. Maybe you can get a new one when we get back to town,” Arateer told his friend.

Toreal looked up, and surprisingly, he wasn’t sad. “Eh, I don’t really care about this bow.” He said, “It’ old and it was time I got a new one anyway. Maybe it’s time we both got new ones. Isn’t yours really old too?”

Arateer nodded in agreement. “Yes, I’ll talk to my father when we return home. Besides, I could use-“ He was interrupted by a deep yawn, “a new weapon anyway.” He finished, sighing sleepily.

“Why don’t you go to sleep? I’ll stay up and keep watch. Don’t worry,” he said as Arateer tried to interject, “I’m not tired. I have too much on my mind.”

Arateer yawned again. “Thanks.” He got up and went to the tent, slipping inside. He lay down, listening to the crackle of the fire. His eyes began to grow heavy, and soon, he fell asleep.

next chapter

© 2017 Paul V.

Author's Note

Please leave a review if you read this! :) it would be very helpful to get feedback, whether it be positive or negative. Thanks! This is my first chapter and if the reviews are good enough and people want more ill continue posting more chapters! :D

My Review

Would you like to review this Chapter?
Login | Register

Featured Review

Alexander D

Where you wrote "while the humans controlled the middle of Illeria", I would think that using a phrase like "while the humans controlled its' centre" would perhaps fit better.

Where you wrote "The dwarves inhabited the mountains and wanted nothing to do with Illeria, content with isolation in the mountains." I think it doesn't mix well, especially with the repetition of "Mountain". I would think that using a phrase like "The dwarves inhabited the mountains and cared little for anything beyond their love for rock and precious metals, as they reveled in the dark isolation of their caverns." would perhaps fit better.

Where you wrote "The L’thorians lived the Northern lands filled with ice and snow. They were a warlike people, but rarely ever left their lands." I find that having two sentences there is unnecessary, and think that "The L'thorians were a warlike people that lived in the northern lands, a place of ice and snow which they seldom leave." would perhaps fit better.

Besides from personal preferences, I think your plot is good, it's well written and I like your writing style.

I don't want to go into too much detail, but I hope you take this into consideration. Sorry if I offended you or your creativity.