Chapter I
Shira Havon smiled as he pushed his son, Lash, into the pond playfully. The Elf watched Lash swim to shire and pull him in. Shira hid underwater. But the seventeen-year-old Half-elf, Lash, didn't mind, because he had crawled onto the edge. So Shira broke the surface with a gust of water, jumping out. He grinned, and splashed water in Lash's face. Lash sat stiff for a while, a surprised look on his face, and then playfully poked his father back in the pond with his staff.
Lash resumed his former activity (before Shira had pushed him in) by carving his staff. Shira crawled out of the pond, soaked, and stood up. Shira's green eyes scanned the distance before sitting down. Their sun- blond hair ruffled gently in a breeze as Shira questioned, "You like your studies, don't you?"
"Of course I do. I enjoy the arcane strength of magic," Lash replied, still carving his staff.
Magic. How do you describe it? A special force? A natural tool or machine? A living creature or not? One thing for sure, it is currently rare in the continent of Koria.
Back when the world was young during the Infant Age, Elves were the first to be born. By what force created them, no one quite knew. Yet they were born, to a new world, with powerful magic. Then Men, Halfling, and Dwarf were born, each wielding their own magic. Magic was ranked back then, in levels of one to thirteen, thirteen being the strongest, such as instant death.
Then a dark force came from the depths of pits, called the Devil Lord. He created Devils, and Orcs as well. He took over the lands, destroying and killing. The Dark Age had begun. He enslaved everyone, destroying most magical records. Yet a resistance force found a runaway slave, Shira Havon, who found the Havon Sword. He destroyed the Devil Lord, and the darkness shrunk into a peninsula, called the Land of Darkness.
Unfortunately, few magic scrolls remained. Nowadays, the highest anyone could get was level three. Eventually, all of it made its or their way to the Tower of the Magi, built during the Infant Age. The Elves had built their resistance capital there. The once powerful magic is now practiced.
"I'm going to rebuild the rest of the levels," Lash promised, his head in the clouds like everyone else at some age.
Shira smiled, and spoke, "Why don't you look at yourself?"
Shira's hair was an untidy spiky blond. It went this way and that; no comb or brush could fix it. His eyes were sea green, and his complexion was very pale, as was all Elves. He was little over 5'11", and weighed about 195 lbs. He usually wore a white, short-sleeved shirt with long brown pants. Shira always wore the Havon Sword across his back, strapped to him in its scabbard.
Shira was a Legend, famous for defeating the Devil Lord. With being a Legend, he had a strange power. He could create a red aura around himself, which strengthened his awareness, speed, and strength.
The Havon Sword itself had an orb of swirling red and black mist, with three metal claws holding it in place. The handle sprouted from there, leading to a wide base, which had a V on either side of the blade. A red circle with two blue triangles was on both sides. The blade itself was 8 inches wide, and was 3' high. It was heavy enough it took two hands to wield.
Lash, unlike his Elven father, was a Half-elf. Lash's hair was a silvery blond, which came down from the middle of his head straight and neat, like a waterfall all the way around his head. His eyes matched the color of the deep blue ocean. Lash's skin wasn't as pale as his father's, but with a bit more color. He didn't have a weapon like the Havon Sword, but his abilities made up for that. Lash also was half Earth Elemental. Lash control dirt, make plants grow faster, meld through stone, and create dust storms.
Lash was two inches shorter than his father, and 40 pounds under as well. He wore the same clothing as his father, and had his staff. Yet Lash hadn't really experienced battle, as most had. Sure, he had killed a couple of Orcs, but that had at a distance, with Shira up close. He hadn't developed a battle sense yet.
The two were in a small clearing within the Elven forest. Their pond was on the right side of it. Currently, it was evening, and the sun was setting, giving whatever sky visible an orange color.
A soft voice rang out from the North, "Shira! Lash! You're late for dinner! Don't make me come down there!" An arrow lodged itself in a tree nearby.
"Just try to hit me!" Shira shouted as he stood up and spread himself out in an X. He apparently was in great need of amusement. A small rock hit him square between the eyes.
"Dive! Dive!" Lash shouted as he pulled Shira into the pond with him.
Lash's mother, Amberle, ran up to the water's edge. She was an Earth Elemental, born of the earth and bound to it. She had long silvery hair which flowed halfway down her back. Her complexion matched Shira's, and had soft, brown eyes. Being an Elemental, Amberle had a face to make most men stare. She wore a long, white robe, and carried a long bow for fighting. Amberle was a healer, and was kept on order. But, sometimes she would let them get away with small, tiny, insignificant, unimportant things. Note how I emphasize little.
The breeze picked up again, and Amberle's hair flowed gently. She looked around, and saw little bubbles coming out from the pond. She smiled at the boys' weak attempt to hide themselves. "The Orcs might get it first," she called, loud enough for them to hear. Instinctively, Shira jumped up out of the water, his great sword half-way drawn. Lash was a half- second behind him.
"Why didn't you say so?" they chorused, and started to run off. Amberle shook her head.
"But you don't even know which way they are," Amberle called after them. Both Father and son stopped dead, and turned around, walking back. Shira was smiling sheepishly.
"Alright, where are they?" Shira asked. Amberle's face turned stern.
"Just west of here. But, there are more than usual," she warned carefully.
"Oh come on," Shira started in a careless tone, "Fifteen Orcs isn't that bad."
"More than that, Shira," Amberle said. Shira froze a minute, then started again.
"Okay...25 isn't that bad."
"More."
"35?"
"Even more."
Shira was panicky by now. "45?" he asked.
"Try about 150," Amberle told him. Shira put on a brave face.
"We can handle that, right Lash?" Shira asked.
Lash was caught by surprise. He wasn't too sure about that. 150 Orcs, he thought, that sounds like a lot. Still.
"Um, sure," he said.
"See, the kid can fight," Shira said, starting to get back in his obsession with fighting. Amberle thought for a moment.
"Alright then," she said. Shira gave a whoop and ran off, Lash following him. Amberle watched them go for a moment, a look of concern on her face, before walking back the way she came.
Shira ran up ahead, oblivious to anything else. Lash ran after him. Half-elves weren't as fast as Elves. By the time Shira had stopped, Lash was slightly panting.
They had reached another clearing, much bigger than the last one. There was a slight hill on the east side, where Shira and Lash were. It overlooked the clearing, and on the other side was the 150 Orcs. They hadn't noticed them yet, and Lash was glad of that. They looked disorganized, but an Orc would rip you apart. Worse, he could smell them all the way from over here.
Shira stood a moment, and Lash was surprised he hadn't gone running off after them. Then Shira snapped his fingers, and started rolling around in the mud. Lash stared at his father.
"Quick Lash, get dirty and cover your skin with mud," Shira whispered. Hesitatingly, Lash followed suit. Soon they both were dirty and looked like two Orcs, except that they were too tall. So Shira let Lash do what Amberle would kill them for (besides rolling in the mud): squatting and pulling their shirts over their knees. Soon they were walking into the Orc horde. Lash wasn't supposed to say anything: his voice was too high and he couldn't speak Orcish. A very, very few Orcs could speak Human, but mostly they spoke their native language. Shira however, could speak Orcish fluently, even though he was a little rusty.
The Orcs had divided into fifteen groups, each with ten Orcs. Tents made a circle, with logs making a mini circle. The Orcs were lounging about, talking and eating birds.
Blending in with the Orcs, Shira whispered to Lash, "Psst! Get to the other side and get ready." Lash obediently walked over and sat quietly, memorizing arcane symbols in his head.
Shira was talking to Orcs in their native language, "So, where are we going again?"
One of the Orcs, sitting on a log, answered him, "Who knows, and who cares? You don't look like an Orc."
"Would you like find out?" Shira challenged, his right hand on the palm of his sword. The challenged Orc stood up and took out a spear. Shira watched as the Orc charged him with his weapon. At the last second, Shira slid to the side and drew his two-handed sword, bringing it down on the Orc's head and cutting him in two.
The Orcs watching cheered Shira's kill, until they saw the handle of his sword. The sword they hated. With his arm, Shira wiped the mud off his face, and with a dark look, Shira spoke in a dark tone, "Now it's your turn."
Instantly, every Orc there charged Shira. He and his sword instinctively became a dance and blur of death, striking any who came too near.
Then meteors suddenly flew from the sky, and smashed into the horde, sending shrapnel and bodies high into the air. Orcs turned their attention behind them to see Lash gesturing in the air with his staff and hands, mumbling, "Aiquamu nesho!"
More meteors came from above, smashing into Orcs that were running at him. Then Shira continued his dance of death, and only four Orcs continued to approach Lash. Lash quickly muttered a spell on his staff, changing it into a fiery staff. He swung it, and it hit one Orc on the head, causing him and two others to catch flame. That left one more.
The Orc swung at Lash with a saber, and Lash was hard-pressed to get out of its way. He swung his staff again, but the Orc jumped back, and started to run at Lash. Lash stuck one end of his staff out, and it stabbed through the Orcs stomach. Lash's fire staff spell ended, and he took his staff out of the dead corpse. It was covered in black blood.
Shira had successfully killed the rest of the Orcs off and was walking over, the Havon Sword in his hands. Lash looked at himself and saw he was covered in black Orc blood. He felt that familiar feeling in his throat, and he turned around to start emptying his stomach. Shira smiled as he saw him.
"Don't worry, empty it now while you can," Shira said, walking over and putting his hand on Lash's back (yet looking away). Lash finished his chucking, and stood up, wiping his mouth with his wrist. He then began wiping blood off him by using dirt and mud. Shira wiped his sword off, and then sheathed it.
"Now we can have dinner," he said, dusting his hands and placing them on his hips. Lash, who had finished wiping himself off, started to smile.
"We had better hurry then," Lash said, "Mother invited him, remember?" The two had started to walk home. Night had fallen completely, and it was dark (of course).
Shira threw up his hands in despair. He spoke with exaggerated sarcasm, "That endless pit! He can eat as much as seven Hobbits and five Trolls, plus some!" By now, Lash and Shira had reached the forest line again, and were walking in perfect silence, not a noise made by their feet. It had gotten darker in the forest than in the clearing (because forests block out more light).
Laughing at his father's comment, Lash spoke merrily, "Father, you never look around you, do you?"
Stopping to think about what Lash said, he looked around. Elves, Hobbits, and half-elves have a special gift called infravision. It allows them to see in the dark for a distance. Half-elves can see only half the distance of Hobbits and Elves. However, all of their infravision is ruined by torches or light.
Since there was no light, Shira and Lash's infravision allowed them to see. Shira looked around, and saw just who he had been talking about right behind them. He walked a bit closer, until he was next to Shira.
No one knew who he was, much less what he was. He claimed he was a Half-faerie, and since no one knew what that was, they believed him partly. He was mostly human, except that he had a bone claw on each base knuckle of his finger (not thumbs, thumbs aren't fingers), that simply stayed there, six inches long. To top it off, he had a six-foot tail, which was skin colored and ended in a tip. The Half-faerie otherwise had normal skin, with short red hair that went back and deep blue eyes. He always wore a black cloak and long-sleeved brown shirt and pants.
The Half-faerie had appeared out of nowhere, two years before Shira escaped, and many people who were superstitious thought he was a demon. Regardless, the Half-faerie had proved himself an ally against darkness. Yet he wouldn't tell about where he came from, who he was, or his past. He was full of mystery, and said to have strange abilities. Lash wasn't sure about that, but he knew the Half-faerie could scare you half to death with a glare if he wanted to. To top his dark and mysterious personality off, he was completely unpredictable.
The Half-faerie walked up to Shira, his face blank. The look on Shira's face when he had spotted was still there, and Lash began to laugh at it. Almost right after, the Half-faerie joined him, realizing what was so funny. Shira simply stood there, wondering what was happening.
"What's so funny?" he asked. The Half-faerie stopped laughing and explained. Shira, trying not to get it, waved them off, and continued to go home; Lash got enough control to join him and the Half-faerie.
He listened in on the conversation. The Half-faerie first told what was happening in Koria, and then they started talking about their favorite subjects. The Half-faerie and Shira talked about weapons, battle strategies, armies, more weapons, and basically fighting. Lash was fine until someone said 3-50 V trap, and then he was lost. When it came to battle strategies, Lash was completely lost.
They arrived at Shira's little mansion. It was a two story marble structure, made by Shira and some of his friends. On the first floor was a kitchen, a sort of living room where Shira would talk with the Half-faerie that held a fireplace, a wash room, a place with a hole for using the bathroom, and a weapons room. A hallway led to each. In the hall way was a set of stairs that led to the second story. The second story held Lash's bedroom, Shira and Amberle's room, a training room, and a room where the library was.
The three walked in, and wisely headed for the wash room, where they washed off. Afterwards, they walked into the kitchen, where the dining table was. They entered, and the Half-faerie went to say hello to Amberle.
However, Amberle hadn't heard them, so when he put his hand on her shoulder, she jumped and spun around, and hit him right in the face with a frying pan. The Half-faerie last thought before he was hit was: Why me?
He made contact with the pan, and landed on his face, his hands instantly on his face. Shira and Lash broke into laughter, and Amberle's eyes widened with realization of who she hit. The Half-faerie struggled to get up, only because he was laughing himself. Eventually, Amberle laughed a little, and put dinner on the table. They all sat at the table, and ate. After dinner, Lash went up stairs to study.
Ten minutes later, Lash heard a crash downstairs. Imagining his father and the Half-faerie wrestling in the living room, he went down. He knew instantly something was wrong. Fire was raging, and Shira and the Half- faerie were at the bottom of the stairs, fighting a foe Lash didn't know. One glance of them told him who they were though: Devils.
Devils have thin, black bodies, claws for fingers, sharp teeth, red eyes, a triangular head, and a tail had a small triangle on the end. Each of the Devils had a long sword, and they seemed numberless. Lash's face showed his fear at the Devils. Instinctively Lash started to cast magic.
Down at the bottom of the stairs, Shira's aura blazed brightly, and the Havon Sword's blade was a white light. Shira shouted, "Amberle's already gone! Go with the Half-faerie!"
Lash hesitated, but the Half-faerie didn't. Forgoing his fighting, he turned around and leaped up the stairs. His tail wrapped around Lash and picked him up, running with him. The flames had gotten higher, and the Half- faerie stopped in Lash's room, setting him down. He waited while Lash grabbed his spell book, and the Half-faerie picked him up again, climbing on the roof. Then he jumped.
Lash flew in a different direction than the Half-faerie. He ran away from the burning structure, and hid behind a rock.
Suddenly Lash felt the grip of a hand with claws cover his mouth. "Stop, you Mosiaequatu," Lash warned. But blackness crept over his vision as he slipped into unconsciousness.