Life... many hold it dear to them, unwilling to let go. When a loved one dies, a person's world is torn apart. Everything that they've ever known changes, and it seems like things begin to collapse around them. For the first few days after a death, nothing seems like it will ever be the same. But soon everything falls back in place, and everyone moves on. It would be as if nothing ever happened. On a larger scale, this is very true. Certain individuals mourn over a death, but society does not notice the change. To society, nothing ever happened.

But, let's say two people die. Then a third. Let's say these are important individuals, like royalty. Society notices now, but it doesn't mourn for long. Everything falls in place yet again.

Now, we shall take this a step further. Entire cities die, whether it be by plague or foul play. An enemy may invade a nation, immediately declaring war. Everything is chaos, and no one knows what life was like before the war. Society crumbles, consumed by its own grieving for the countless lives that are lost. It becomes enraged with what has happened, but it reacts too late to save itself. Now, it is forced to give in to the enemy... the enemy that it first tried to avoid and ignore. The enemy that seemed to small and insignificant for anyone to first notice. But somehow, despite all of this, everything falls in place once again. If you take a closer look though, you find that parts have changed or are missing completely. For Aurora, everything is a jumbled mess. You could compare her life to a one-thousand piece puzzle that a toddler joyfully destroyed. Even worse, some of the pieces are missing. These are the pieces that hold the puzzle together, such as the edges and corners. Thankfully, the majority of her life is still there, even if it's jumbled. Some pieces, however, are flipped over, only their blank sides face up in the light. Anything could be laying on the other side, but even Aurora doesn't know what it is. For as long as she could remember, her life has always been like this puzzle: a large, jumbled mess. She doesn't know what it should look like, and accepts it the way it is. That's how it's always been, and she sees no reason to change it.

Perhaps I should start from the beginning, back to Aurora's childhood, a time she can't remember. A time she was forced to forget. And for a very good reason too, for it held the truth as to why her life was in such a state. A truth that many did not want her to know about...

---

"Mom, are you sure I have to go?"

"Yes, everyone has to go. You know that."

"Not Mark. He doesn't have to!"

"That's because his father won't let him. Now put your shoes on, we're going to be late."

Aurora sighed. She hated being eight years old. Not having a say in life was quite an annoyance. Those adults always thought they were superior because they were taller than her, that's what she thought. Taller and older. But besides that, they were no different than her. Today, her mom was forcing her to go to school. It was the first day of the school year, and she wasn't looking forward to it.

"Why is his dad being so mean?" the little girl asked her mother as she put one of her shoes on the wrong foot but didn't notice. "Mark and I always used to play games during the day at school. He made it fun. What's so important that he can't spend some time at school too?"

Her mother sighed while rolling her hazel eyes. She had the prominent pointed ears that were common with elves, along with naturally pale skin and long, thin fingers. Her hair, which traveled all the way down to her small waist, was brown and rather wavy. The elf had a kind smile on her face.

"Mark is being trained as a sword smith," she said softly. "That's his father's trade, and he's learning it also."

Aurora's silver eyes brightened with joy.

"He's becoming a sword smith?! Will he be working with Dad and Gregg?"

"No, I'm afraid not. Not yet, anyway. Your father and brother are far too advanced for Mark."

Aurora's father and brother were also sword smiths. Her brother, Gregg, was 16 and out of school to learn the trade. He could read and write, but cared about fighting more than anything else. Though he was overprotective of his little sister at times, he was the best brother she could ever have, even if he was only her half-brother. He was full human, as was their father. The father's first wife had died of natural causes, and he had remarried. Aurora had been born shortly after, and so far the family had stayed together. The small girl was a hybrid, but that didn't matter.

"Do you have your shoes on yet?" her mother scolded.

"Yea, but they hurt..."

With a reassuring smile, her mother took her daughter's shoes off and put them on the correct feet before grabbing her hand and leading her out the door.

The streets of Hillorne, the village where they lived, were always filled with people. They were friendly, and all of them thought of each other as family. Small villages were always like that. At least in the Eastern lands, they were. The same couldn't be said for the West and it's only kingdom, DuLexorne. The highly dangerous place was currently at war with the entirety of the East, though no bloodshed had occurred for many years...

Almost one hundred years ago, when the West had been covered in lush forest, a human named Yzekro arrived at the city of DuLexorne, the Western capital. He was a necromancer, and a very powerful one at that. During this time, the elves had owned the West. Though they did not like humans, they let him stay. They were unaware of the power that he held, and also unaware of his intentions. His plan was mass genocide of the elves and dwarves, leaving humans as the only intelligent species in Ésalno. Legends told of Yzekro killing innocent elves and bringing them back to do his bidding. These murders occurred in the lower classes, to mostly unimportant people. Because of this, no one noticed the disappearances for quite some time. By the time the rest of the elves found out, it was too late. Yzekro already had a small group of resurrected followers, and whenever an enemy died he had yet another undead slave. Within a few months, DuLexorne was taken and transformed into a military base. By this time, Yzekro did not need to summon the dead. He scared some of the last elves into fighting for him, and others were held by the false promise of wealth and other things. No one knew of his plans for genocide.

Within a few years, he had complete control of the Western half of the continent. Any elves that had survived without joining him knew they had two choices; fight and die, or give up their homeland and flee to the East. Those who bravely fought were slaughtered, and many of those who traveled to the East did not make it. They were used to the shaded forests they lived in, not the sunny plains of the East. Even worse, some of the human villages to the East learned of Yzekro and decided to help him. Any elves that wandered into the villages were murdered, and their remains left to rot in the sun.

Meanwhile, during the first few years of the war, Yzekro married, and his wife bore him three sons, Medorid, Zaken, and Xanthos. Yzekro, loved his sons more than anything in the world. However, all three died of unknown reasons, being fourteen, thirteen, and twelve at the time. Yzekro had favored Xanthos the most, and grieved for years after his death. The loss had been enormous, and he vowed never to have children again for fear that they might die as well. He ruled over the West without care, burning down the forests that the elves had once loved so much. For almost one hundred years he had done this. Soon, he knew he was ready. Ready to invade the East. His army was strong and large enough to take on the Eastern Kingdoms, but there was only one problem; he was dying of old age.

On his last day, he performed one last curse. One last resurrection. The resurrection of his twelve year old son, Xanthos. But when one's body is controlled by a necromancer's curse, it has no soul. For there to be a soul, a sacrifice must be made. The necromancer must willingly give up his own life. Seeing as he was dying anyway, Yzekro had no problems with this. Chanting the curse, he watched as the skeleton of his son stood before him. Still chanting, he took a knife from a sheath on his leg and thrust it into his stomach. A loud roaring filled his ears as death came upon him, but never once did he look away from his son as he watched the curse being performed. Flesh and tissue covered the boy's bones as his body regenerated, undoing the decay of nearly one hundred years. As Yzekro breathed his last breath, Xanthos's lungs were filled with life-giving oxygen. He opened his eyes to see his unrecognizable father, dead. The generals of the army informed Xanthos of everything. At the age of twelve, he became the ruler of the Western lands, of the kingdom and capital city of DuLexorne. He had one purpose in his new life; not to carry out his father's dream, but to change it. He did not want the genocide of the elves and dwarves -- he only wanted to take over all of Ésalno.

"Mom, are you sure I have to go?" Aurora begged her mother as they came upon the small building that was the school. It was basically just one room with a few chairs. Her mother nodded, hugged her, and sent her through the door. With a pout, Aurora sat in the very back and waited....

Six hours. Six hours of writing, reading, and every other dull thing that had to do with learning. She already knew all of this stuff, but the teacher, who was an old lady in her sixties, didn't notice nor care. The other three children who were in there fell asleep. Aurora was about to do the same when the lady came up to her. She poked her pointed ear, smiling down at her.

"An elf! I didn't notice until now!" she hummed.

"Go mess with Jacob. He's a dwarf."

Jacob, the small child up in front of her, woke up quickly and turned to face her, shaking his head vigorously.

"Or perhaps you could talk to Nera," she said. "She's a vampire."

Nera, the tall girl to her left, awoke and rolled her eyes. She wasn't a vampire at all, though people liked to call her one because of her abnormally long canines. After rolling her eyes, the girl let her head thump back on the desk.

"Can you do any magic?" asked the old lady with a cheerful smile. Some students glanced over at Aurora, waiting for the display.

"Um, I'd rather not..." the small girl muttered shyly.

"Oh, don't worry dear!" the teacher said with a kind laugh. "It'll only be a moment of magic, that's all I'm asking for."

Aurora rolled her eyes and pointed to the desk. "See that glass of water over there?"

Everyone turned to the glass that was on the teacher's desk.

"Look at it closely... tell me if you see it change..."

They continued to stare at it, and with a sly smile Aurora silently stood and walked out the open door. The fools, so gullible. Yes, she had magic, but she had no intentions of using it. She stood by the door, listening... It took them a while to figure out that she was gone.

"Goodness, she teleported!" the lady exclaimed, causing the other students to laugh. Outside, Aurora was choking with laughter at the foolish old lady. However, she was soon interrupted when a hand touched her shoulder. She turned and grinned at the boy who had caught her attention.

"Mark!" she exclaimed, tackling him to the ground. They both laughed for a moment, wrestling in the dirt.

"How was school?" he asked as he stood, helping her up as well. He had light brown hair and green eyes, not to mention a face full of freckles, giving him a tanned look that was so different from her pale skin.

"Boring, as usual. Though I did fool the teacher. How was your day?"

"Painful. My dad's been teaching me everything about swords, and he even made me fight him. He plans on training me how to fight AND make them. I did see your brother and dad though, but only for a short while."

Aurora nodded, a small smile on her face.

"I wish I could learn how to make swords... but my mom wants me to learn archery instead..."

Inside the school, the lady called out to the children, but her words were drowned out with loud cheering. Everyone ran out of the building and down the road, heading to their homes. Finally, the school day was over. Mark tapped her on the shoulder with a toothy grin on his face.

"I'll race you to your house," he said.

"You're on!"

They both bolted down the road, laughing as they did so. People happily cheered them on as they ran, and some even raced after them. The village was quite friendly like that. Mark won easily, but Aurora didn't mind. All that mattered to her was the fact that she was spending time with her best friend.

Mark, by the look on his face, felt the same way as her. Aurora was his only friend in all honesty. Truth was, he didn't get along with many people. Many thought of him as obnoxious and imposing; he wasn't very shy at all. Indeed he was a brave and rash boy who didn't fear speaking out against or for something.

Aurora's mother came outside to see the two children punching each other in the shoulder, laughing. "Mark, how would you like to join us for an early dinner?" she asked kindly. He grinned and nodded, running inside the house. Aurora followed after, her grin almost as wide as his.

"The food won't be ready for while, so we can play a bit more," the little elf-hybrid said, heading to the back door of the small wooden house. The backyard was small but had a tree growing in the middle of it. Natural elven instincts took hold of her, and she began to climb the tree. Mark sat at the bottom of it, looking up at her, jealous of her innate climbing ability.

"Stay on the ground for once, will you?" he said with a glare. Aurora rolled her eyes as she sat on a lower limb.

"I can't help it, I love trees," she said with a smile. Mark jumped up, reaching for her feet so he could pull her out of the tree. She quickly climbed higher, her human friend following after. His climbing was slow but steady, and soon he made it to the top. They always played a game like this in which she climbed and he followed, then she'd move to another spot and he would do the same. They did this for a while until Aurora's mother called them in. They sat at the large wooden table as her father and Gregg walked in the the father and son had golden brown hair and looked more like brothers than anything else.

Usually, everyone would jump up to greet them at the door, but not today. Both of them had sad looks on their faces, and for the first time the two children saw them armed. Aurora's father had a large axe in his hands, and her brother had a short sword.

"Laurena, I need to talk to you," her dad said to her mother, a grim look on his face. They walked into the master bedroom, leaving Gregg to watch Aurora and Mark.

"What's going on, bro?" she asked.

"Nothing that concerns you," he said quickly, his brown eyes flashing as a warning. She sank into the chair, not wishing to anger him. Instead, her attention turned to the door, and she listened as hard as possible to the conversation.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. A few scouts saw--"

"So, Aurora, how was your day?" Gregg asked loudly, knowing that his little sister was trying to eavesdrop.

"Shut up, Gregg. Why do you always have to be so loud?"

"Because it balances out with your silence. But hey, if you don't want to talk to me, I'll talk to your friend instead."

He turned to Mark with a friendly smile, which was gratefully returned. Mark admired Gregg, but never had the chance to talk to him much.

"Ignore him," she said.

"How was your day?" her brother asked.

"Well, it was quite--"

Aurora pressed her hand against his mouth and struggled to listen again.

"When will they be here?"

"Sometime this week."

"This week?! What can we do?"

"There's nothing we can do... we just have to hope they pass over us..."

"OW!!! Mark, why'd you do that?" She cried out, looking at her bitten hand.

"Because you wouldn't let me talk!"

"What's going on?" Aurora's father asked as he came out the door, an annoyed look on his face. He turned to Mark. "I'm afraid you have to leave, your dad wants you home."

With a pout, the boy muttered his good-byes and left, glaring at everyone as he did so.

"Aurora, it's time for bed," her mother said.

"WHAT?! The sun's still up!" she said, pointing at the window.

"Go to bed, now," her mother growled. Before Aurora could do anything, she felt herself lifted out of the chair, but no one had touched her. It was her mother using her telekinetic magic. She floated, her arms crossed, to the door of her room, where she landed softly on her feet.

"Sleep, because you'll need it for tomorrow."

---

"I thought you said they'd be here this week, not this night!"

"That was what the scouts informed me! If I had any idea, I would've told you! We would've been gone already!"

"Aurora, wake up! We have to leave!"

"Huh? What?" Aurora looked around her dark room, wondering who was shaking her. She saw a pair of brown eyes, and knew it was her brother.

"Get your shoes on, we have to go!"

"Why?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

"The village is under attack! You and Mom have to leave!"

Her eyes were wide with horror as she realized what her brother had just said. Her ears filled with terrified screams that she had not heard until now, and she jumped out of bed and looked out the window. What she saw would give her nightmares for years to come... Buildings on fire, people running and screaming... those who stayed to fight were quickly killed by flame, sword or arrow. But... they didn't seem dead. After falling, they stood once more, a hollow gleam in their eyes. Now they began to attack the ones who they tried to protect, fighting along side their murderers. Fireballs fell from the sky, and she looked up to see, for the first time in her life, dragons. She fell in a trance as she stared up at the creatures, but was broken of it when Gregg picked her up and carried her through the door.

"Laurena, you take Aurora and leave," her father said to her mother as he picked up his axe. Her mother's hazel eyes were filled with tears as she nodded. She took Aurora from Gregg, hugging him tightly as she did so. Gregg unsheathed his sword, and walked out the door with his father. Aurora was too frightened and shocked to say or do anything.

"We must leave," she said as she grabbed a small pack from under a counter. She placed two canteens of water inside and enough bread to last a few weeks. She also slipped a dagger inside, a compass, and an old map. With shaking hands, she then handed it to her daughter.

"If we ever get separated, I want you to head east, to Foren."

Aurora was in a daze... she stared at the door, which was ajar. Her eyes were locked on the man that was coming their way.

"Listen to me! You must pay attention! That is the only place you will be safe!"

"Mom..."

She pointed at the man who came in their house. He moved slowly, unnaturally, as he walked toward them. Her mother let out a sorrowful cry as she realized who the man was... it was her husband. He had the axe in his hands, but three arrows sticking out of his chest. Blood dripped onto the wooden floor, but he didn't notice or care. His eyes were black and unblinking, and the only thing that drove him onward was the curse that only a necromancer could cast. With another sorrowful cry, her mother used her telekinetic magic.... her father was in the air for a moment before being slammed into a wall. She grabbed her daughter's hand and ran.

All around them, buildings were collapsing from the fires that consumed them. An evil light was cast from the fires, creating horrid shadows that frightened people more than anything else. It seemed like they were running for a while, until finally they came upon the gates of the village to find them being slammed shut. Two large dragons had been on the other side, leaning against them until they closed, trapping everyone inside to meet their deaths. But there was one opening... a large crack within the stone wall that made up the gates. It was small enough for a dog to go through... or perhaps a child.

"Go!" her mother screamed, pointing at the opening. Aurora looked up at her with frightened eyes. She knew that her mother wouldn't be able to fit.

"Mom, I can't do it..."

"Please, just go!" she cried. Her tears were enough to make her daughter struggle through the small opening. Once on the other side, she heard a tortured scream, and then only the roar of the fires. Her mother, father, and brother... dead. The entire village destroyed. She looked around.... no one. With wide eyes, she fell into a heap on the ground near the stone wall, her eyes flooding with tears. How could everything she had known just slip away from her so quickly? Who could have been so cruel as to have done such a thing? With nothing left to do, she pondered this. She heard the occasional scream as another innocent was slaughtered within the village, but it was nothing more than an echo within her mind.

Aurora didn't know how much time passed. She merely laid there, silently crying. The screams had stopped, though the fires were still roaring. She was the only one left... Why hadn't they killed her too?

"Get up, elf!" a voice called out suddenly. In her own grief she had heard no one approaching. With sad eyes she looked up and gasped at what she saw. A large black dragon was standing in front of her! Dragons were creatures of legend, and she was staring at one. Seated at a space between the lizard's spikes was a boy, only a few years older than her. He had a cruel smile on his face, and his red eyes reflected the fires that burned around the two youths. His short jet black hair was a mess from the wind, which evidently occurred during flight.

"I said, get up!" he yelled, jumping off of his steed and onto the ground. He was adorned in red and black armor that looked extremely heavy, but he seemed to carry it on him with ease. At his hip was his sword, bright silver with rubies encrusted in the hilt. It was much too big for him, but just like the armor, he carried it easily. He unsheathed it and put it at her neck, a dominating smirk on his face.

"You will do what I say, elf girl, before this here sword cuts your tiny neck wide open."

"Shove off," she said with a glare, unafraid of his words. She had lost too much to be afraid.

"What did you say to me?" he asked slowly, not believing what he just heard.

"I said, 'shove off'," she said again. Though, she was very sorry she so much as looked at him afterwards. The hilt of his sword collided with the side of her head, making her dizzy and weak.

"No one speaks to me like that," he said smartly, proud of himself for displaying such power. He sheathed his sword and mounted his dragon, smirking down at the girl as he did so. Even the dragon seemed to be smirking at her. "No one, ever, speaks to Lord Xanthos like that."

The dragon spread it metallic wings and took off, leaving her there against the wall with only the shadows and memories of what had happened to accompany her.