Chapter 1: Surprise

Kulvarin pulled himself awake and approached the basin on a stool in the center of his chamber and splashed water on his face, waking him completely. His fingers ran through his stunning blonde hair, straightening it, and massaged the tips of his pointed ears. He approached his leather armor, so meticulously hung onto the far wall, and pulled it over his body carefully. This armor was his final present from his mother, and he had cherished it since he was twelve. Stopping only a moment to think about his mother, he reached for his sword, and strapped it to his side. He slowly parted from the solitude of his room and traveled down the long spiraling staircase of his home, grown and shaped naturally with the tree he lived in. As he reached the bottom, he grew tense, as his morning sparring sessions with his father were never pleasant.

Lenadil, Kulvarin’s elven father, was waiting for his son out on the field of green grass surrounded by towering oaks. Lenadil was wearing only simple cloth armor. He had hair the color of pure gold. His ears were more pointed than his son’s but their deep, blue eyes were the same. Kulvarin and his father had to hide from both the human and elven societies. Lenadil was the best swordsman and mage in the elven kingdoms but he had committed an unspeakable crime, he had a human lover. They kept it secret at first but eventually Dovasary gave birth to what both races viewed as an abomination, a half-elf. Dovasary was throne in jail and Kulvarin was meant to be executed on the night of his birth.

Only one person knew exactly what happened that night, Lenadil. Some say he became a demi-god, others say it was a demon that looked like Lenadil. Whatever happened, Lenadil shattered the gates and killed nearly three hundred men and elves to rescue his bastard son and his love.

“Don’t think just because it’s you’re sixteenth birthday I’ll go easy on you.” His father called out to him.

“I don’t expect you to. Remember, if I beat you, you have to tell me the prophecy.” Kulvarin replied. His father had accidentally let his tongue slip and told his son there was an ancient prophecy that explained why he was forbidden to live.

They both drew their swords simultaneously and rushed to meet in the middle with sparks flying everywhere from when their swords met. His father spun and slashed mercilessly. Kulvarin parried most of the attacks, but was hit directly in his stomach and lost his breath. He quickly got to his senses and just barely parried another blow. Then he twisted and went on the offensive.

It went on for a long time until when Kulvarin struck his father’s sword and flames burst from his own sword. “Was that-“

“Yes, magic,” his father replied to his son’s unfinished question. “Let’s stop for now, we’ll call it a draw. Go wash and change and meet me in the library.” His father turned and walked toward the house.

Kulvarin nervously went up to his room. His father forbade him from going into the library. It was filled with knowledge of spells, curses, demons, and even gods. His father told him even some books can be dangerous, depending on what they’re about. He left his room and climbed to the top of his house. His father was waiting for him outside the library’s doors.

“My son, now that you have acquired your magical talent, we shall be starting lessons for it,” his father instructed, “beginning now.” The doors seemed to open by themselves and as Kulvarin peered inside it, he gasped aloud with excitement, awe, and fear.