Pawn of the Gods: Treasure of Gael

It was Mid Summer's Eve, the day the Battle of Night was ended by Alwinera and Adarian, 30,000 years ago. It was an auspicious day, one of endings, one of beginnings.

Our story begins with a young light elf, born of the wood. Light elves lived in wooded areas. Legend says they were born of the Creators tear, as she wept for her lost lover. Silver and pure, with emerald eyes of the heavens, or the aqua eyes of the seas, are the Light elves.

Uri layed on his cot, pointed ears relaxed, immersed in his book. His long ebony hair tucked underneath him and splayed across his shoulders.

"The Ta'armi will be born among the races of Anteria, he will bring the Gods down and lead Anteria into a new age," Uri murmured aloud. His ears twitched as his Uncle called him for dinner. He pushed himself up, off the cot, glancing out of his peripheral vision and manuvering himself to the table, book in front of his nose.

Uri sat down at the table as his uncle set a bowl of stew in front of him, the thick book in his slim hands. He accidently sat on his hair, absent mindedly sweeping it behind him, never taking his eyes from the book.

"What have you got there, Uri?" Zeke, his uncle, asked, settling down across from his nephew. Uri turned the book, still reading it, towards his uncle, so he could see the cover. "Prophecy of the Dark Elf? Nasty creatures, thieving the lot of them," Zeke chuckled, spooning stew into his mouth. Uri absently took a bite. He dropped his spoon, clamping a hand to his mouth. Zeke laughed.

"Hot," Uri mumbled around a chunk of potato, blushing in embarassment. He put the book down, concentrating on his food. Zeke shook his head. A knock was heard at the door and Zeke stood up to answer it. He opened the door and a female stood there, a box in her hands.

"For you, Zeke," she said, profferring the box. Mid Summer's Eve was a day of celebration. Pushing the Dark Elves back into hiding had been a task that had cost many lives and had united the Kingdoms together. Zeke smiled and opened it. Inside was a thick cloak, black as night. "Is your nephew about?"

"Yes, he's got his nose buried in another book," Zeke chuckled. "Come in, Ma'iola," Her hair swept the ground as she walked, long and silver. She was almost as old as Zeke, who was well in to his eight-thousands. His uncle's hair only had streaks of silver through it, laugh lines on his cheeks and wise green eyes. "There must be another reason why you're here, Mai-mai," Zeke said, using her nickname from when they were children.

"I've brought someone to see Uri," Ma'iola said. "Rikita," she motioned the young girl forward. She stepped hesistantly, slender feet bare, red eyes wide as she glanced at Uri. Uri tore his gaze from Prophecy of the Dark Elf and bent down on one knee, scooping her into his arms.

"My friend, so thirsty for knowledge," he smiled, ocean blue eyes still far away, buried in some Dark Elf lore. His ebony hair fell around his face as he stood. "Come, let us go find a book you want read,"

"Raja, I can read lots of books," she said softly. "I'm not as young as I used to be, Uri," A soft blush crept up her cheeks. Uri chuckled, taking her hand in his and taking her to his minature library. Ma'iola gasped.

"Zeke," she whispered. "Did she just call him what I think she did?"

"Aye, she called him 'King'," Zeke frowned, a thoughtful look on his face as he watched his nephew and Rikita leave.