Chapter 1: The Awakening

It had been a long journey to reach the sylvan border of Elmhame. John allowed himself a few moments of rest beneath a great oak tree and reflected.

They called him a monster, when they drove him from his home. Bleeding and naked, he fled from the villagers and soldiers into the frozen wastes. He remembered the pain as an arrow buried itself in his back, and the cold as the snow swallowed him whole. They quit pursuing, then. They thought him dead. John remembered crawling, blind and broken, until the scent of blood had attracted a wolf. He could see the hunger in those yellow eyes. It was nothing compared to his own.

John wasn’t sure if he was a monster, but he certainly was no ordinary man. He had a suspicion that even now, months later, he was only beginning to tap into his powers. But even then, cold and bleeding, he was able to reach out, take hold of the wolf’s fur just as the creature moved in for the kill, and pull every drop of life energy out of the creature. The rush of warmth and power flowed into him, and John rose up, plucked the arrow from his back, and willed his wounds shut. The arrowhead served to part the wolf from it’s fur, and suddenly John was alive again. Weak, and tired, and cold, but alive.

After that, it had been a long journey south, to lands that weren’t ravaged by snow and ruled by mortal men. Men who had cast John out for the sin of being unique. John didn’t ask for his powers. He didn’t even fully understand them. All he knew was that one day, his hands drank the life from another man, and after that, he had been a fugitive. There was no trial. No offer of help. Nobody, knowing who he was, offered him the slightest mercy or aid. He desperately clung to the edges of society for as long as he could, until he made the mistake of revealing himself to an old friend, who immediately turned him over to the guard. That John escaped was a miracle of luck.

But he would rely on luck no more. Self-pity had long been discarded, and here in the warm southern kingdom of Elmhame, ruled not by men, but by an Elven Queen and the two Fairy Courts, he would finally be able to begin carving out a life once more.

John’s stomach grumbled angrily at him, and he opened his eyes with a sigh. The first step to carving out a life, it seemed, would be finding food and shelter. Human maps left the entirety of Elmhame as a large, green splotch of forest, giving no indication as to the location of any roads or towns within the sylvan lands, so John wasn’t exactly sure where to start, but South seemed as a good a direction as any, and he started walking. The forest was filled with the sounds of birds and insects, and beautiful flowers bloomed on trees and underfoot. It was all very pretty and idyllic, but it wasn’t until John heard the faint sound of a woman singing that he cracked a smile, correcting his course and heading towards the voice. John had perfected the art of moving silently on his journey, and once he got close enough, he carefully peered out from behind the trunk of a large tree.

She was beautiful. John had seen attractive women before, even if he’d never been in a real relationship, but the creature before him was utterly perfect. Delicate, pointed ears poked up through long, auburn hair. Pink, full lips parted in song, and bright, green eyes scoured the ground as she plucked flowers and mushrooms and the like. Each tiny treasure was placed in a basket she clutched with her free hand, bending at the waist each time she spotted something and giving John an excellent view of her round ass as the loose fabric of her dress slid around it. Beautiful.

No longer content to stand idly by, John resolved to make his presence known. Stepping around the tree entirely and approaching, he called out, “Greetings, beautiful elf,” immediately chiding himself for his overly-formal greeting.

The elf woman in question immediately stopped singing, and John realized that even though he was listening intently, he understood none of the words of her song. She blinked at him for a long moment, and he wondered if the two of them even shared a language, before her beautiful lips stretched into a friendly smile, and she turned to face him directly.

“Greetings, human,” She said, beaming brightly in a way that made John feel like the most important man alive, “Welcome to Elmhame, for you must be newly arrived if you find a lowly elven maiden such as myself to be beautiful.”

John hesitated, searching for the right words, but he took a few steps closer anyway. “Ah, you have the right of it. I only arrived today. I heard you singing, I hope I’m not disturbing you?”

The elf shook her head, her hair almost shimmering as it caught the sunlight, “No, I was just finishing. Are you traveling on foot?”

John nodded, not sure how much information he was willing to divulge. “Yes. It was a long trek, I’m afraid, but I’m glad to have made it. My name is John, by the way.”

The elf smiled, and, turning, beckoned for John to follow her. “It’s nice to meet you, John, I’m Lily. I baked some honey-cake this morning, if you would accompany me back to my cottage. I rarely get visitors, and would appreciate the company.”

Beautiful, kind, and generous. John thought he might be in love. “That sounds lovely,” He said, taking large strides to catch up to Lily. Things were looking up already.