The Journey West

"Find the source."

That was the last thing her father had told her before she set out. The words were a mantra that drove Marinelle as she rode day after day. Further and further west, crossing into lands the elves hadn't seen in generations.

The rumors of the curse had reached the elves, though not the curse itself. Or maybe it had. Elven fertility was so low to begin with, who could say? The effects were felt all the same as their borders were increasingly stressed by roving bands, desperately seeking women.

The thought made her blanch. It was rare enough for an elf to give birth, the idea of such a precious opportunity being wasted on another species sickened her. Her father had doubled patrols of the border region to guard against the increasingly aggressive encroachments, but every day had brought a new outrage. Finally the decision had been made to send his most trusted scout, his own daughter, on the mission to find and end the source of their troubles.

"Find the source."

A rare hill broke the flat terrain. A chance to get a better view of the lay of the land. She climbed the crest, thankful her dark curls were pulled back as the wind whipped around her. She let her mount graze and rest while she studied her surroundings. Her muscles tensed as her keen eyes picked up an approaching figure.