Elf: Battle of Evil Part 1
by Windcall
(Missouri)
Note from Windcall: I've finally decided to submit a story I made up and often re-enact over dishes or homework. The story that most frequently shows up is about… Tell you what. Just read the story for yourself, because I really don't want to spoil it for you! I will tell you one thing, though: in my stories, horses ALWAYS talk, wear armor, and hold government positions or act as civilians. Hope you like it! Please comment if you do.
A black mare paced the ridge-top, her silhouette outlined by the sunset. She was obviously young, for her mane was shorter, mid-shoulder-length, than that of a three- or four-year-old. She was a striking black beyond the quarter-moon shaped white splash half-hidden by her forelock. She tossed her head, and muttered angrily as she stopped her pacing momentarily to scrutinize the gathering darkness. “Why the blazes Dalaroy (DAL-ah-roy) can never be on time, I don’t know!” She changed her tone to one of desperation and breathed in a strangely panicked manner. “Oh, ‘Roy, please hurry! I can only bloody wait so long!”
“Getting impatient, aren’t we, Elf?” The quiet voice materialized into an older, dark grey stallion steadily plodding up the hill. His mane flickered with silver as he approached the anxious mare. “I told you I would arrive the moment the sun was half-asleep. Have I not kept my word?”
Elf glanced briefly at the half-set sun and lowered her head in embarrassed deference. “You have kept your word, Dalaroy. I was worried, because word has it—“
“That the White One from the Workers of Dark Things is tracking me. Yes, I’ve heard all about it. Isn’t it funny?”
“I don’t see anything funny about any part of a battle with the White One.”
“Ah, you are worried about Kordan (kohr-DAHN)! Well, that would make sense. You see, I’ve been waiting for the White One to travel south for the past three years! She told me she would, when we were young.”
“You KNEW her?”
Dalaroy lowered his head slightly and turned away as if embarrassed. “Well, we rather, ahem, excellent friends for a long time. A VERY long time. People called her ‘my filly,’” he snorted as he shook his mane and returned his gaze to Elf. “You’re a lot like her, you know. That’s why I chose you to train.”
Elf blew out air, giving full vent to her evident frustration. She had been waiting nearly an hour, and her trainer was spouting off wildly romantic histories from his younger days. She tensed her muscles, poised to spring into a fighting stance and narrowly miss the stallion. “Listen up, Dal: I haven’t got the time to listen to stories from seven-eight years ago. I want to complete my training and go join the other warriors!”
Elf found herself sprawling on the damp grass before she could continue. Dalaroy’s eyes blackened considerably as he glowered at her. “It is these seven-year-old stories that will save your life and that of Kordan!” He backed away and blinked, then tossed his head regretfully. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking correctly. Your training is finished; it always happens this way. When the apprentice prepares to feign an attack on his trainer, it is time for that apprentice to go to war.”
That’s the first portion! I’ll think about posting another part of Elf’s story. Do you like it? Please comment if you do! I’d love to hear what you think about it!!!!!!
