The Chronicles of Oerlay-Chapter One

Chapter 1

Morning doves peaked out of the trees as the sun rose from the east. Radiant beams of ultra violet light shone through a giant tree. This was the home of the elves. Towering over mountains, the gargantuan tree watched over them. Castle like architecture was carved into the wood as if it were part fortress. Legend says the tree has existed since the dawn of time; A tree to mark the south, land of the everlasting origin, a snowbound peak to the north, where the creator lies. A tower forged from the azure depths to the west, and to the East, a brilliant blazing mountain. These landmarks had formed the land that is Oerlay.

            Within the Tree’s forest, a young elven woman trained to save her people and her king. Protected by the woodland world around her, she was free to shoot her arrows as she pleased, where she pleased. Her name was Salandra. Her king, Merenek, stood idly at her side, casually training her with the most important of advice. She focused on nothing but his critique, and perfecting her skill.

            “Focus, Salandra. You can do this. Simply arch your elbow a little higher,” Merenek adjusted her arm for her gently, placing the tips of his fingers on her skin and softly lifting her elbow. Her skin burned at his touch.

            She pulled back her arrow, inspired by Merenek’s murmured praise, and with the brief flick of her finger, released the small spear, allowing it to spiral at a deadly speed directly into the trunk of a small tree.

            Salandra stabbed her bow into the ground and brushed her brown, curly hair from her brow. She was short for an elf, thin and tan. Her bright brown eyes were a delicate almond shape, framed with thick lashes, and highly arched brows. She wore attire put together with resources found within the very forest, large leaves, twigs and sticks that only exposed about half of her lower stomach, legs, and arms.

            "Perfect," Merenek assured, "That's enough for today. Get some rest."

He left her and headed back toward the home tree.

            Salandra plucked her arrow from the tree trunk and observed its tip dully. It was very worn down and looked perfectly useless, and she wondered how she had managed to pierce anything at all, let alone a tree trunk.

The world around her sang with the nature of a free forest, one of the very few that had not been overtaken by the humans. Saplings of the home tree lay scattered about the soft, leafy soil of the ground. They towered high above the elven heads, but were still not able to compare to their founding mother. The leaves had just begun to alter their shades, and so the skyline between the trees’ branches was filled with a beautiful array of warm colors. Fallen tree stumps were spread about the brush, overtaken with natural autumn forest weeds, red and orange in hue.

Within the treetops sang the gentle little throats of small birds, and there was the constant crunching of leaves and twigs as the animals roaming the wood scampered about their surroundings. 

            As she regrasped her bow, she looked back over her shoulder toward Castle Winnea with bitter resentment before continuing on. Those blasted humans were the reason the elven kingdom was currently in such ruin.

            North East of the elven society was the massive city of Wissenburg, built directly out of the colorful coral from the reef emerging out of the ocean coast. Castle Winnea was built out of this very coral, sparkling during the day, and glowing in the evening just as the fireflies do at Lake Caregon. Wissenburg was the largest city in all of Oerlay. Prosperous and wealthy, the city flourished with beauty and admiration. This was the kingdom of the humans.

            But all was not well with the royal family. Elegantly walking out onto the south west balcony, princess Celeste’s mind drifted towards the giant tree in that direction.

            Her curiosity was killing her. What, exactly, was out there? Against all odds, Celeste held a strong desire to reunite the human world with the mythical. She examined the giant tuft of green leaves that towered over the rest of the forest, the graceful and majestic branches that seemed to stretch over the treetops, casting a massive shadow over the lesser trees, which stretched their limbs upward in the hope of one day reaching their great mother’s heights.

            One day her father would pass the law. One day soon.

King Rowan was the ruler of the humans. He had been one of many generations to accept the throne; however, he had not the same ideals as his former ancestors. He wished to make a change, not just for the humans, but for the entire world. He had passed his inspirational hopes down to his daughter, and together, they intended to fight against the very war among the humans and the elves, returning the world to its original peace and tranquility. At least it was believed to have been this way according to old legend.

            But that tree…it was so beautiful! She gazed at its gorgeous brown limbs, climbing higher and higher as her eye traveled. There was the gentle patter of footsteps as her childhood friend, Primrose, joined her on the balcony. The young princess glanced at her over her shoulder.

            “Celeste, what are you doing out her all alone?” She teased playfully as she gazed into the same direction at her friend. She squinted and stretched up on her toes, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand.

            “The tree, Prim, that’s what I’m looking at,” She placed her hand on the back of Primrose’s arm and pointed at the majestic structure, “You see?”

            “I do. It is a magnificently large tree, isn’t it?” Primrose fondled her long braid that hung down over her shoulder, nearly ending at her hips, “But why stare at it?”

            Celeste raised her brow, and then turned away solemnly, “Because of the elves. When my father passes the law, I might finally meet them.”

            “Why do you want to see this law passed so badly?” She leaned on the balcony, her forearms resting on the railing and her hands dangling toward the ground below. She turned back to the princess and continued, “Things have been the way that they are since long before you were born. This life should feel of complete normalcy to you.”

            “Well it doesn’t. All that I feel is wrong doing. The legends say we once lived in harmony with those elves, and so help me, we will once more,” Celeste had read and heard and memorized every old fable she had been exposed to. However, none of them gave any explanation as to what had lead to the rivalry between human and myth.

            She frequently found herself dreaming still in her wake. Dreaming about the new and coming world, about the possible life outside of this blasted castle. Primrose was saying something over her shoulder, but Celeste was hardly listening. Until two small hands gripped her arms and gently shook her.

            “Celeste!” Primrose urged, “Pay attention. The laws we have now are already perfect just as they are. This world is perfect, just as it is. You must stop trying to change everything. Our previous rulers used much effort to make things the way that they are today.”

            Celeste refused, and stammered, backing away from her grip, “This world is far from perfect Prim.”

            In a fit of realization and rage, she raised her voice, “These very laws are one of the reasons the dwarves were obliterated! I want the power to change this world, I want to be more than just a spectator, flashing my opinions about, and hurting those who disagree!”

            “I know that,” Primrose stated sharply, “I know that the laws I stand for are the reason my race—and my family are gone. But if you expect an entire kingdom to change and dance to your will, then perhaps you do not deserve to hold the crown.”

             There was a deadly pause. The girls stared at each other harshly, as each waited for the other to speak. Primrose and Celeste fought often about the kingdom. Their differences were, somehow, exactly what brought them together. Celeste straightened out her dress, though it was hardly untidy at all, and cleared her throat.

            “I apologize…for my tone. It was not at all necessary for me to speak to you that way.”

            “Speak to me as you wish,” Primrose smirked, and headed inside from the balcony, “You are the princess, after all.”

            And with that, their apologies had been given, and accepted. Celeste followed her into the castle, and they ended up directly in her bedroom.

            “I forgot to tell you,” Primrose straightened out the sheets of her friend’s bed, and then tidied up the side table that consisted of a candle lamp, one of her many old legend novels, and a small scale pendant, encrusted with the royal crest, “Your mother—the queen, I mean, wishes to see you in the audience hall. I should have said so earlier, I apologize.”

            “Not a bother. I shall meet her at once. As for you, you’d better get back to your duties. The castle staff is sure to notice your lingering disappearance,” Celeste chuckled and was escorted out of her room by Primrose.

            “Yes ma’am!” She was saluted jokingly before they parted in the hallway.

As she made her way to the audience chamber, she took the time to take in the beauty of the castle from within. Though she had lived here all of her life, she could never quite adjust to its splendor. The massive hallway that she walked through now was only a morsel of its entirety. Portraits of former rulers lined the walls; their stony faces seemed to frown upon her, almost as if they knew she planned to completely alter the horrible world they had strived so long to achieve. She avoided their grimaces, keeping her eyes forward. She followed the velvet carpet that lead to a grand door: The entrance to the audience chamber. The door towered far over her, about fifteen feet or so, nearing the cathedral like ceiling. It took two of the royal guards that stood watch about the building to simply open one of the glistening white doors. Her hand grazed the silver doorknob as she lifted it to knock.

            Almost immediately, it was slowly pulled open, with unnoticed--but certain--strain and effort, and she was given a routine introduction before entering the large room.

            Queen Diadorah, her mother, waited for her solemnly. She nodded away the guards and so they were alone in the giant cathedral like area. Her face was perfectly expressionless, with a type of vile beauty that one could not quite explain, with unruly dark hair that messily framed her face. Her brown-black eyes made painful contact with Celeste’s as she began to speak.

            “My daughter, I am afraid I have rather terrible news to share with you," The gem in her crown glistened from the colorful light that shone through a stain glass window.

            Celeste grew uneasy and gnawed on the inside of her lip. Her mother rarely called for her, unless it was something very important. The young princess grew nervous. She found herself fiddling with the skirt of her dress, and searching desperately for something to stare at.

            "It's about your father, my dear. It truly is tragic..."

Celeste placed her hand over her chest in a sudden attempt to soothe her seizing heart, as an abrupt anxiety had taken complete control of her. The thought of anything happening to her beloved father was a crippling idea.

            Her next words came out brief and emotionless, almost more awkward than distressed, "He has been poisoned. He is sure to expire."