The sorcerers of Lavada

Anise

In the darkness of an early world, four tribes sought magic to fill this world with light. Never to be slaves to the dark, elves, beasts and humans learned to alter the elements to their will. And they called them selves sorcerers…

        In the glory of this new world, they strived for greatness upon measure, never realizing the hatred in the jealousy of those who couldn't use magic. The tribes were named Tramcle, Rosettle, Lavada and Lotisia by the head sorcerer, Aaron. As the rebels attacked, he formed a barrier to keep them out, but not before Anise, a 13 year old human girl, threw a torch. The throw was weak but fast, as it stumbled inside the barrier the flames spread on the ground and the tribes were wiped out, never to be seen again.

        Anise kept out of the celebrations and sat at the edge of the ruins, each day crying in the rain. She sat alone, as an orphan, till one day a crow landed on her head. She reached up to pet it but before she could, she saw an amulet on the birds neck. She jerked her hand away, the amulet was a symbol of magic, if touched by a simple one with no magic power, it would burn her hand. The crow shimmered, and transformed into an elf girl with jet black hair and a silver face, who, still standing on Anise’s head, whispered into her ear.

        The words “I forgive you” changed everything for Anise and she looked up to the elf, but all she could see was a wolf running away, in the distance…

        Anise will never forget that elf, and even in her old age she will wake up to the feeling of a crow on her head. Anise always will keep out of the celebrations, sitting at the edge of the ruins, but never again will she cry in the rain. As long as she keeps on glimpsing a strand of jet black hair and the howl of a wolf in the distance.

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        Evalïne sprinted through the woods as if the spirits of her past had broken through the walls of time. She leaped, transforming in mid air, landing on the top on the palace she called home. Her midnight hair flowed in the wind as she threw her head back and howled at the moon. Brushing her hair from her silver face she sat down on the raggedy pile of logs. Built of wood and moss, her home blended into the surrounding forest. She peered down into a water drain in the roof, she could see her bed of ferns and lichen. Beside her bed was her only belongings, a woollen head band in witch you could hide the dagger that lay beside it. The dagger was pure gold and silver with rub jewels at the top.

        She hopped off the roof and put her headband on, the only gift from her family. Her family had been part of the Rosettle tribe but burnt in the flames as Evalïne hid. Her parents had disowned her. They called her a freak, they were wood elves with soft brown skin and hair and dark green eyes. But she was silver and black, the colours of a shadow elf. They sent her to Tramcle, where the shadow elves lived. But she could never disappear in to the silhouettes of the trees and instead she stood out like a beacon in the fog. Never even named something else than mutant she left to the forest, stealing a dagger from the king. The same dagger that lay in her hand at the moment.

        She tossed the dagger in the air, than flew up and caught it in her beak and landing on her paws she remembered the first time she transformed…