Return of the Elves

My 1st Wildlands one-shot is published! Check Out Mystery of Thorngage Manor
The rain smelled different, earthy and cold. But its drops felt the same, splashing off my shoulders and face. They came faster than my heart was beating. I stood still while my heart pounded in my ears as if I had run a marathon. Water soaked every inch of hair and cloth. The urge to inhale deep hit all of a sudden. Had I been holding my breath?   Giant trees towered overheard without offering any cover. Their needles only concentrated the droplets. I had been walking home from the market when the rain started. Where did these trees come from?   Soft, water-logged dirt slid from underfoot. Roots and rocks stopped my slide but where's the road?   Water droplets hit the ground with vigor and rebounded into a fine mist, which made every direction look the same. Where's the road?   It felt like every drop in the forest wanted to land on my skin. Each dove for a chance to wick away a bit of heat. I was too cold. Shaking. Where's the road?   A warm light flickered to the right. The kind of light from a lantern or a hearth not the harsh white lights that lined the road. "Hello!?"   Only thunder roared in response. I had to get closer. The roots and mud made a treacherous path forward for shoes designed for roads made with hand-carved pavers. Each stone represented a bit of the essence of the crafter. Chiseled to precise measurements. Laid in elaborate patterns. Elegant design and function. I sure missed them now.   Legs ached at a mere two dozen steps. Heavy feet barely cleared the roots and stones scattered on the forest floor but the light got closer.   My lungs gasped for air. They worked overtime but could not capture enough oxygen to keep me off the ground. My head throbbed louder than my heart then I heard the rusty hinge of a door opening. Light flooded over me. People! People came running out.   A large man hooked his arms under my shoulders. A child touched my arm. Their compassion and care washed over me.   The child's other hand touched their round ear then pointed to my ear. They were not elves. Where was the road?


Cover image: Forest During the Daytime by Tim Mossholder

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