Dark cobblestones pass under my feet as I rush through the empty streets and towards the edges of the city. I'm aiming for the south gates, the only set of gates that aren't being attacked. I duck around corners and leap over obstacles that have been abandoned in the middle of the streets. The sounds of burning city and screaming fills my ears, just barely audible over the sound of my own heartbeat. My goal is the forest. The only place I'll be safe. The south gates stand in the distance, the edges of the sun peer over it. It is dawn. 'The gates are closed, but that's not a problem. The soldiers guarding them will surely let me through when they see what's in my hands.' In my hands I clutch a small, round bottle. The contents are unknown to me, but I know it is my duty to get it out of the city. 'You must get this out of the city. Take it to the druid Lyraesel. You know the way boy. Go!' The conversation repeats itself in my mind for the hundredth time. The thought pushes me further and faster until the gates were just a few feet in front of me. I skid to a halt in front of the heavy wooden gate. I gasp for air and clutch the bottle close to my chest.
"Halt! Citizen, return to the keep! We are under siege!" A guard hollered from one of the towers. I shook my head and panted. My heart pounded in my chest as I gestured at the gate. "Return at once!" A different guard shouted from my right. I shook my head again and held aloft the bottle and pointed at the gate with the other. "Laeroth! Isn't that what we're looking for?" one of the guards called from behind me. "What is that, boy?" The guard in the tower snapped at me. I shake my head and point at the gate again. "Very well." The guard sneers down at me and snaps his gloved fingers. There's a loud "CRACK" and I sink to my knees. The bottle I was clutching so carefully to my chest falls to the ground, and the world goes dark.
I wake up in a cage. The metal is warm against my cheek. 'Where exactly am I? What am I doing here?' I sit up and grab the bars in front of me. They are cold against my warm palms. Shivers race up and down my spine as the metal begins to steal the heat from my body. On the other side of the bars is a wall. But these are no ordinary walls. They look as if they could be made out of fabric. "So you're awake then?" a gruff voice calls from behind me. "I didn't think you were such a heavy sleeper. Thanks to you though, I no longer have to continue to rip this city to shreds." I turn to face the voice behind me. My eyes meet the steely blue eyes of the man in front of me. Black armor encases his body, and a silver crest adorns the great breastplate. A sword hangs at his waist. His ginger hair is streaked with silver. It cascades down his back and stops just above his waist. He looks familiar, but I can't be sure.
His face is just inches from mine. He has a gloved hand running through his thick beard as he looks me up and down. "Small for an elf, aren't you?" He smiles tensely. "No worries. This is about the bottle." He reaches for his belt and plucks something from the small bag dangling from it. He holds it up to the bars. "You see this?" He shakes the bottle. The very same bottle that I had once had in my possession. My heart sinks as the watery substance sloshes about inside the glass bottle, taunting me. This wasn't supposed to happen. That potion was supposed to be taken to our great druid. My heart began to race. I needed to get that back. "This doesn't belong to the elves." He snaps as he examines the milky substance within the bottle and then glances back at me. "It belongs to my people, and your people stole it from us." His face darkens and he places the bottle back into his bag. "Your people took this from us in the great war. They had no right to possess such a glorious gift. And for this, they will pay."
He turns away from me and stalks over to one of the walls of this prison, which I now realize are the canvas walls of a tent. He throws open one of the flaps, letting in a stream of sunlight, and then stomps away. His black armor and flaming red hair, vanish into the forest. The tent flap falls back into place, closing me off from the outside world yet again. That's when it hits me. His name is Follar Skullcleaver. A shudder runs up and down my spine as I allow this information to sink in.
