• A cave was dug into the side of a snowy mountain. In the cave was a small nest. Two eggs lay there, almost completely hidden by shadows. The chill winter wind beat hard on their protective shells.

    The eggs greatly contrasted each other.

    One was a midnight black, darker than the deepest depths of a forest at night. The stars of the starless night played upon it, mesmerizing all who gazed at this shell. It had an aura of mystery, of evil, so strong that it nearly crushed the egg beside it.

    The other was a pearly pink that outshone the stars. Faint singing came from it, and any who heard it would say an angel was in there. It bathed in a holy light, seeming to be a gift from the heavens.

    They were waiting for their mother’s warm body to return.

    And they waited…

    And waited…

    But she never came…


    The cold night wind whipped around a small majestically-formed tree house as the sun set low on the horizon. Beautiful, mystical singing could be heard from the tree house. Inside the little house, one could find a boy, polishing a newly-carved bow.

    He wore a brown tunic fringed with a dusky russet. His almond eyes and pointed ears were enough for anyone to tell that he was of elven origin. The boy's hair was black, strictly contrasting that last statement, as an elf's hair was rarely this color.

    He sang in the Ancient Language, fortifying the wooden bow with many magics. Words of the Ancient Language were carved into the wood, further strenghthening the weapon. He continued to polish it, and as he did, the bow began to become a pearl pink.

    The boy continued long into the night, and stopped with one word.


    With that, he gently placed the bow in a wooden box lined with velvet. And he fell asleep as the first rays of dawn found him.