//------------------------------// // Prologue: The Last Prayer // Story: Noble and Free // by Kaffeina //------------------------------// Prologue The Last Prayer A vast forest stretched across the horizon, as it had for millennia lost. In the early morning light, the forest was aglow with the green and yellows that would be expected in such a place. The forest itself was beautiful and brought contentment to those that would walk amidst it, yet, as it was, there were no others to walk in this eerily silent glen in which rested the last denizen of the great forest. Blonde hair of an almost shining vibrancy, like that of an early morning star, cascaded upon the ground to surrounded a peaceful face of fair complexion and soft, delicate, but powerful features. In the past, many had complimented the woman on her beauty, yet none here would ever do so again. Her sharply pointed ears twitched slightly as her eyes opened to revealed a striking silver. The last elf of the forest woke, once more, to almost pure silence save for the wind and pitter-patter of morning dew as it fell from the canopy of leaves. She did not move, and instead chose to stare at the leaves and patches of sunlight above her. Where they had gone wrong, what exactly had happened, she could not tell and did not know. She had told them, so long ago, that something had been wrong. She had felt it, but none had listened. Perhaps this was her penance for not forcing them to realize what was happening, though she remembered it as though it had been yesterday. First, they had stopped hearing from their cousins in the other Great Forests. Then, the dwarves had stopped appearing. The monsters that had once been seen throughout the lands all vanished, an unspoken blessing. The other races had gradually stopped speaking and faded out to where she could not know. She did not know where, but now she was quite certain of what had happened to them. As had happened here, the elves had slowly given up and become one with the forest they had protected and were so loving of. The dwarves had likely done the same in their undermountain homes. The last time she had seen another living being had been... she was not sure, it was so many sunsets long past. A lone fox had lain on the ground and whined as she had approached. The poor thing had a small thorn in its paw, and she had removed it with as little pain as she could cause. For many days, possibly years, the little fox had followed her and walked the silent woods with her. Her only and her final companion. The young fox, if it could be called young anymore, though it was to her, had reached an old age and simply stopped. Like with everyone she had seen before, the forest had slowly taken it over. Some, long long ago, had suspected the forest was causing this, but she had always been sure it was something else. Perhaps it was an ancient magic. Perhaps, it was just the way things were supposed to go. The way they would always go. There was one thing she knew for certain. It never hurt, because the eyes always showed their final emotions. Happiness. Contentment. Love. The elf had a firm belief that the forest was saving them, giving them a beautiful end as they all had eventually come to desire. She knew, in the past, many would consider it a horror. Yet, who was left but her? There had never been anything she could do, they had wanted it, they had wished for it, and she would not stop them. It had always been their choice and, the forest reflected the love her people had shown it for so very long, it gave them the most loving end it could. The elf gave a forlorn smile as she sat up and looked to the tree on her left, it was considerably smaller than the others. Perhaps, the forest gave her peace by letting her know where her last friend lay. The willow tree, it's vine-like leaves and gnarled branches hanging over the place she had lain, was exactly that. The tree was, in all ways, what had once been that young fox. The young fox, she had given it the name Willow for it's spindly legs and arms, had been the last being she had ever known. It had come long after the last person she had seen, perhaps twice as long as it had been since the little fox had appeared. Why bother counting the sunsets when no one else was there to share them? The last person she had ever seen had been a young human, supposedly she had been the first elf seen in... She couldn't remember what the young man had said, but it had been something equivalent to several lengths of human lives. She had, of course, asked him how the humans had been doing and the young man said that, for some time, it seemed they were going to vanish. She had become interested and inquired what he meant. The humans, not unlike the race long past, had slowly been becoming one with their fields, with the plains they loved so dearly. Yet, one day it had seemingly stopped. She had gone silent when she heard and the young man had asked her where the other elves were. The shock on his face when she had looked up and tears stained her face had almost silenced her, but she spoke, perhaps for the first time in hundreds of sunsets. Her voice had been soft, lilting, and almost inaudible. "Look around you," she had said, "What you see is the remains of my people, not the houses nor the tools scattered throughout this forest, not the fallen arrows, not strings, not the runestones which once protected this place. Nothing you have put together with my people in your past is their remains. They have not died, but they have not lived in so long I cannot remember. Like the other races, yet unlike you humans, they became one with that which they loved. They are no longer elves, but the forest itself. I, however, have remained an elf for so long that I do not know when or how long ago it was this happened, for, is there any point in keeping track of time when no one except nature itself is there to share it? I have watched over this forest for so very long I do not even remember my own name." The man had gone completely silent, the shock on his face betraying his thoughts. "I am the last elf," she said, "the last of a race older than yours by so very long. I held no power when I was younger, but there are none left to argue with me. It is, because of that, I tell you this. While my race and yours were not so favorably aligned, nor were they enemies, I wish you to not make the mistakes of my people. Find what we know, learn from it. Do not become like us and whither off into near nothingness. Do not become like the ones that came before you. Your race is old enough now, old enough for this world to finally, truly, be yours and yours alone. Perhaps, someday, we the old fools, will return and that day, a day when your people will have been around far longer than us, you will teach us. If I live to that day, I ask you make sure that your children, your children's children, and so on, carry this message." The man's eyes widened as he realized the weight of her words, what exactly that meant. He bowed his head, low to the ground, and looked up at those silver eyes. The orbs resembled the moon, the brightest light of the night, and he mustered himself up. "I will carry your words, I will carry them as far as I can. None shall forget you, none shall forget your peoples. The last elf, the last moonset on the dawn of the humanity, your message will be heard." A sad smile graced her face, "Thank you," she said. With a final bow, the man began to walk away and, try as she might, she could not keep her eye on him. For all it was worth, she may have very well been delusional, but her heart hoped. Her people would likely never return, but at least some semblance of their legacy would go on. With extreme grace, she had left the ruins of the village and ventured into the woods. Now, she looked out on the silent forest and towards the tree her ancestors had been so beloved of for so long. It was the only marker, for it was the largest tree in the forest and the easiest to spot. She had once ventured out to the village where she had met the young human, but, as far as she went, she never left the forest. She could not leave the forest, try as she might. Perhaps she had become one with the forest like those before her, and simply didn't know it. She had laughed, if she did not laugh at her own inane ramblings, then what was there to laugh at? There was no one to speak to, she did not even speak to herself. So it was, she ventured forth to the old tree. It was, perhaps, even larger from up close. A painful smile graced her face and she rest her hand on the trunk of the massive tree. Beneath her were the cracked remains of once might have been a pedestal or something similar. A single tear slowly rolled down her face as she whispered, the first words she had said in so very very long. "My people are gone. My home is gone. My family is one with the forest they love. I am all that moves in this forest, except for wind and water. There is no one to speak with me. No one to love. No companionship. There is nothing but the forest and I. I have loved this forest for so very long, but I've never felt so very alone," the tears streamed from her face. "Is this punishment for a deed I once did? Have I not served long enough?" She sobbed into her hands and finally choked out more. "I do not wish for this... If I have to go on I will... But how much longer? So much time has passed I do not even know my own name anymore. I am nothing more than a watcher... What is to be watched where nothing happens? I cannot rest like the rest, I have tried. I cannot take my own life, for nothing here will hurt me. What have I done to deserve eternity?" The elf was on her knees, sobbing before the holy place of her people. It is said, in many places, that pain, sadness, and so many other emotions can be felt by others. By what others, though, for the elf was the last of her kind. She was an Eternal Watcher, and there were no others with her. So. she did not expect anything to happen. Yet. Her people had always placed their faith, not in deities, but in the very nature they lived in. It was that nature that responded, the very nature that was the home and soul of her people. The forest saw it's own, crying out in pain and grief, in loneliness and hopelessness, and it would not stand for it. With all the strength it could muster, with all the love it held for the Last Elf, it heard the Last Prayer and called out as loudly and as far as it could for someone to help it's child. When the elf stopped crying and fell into a deep sleep, the forest ceased it's call. It seemed no one would answer. No one could answer. The child, the last child, would be forever trapped in an endless solitary silence. The forest grieved. The child slept for several days and the forest blessed the momentary respite it gave the poor girl. It had called out for help several times since the first and as usual there was nothing but silence. The sun rose for the third time and, as the forest started to resume its call, something washed over it. Something, the forest knew, was moving it. As the forest shook, a soothing voice spoke and a warm paw graced its trunk. At the base of the largest tree, where the last of the elves slept, stood a young mountain lion. The feline had its paw on the tree and it, as far as the forest could tell, was the one speaking. A young voice, full of strength and power, spoke in a softened tone. "Both you and her have experienced something close to an eternity, and I will not have my children in such grief when I can help it. Where you are going," the feline said, "They will come to love her, and she will have them love you as you once were. This time, the pain will never come, for there is no reason in it." The forest felt a warm glow, stronger than the dull and dying sun it had once known, grace it. A single striking ray of light pierced the canopy and the elf woke. As she opened her eyes, she saw the lion. She gazed at the creature and heard the voice, "Live on, my children, and be loved as you deserve after so long." The elf gasped when the lion simply faded from view. The forest smiled and knew. It's child would be safe, the feline had answered when nothing else had and had gifted them beyond all expectation. Eternity was a long walk alone. Eternity with others is not something so terrible.