The Galdeen Chronicles Part I - The Awakening by Ivan Zoric

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His gaze shot back and forth from one new object to the next, never stopping for more than an instant. There was far too much to take in, and any long amount of time spent looking at one object would drag him behind schedule. He recorded all he saw into his memory, scrawling pictures in his mind of all the foreign birds that took flight directly below the forest's canopy. They swooped over his head, bathing him in shadows and the distinctive call of every breed. The creatures that scurried and slithered and scampered through his feet along the forest floor were just as captivating. The grass and dried up leaves below him seemed to sway and grow with the movement of a thousand beings. They formed tight rings around his feet, so as to not disquiet or end any lives that were going about their own work. For a young elf raised in a raucous city, where nature and life (besides that of the elves) was rare and scattered, the sight witnessed of this first few steps alone was like entering into another realm.

The young elf had never seen such beauty. And mere description of the things he saw was not nearly enough to describe his reaction. He pressed further on, barely stopping once. The great satisfaction of telling others where he'd been seemed to interest him more than the activity at present, and actually embracing all that lay before him. Harrow, it could be said, had a very narrow mind. And at this precise moment, he had his intent focused steadily on the idea of writing a lengthy synopsis of all he had found. This, of course, would require more visits to the forest, and perhaps a small group of assistants tending to the details and recording the findings.

"What a remarkable place", he said to himself. "This would take years to articulate into scripture. A small group of elves couldn't possibly..."

He stopped abruptly. Before him lay a small clearing which was surrounded by an almost perfect circle of large Yoopa trees. Ahead, beyond the perimeter of the clearing, further in the forest, darkness seemed to engulf all that lay within. Only faint sounds of animals could be heard from where Harrow was standing. He looked up at the sky, clear and blue, unmasked by the canopy and brimming with the light of the sun. Ahead in the distance, beyond the cover of forest further against the horizon, there lay the mountains that were most likely borders of the Pininsulo lands. And that contained another legend altogether.

Harrow staggered cautiously towards the darkened underbrush looming in the distance. Ten paces across, he stopped in his tracks and sat on the dewy forest floor. Something was caught in his foot. He figured this would have come from somewhere in that thick region where there was nothing but trees all 'round him and plants that towered overhead. The ground in that area was so full of endless sorts of wildlife and plant life, he was sure to have stepped in something.

Examining the sole of his foot, which was black from so much traveling, he saw dug in right near the base of his foot, a black splinter.