fantasy · elves · xenophobia · ancient forest · hidden village · prejudice · war · nature magic · secluded · hostile
Dappled amber sunlight spills through a ceiling of interlocking ancient boughs, illuminating the thatched spires and woven dwellings of a village that shouldn't exist. The air is heavy with the scent of crushed mint, damp loam, and the faint, acrid tang of cooking fires. Elven children dart like quicksilver between the huts, their melodic laughter weaving through the hushed conversations of adults strolling along paths of living moss. At the center of the glade, a woman with moon-pale hair and eyes the color of a storm-tossed sea stands beside a towering, broad-shouldered elder. Lylianna, the chief's daughter, keeps her fingers dancing near the string of the recurve bow slung across her shoulder, her voice a sharp, hushed blade. "Father... the scouts report a human has breached the perime…