Deep within a forest, somewhere in Endapano, walked a beautiful wood elf maiden. She walked amongst the tall trees, enjoying every moment of her little jaunt with a beautifully woven wooden basket held by one arm. It contained herbs of many kinds, as well as beautiful flowers, ones the maiden fancied the most. Her brilliant red hair was tied up in a low, messy bun with a few strands draping down the sides of her charming face. Though messy her hair may have been, it somehow only managed to make her even more attractive, instead of not.

Her eyes wandered the ground for anymore flowers and herbs, her steps stopping momentarily so that she could pull a flower or herb whenever she saw one. But she was not so careless as to pluck them from the ground. Instead, she dug them up, roots and all. The maiden wished for the plants to survive, you see, for she intended to plant them elsewhere. And as she dropped to her knees to gather another flower -quite a beautiful blue one, mind you- a red figure dashed by, one which she only saw through the corners of her eyes. She smiled with amusement glinting in her blueberry eyes, and as she turned her head she saw that the red figure was none other than a red fox, chasing a butterfly.

“Moriko, my dear. Won’t you stop playing and help me find more of these flowers? I haven’t seen one in quite some time and I would like some in my garden,” she said to the fox, though, she knew it was futile. She had no spell nor ability that allowed her to communicate with animals, but talking with the fox helped keep her from feeling lonely. Of course, she often told herself there was no reason for feeling lonely, for she was surrounded by nature and its creatures. The forest was welcoming and alive; she could feel it breath with every breeze, hear its voice with every creak of wood on the trees, with every bird song and every symphony performed by the insects. Sometimes she swore she could feel its heart beating. But, she was also aware that none of it was an actual person, and no matter how much she enjoyed the forest which surrounds her, it was painfully lonesome without someone of her own kind. She could speak all she wanted to the creatures, including her very own friend, Moriko the fox, but they could never offer her a reply. They couldn’t even understand the words she spoke, not like a person could.

The fox only looked at her in response and sat in its spot, watching as her smile softened and she turned back to gathering the flower. Once out of the ground and added to the plants in her basket, the elf stood and dusted any dirt from her green dress. “You really ought to be a gentleman and help a lady when she asks for it, you know,” she looked back at Moriko with a playful glint in her eyes before she continued on her way. Moriko sprung to his paws and followed suit, bouncing at her side in a playful manner and sometimes wandering away a few feet.

She looked up at the sky, and noticed that it was beginning to grow dark. Her smiled turned to a small frown; she would have to head back shortly. Though she loved everything in the forest, unfortunately not everything loved her. They were incapable of understanding that she meant no harm and was no threat; in their eyes, she was just a person, a race they knew was capable of harm. Up ahead was proof. The maiden stopped once she realized she happened upon the edge of a town of some sort. It was those people, the ones that didn’t appreciate the forest and its life that harmed its creatures. It was them that taught the animals to fear people. She just looked no different, so of course, they thought she was the same.

However, despite the harsh truth she held no hate for people. It was something that couldn’t be helped, for they needed to hunt in order to survive. They needed the meat for food, needed their hides for warmth. Such a shame it was that this world was kill or be killed; in order for one to survive another must die. How tragic… Of course, she couldn’t be much better in the eyes of the forest creatures. She never hunted, for she could never bring herself to kill another living thing. So, she bought the meat necessary for survival in this town. She figured it was better to make use of the meat, so that its death wasn’t for nothing.

Taking a deep breath, she glanced down at Moriko and offered him a soft smile, “Now, you stay here and wait for me. I will be back shortly.” This command was one of few the fox could actually understand, and surprisingly, it obeyed. It sat and watched as the maiden made her way into the town for a little shopping. She walked down its streets whilst gazing around for any shops that sold food, clutching her wooden basket in front of her with both hands. And she wandered and wandered…and wandered…and wandered…until the sun had finally gone down.

Where was she again?

Grey had never seen anyplace like Endopano. The architecture, street lights. All seemed… organic as if the whole place had grown over the centuries into what it now was. The only problem was… it was full of elves. The one good thing about that was that he could drop the hood of his dove grey cloak. But that was about the only thing he enjoyed about being around "his kind."

Grey's sharp features and pointed ears didn't stand out here. The grey cloak, from which he took his name, had no effect here. In a land of humans it didn't make him invisible but it did make him hard to see in any setting. One of two gifts left him by his long forgotten parents it was actually the thing from which sprang his name. When he was young it was how people referred to him. The "Grey One." Yes if there were any nasty or difficult job to do the people of his village, which was mostly a collection of shacks where liquor was the agreed upon payment, gave that task to him. With little reward and never thanks. When he was younger he'd hated them. Hated them all. And while he still held no love for any of them; in his short time away he'd found pity for them. And eventually, grudgingly, forgiveness. Their entire world was a small valley surrounded by mountains. Outside their giant citadel of granite lay the unknown. A place filled with kings, and dragons and terrors they couldn't even give name to. So while their lives were a miserable, desperate march to the grave, at least they knew what to expect. In their little piece of the world might lie hunger and desperation but at least there was nothing to fear. No change interrupted their dull routine. To most of them the absence of joy was a small price to pay for certainty. For life without challenge or fear. But for Grey? It was a darkness that smothered him. Living without life. He often thought of his first taste of freedom. A glorious day of triumph.

It was planting season. Grey's busiest time of the year. Though slight of form he was the designated beast of burden and it was planting season! A truly glorious time for the young elf. It was a time that everyone wanted (needed) him. He could drag a plow through the average sized field of the tiny village in less than a day and often received several coppers and once even a piece of silver for his efforts! Truly a glorious day! Then came the day that the head of the village called him to care for his field. It was the largest in all the land and though Grey was working another field at the time he dare not refuse. Nor did the man he was presently working for. A delay of only an hour or two would mean a beating for him and possibly a beheading for the man who held him that day. But the reward! Ah! His fields were bereft of stones and nearest the river so this was Grey's easiest work while yeilding the greatest rewards. While the man never paid him, as the end of winter neared he would allow Grey the worse of the fields rewards. But when you're starving even a half-rotted turnip was as the nectar of the Gods and another year that he staved off the only release he saw from this place…

The day began as any other. It was late spring. The humidity was high as was the temperature and Grey's forehead beaded with sweat even before the day began. The plow seemed light today and as he leaned into it's harness he began to whistle a happy tune, even if it was a bit breathless. When first he started to whistle he could swear he saw a glint near the river. Ever the curious one he longed to go see what had caught his eye but he dare not. His contract was clear. Eight hours of work. Thirty minutes of rest and then the rest of the day until well past dark pulling the plow. But, as with everyday, eventually his time for his meal came and he wolfed down the bread and bit of pork this days master saw fit to reward him with. After his "banquet" he closed his eyes and began to sing. 

I have often dreamed of a far off place
where a heros welcome
will be waiting for me
where the crowds will cheer,
when they see my face.
And a voice keeps saying this is where I'm meant to be!
I'll be there some day
I can go the distance
I will find my way
no I won't accept defeat!
I know ev'ry mile
will be worth my while.
When I find my heroes welcome
waiting in…

He sighed sadly, not finishing the verse. There was nothing here to keep hope alive. No one had been to this place since he'd been left here and the woman he'd been left with had died while he was still very young. There would be no "heros welcome". There would be toil and then… a buzzing, whistling sound caught his ear and he looked up. From far afield where he'd first caught a glint of silver there was something coming t'ward him. Fast! He yelped in surprise and put his hand in front of his face to protect it. He felt the sting of contact and slowly brought his hand down. In it was a tiny silver flute.

Grey wandered wide-eyed through the crowds of Endopano. Though most would consider it small, nothing more than a dot on the map to him it was… glorious. Muck filled streets between huge buildings of two… three, stories in height and at the cities center even more! Surely a place where the Gods dwelt in quiet serenity looking down with love upon their creations. It must be so! It must be… And he felt the tug on his flute. The silver proving too tempting to resist to a young thief, Grey was, indeed, a tempting target. But his life had been one where he was the thief and not the thieved. In his tiny village he'd grown used to being the target of thievery but then came the day of the flute and everything had changed. Grey was so far, so very far from his home. He wanted nothing more than to touch and be touched. To speak and be heard. To laugh, to love, to be a part of something greater than himself. He desperately wanted to belong. *he sighed sadly and looked down at the surprised face connected to the arm grasping his flute.* Sleep* was all he said and the man dropped to the ground.

It was then he felt… something. He frowned as the would-be thief dropped behind him. He reached out hopefully, desperately. He felt… her? There was something. Something magnificent. Something… something…

He found a quiet corner and brought the flute to his lips. For several moments he let it play, eyes closed. Mind… searching…
The song wafted through the air. From minor to major it searched through the night.

After several moments he shook his head. "Idiot!" He murmered. You're imagining it. Wishing for something.
Something that is not.
Something that can never be.

*wry small sad smile* Sometimes what you love is just out of reach. You can see it. But even though it doesn't move no matter how hard you try it haunts you, teases you, an lies forever just out of reach.