Eldorin's Lament: Chronicles of Seraphina, the Arbiter - Prequel -
#1 of Eldorin's Lament
Deep within the heart of the ancient woods, a venerable Unicorn, the Arbiter, recounts the centuries-long blood feud entangling the Wolves, known as the Sharp Fangs, and the Deer, the graceful Swift Hoof.
Eldorin's Lament: Chronicles of Seraphina, the Arbiter
- Prequel -
© Cederwyn Whitefurr
25th January, 2024
All Rights Reserved.
This Week's Writing Challenge: Love rarely goes unpunished.
- Authors Note: I was going back over old Telegram writing prompts, and this one caught my eye - and attention. I was from _some_time ago, but, it was too good for me to pass on, so here it is, maybe late, but better late than never... I present...
Eldorin'sLament:ChroniclesofSeraphina,theArbiter.
In the quiet heart of my beloved Eldorin, where the ancient trees speak to me, whispering tales of ages past, I, Seraphina, a Unicorn, stand as a silent witness to the ebb and flow of time.
For centuries beyond even my recall, my cloven hooves have graced this realm, my mane having felt the warmth of countless sunsets and dawns. It is in these moments, amidst the subtle dance of the magicks that fill this ancient land, that I have watched the tapestry of life - especially those of the Swift Hooves and the Shadow Fangs.
In the ancient past, when Eldorin was but young, the deer and the wolves lived in unison, as the Great One decreed for his children - even I. This balance held for centuries, an equilibrium that embraced the story as old as Eldorin itself. The balance between predator and prey. Nature, in her infinite wisdom, bestowed upon them over centuries, unique gifts. Where once they were animals - in time, they evolved from their feral forms, into bipedal, seemingly content with this intriguing evolutionary change wrought upon them - Nature seemed pleased with her new children...
Yet like all gifts, given to those too young to appreciate such, for as the shadows of strife crept its insidious way across the land, the harmony that existed shattered - giving birth to a blood feud between the Swift Hoof and Shadow Fangs, even I struggle to recall how it began...
As Wolves, proud and cunning, saw the Swift Hoof as mere sustenance, their fangs bared in pursuit of survival and nourishment for themselves and their pack.
In response, the Swift Hooves, graceful and resilient, evolved not only in body and spirit, but they learned something truly wonderful...
They harnessed the very magick that coursed through Eldorin, learning to defend themselves against the relentless predation.
Their conflict, between Swift Hooves and the Shadow Fangs, unfolded in the forest like a tragic symphony. It's notes an abhorrent twisting of the gift they had both been granted. It was animosity, betrayal, and sorrow for both tribes. Once unified, they turned on each other and became entangled in a bitter dance, each move marked by territorial disputes, reprisals, and the echoing howls of hunting packs, against the thunderous cadence of the deer.
I remained, as I always had, impartial and a silent observer. Only when it looked like one side would destroy the other in a violent orgy of death and suffering - I stepped in, an independent Arbiter.
Now, in this tumultuous time, a new war began - a cold war - a chilling undercurrent that swirls just beneath the surface of bare civility and a spring-thaw thin ice sheet of peace. Through me, a ceasefire was brokered, and treaties signed, yet the bitterness and hatred lingered like scattered bones throughout the forest.
Skirmishes broke out, as young, testosterone-fuelled and spurred on by their friends - warriors for both sides clashed. Sharp Fangs sought out and tested the resolve of the Swift Hooves, and vice versa. In the midst of this, the hearts of Eldorin remained divided, the animosity flowing like an unseen river through their veins.
Aria, born of the Swift Hoof tribe, a young, barely of age doe - yet filled with a soul so ancient, it may even rival my own. She is studying to be a healer amongst her people - yet do not ever let her gentle, easy-going, and compassionate nature fool you. She is what this conflict made her - a fierce, cunning warrior - deadly with a spear at a range that both impresses and intimidates the warriors of her tribe, the young bucks, who from the moment they're old enough, are taught to fight with a variety of weapons - including their antlers - if they must.
Kael, the young grey wolf, a full year older than Aria, was born into the Sharp Fang tribe. He is lithe, fast, and deadly - but unlike the others, he kills when he must, quickly and cleanly, forgoing the ravaging and suffering others of his tribe resort to when they bring down their quarry. His eyes carry thoughtful and deep contemplation, but I for one would never wish to meet him in the dark depths of the woods - not alone...
Through the wisdom granted by centuries of observation, I tread softly, striving to be a beacon of hope amidst the growing darkness. To me, the Swift Hooves and Shadow Fangs are kin, their destinies intertwined like the deepest roots of the forest itself. It is my fervent hope, in the coming seasons, something will change - for there is a new dawn on the horizon - I feel it in my bones, and with it comes the hope that at last, there will be the catalyst for change, bridging this seemingly insurmountable gap between their two worlds.
As a mediator, my role was one of delicate balance, a dance on the edge of impartiality. A cultural divide, the scars of ancient battles, they are etched deep into the very heart of my beloved Eldorin. For now, a fragile peace holds - but something new - something even I did not foresee - threatens to either tear both tribes apart - or bring them back together.
I do not know how this will play out...
The tale of Aria and Kael is but a chapter in the vast tome of Eldorin, a chapter whose ending, is yet to be written...
To Be Continued...