A Prelude

 

Night. A dark forest. A group of what appears to be people gathered around a woman kneeling on the ground. Sighing, she brushed her blond hair out of her eyes, and looked up at the ones assembled. “{There is no doubt. The Bones read that this is a year when we must look beyond our borders for the Chosen.}” She swept a mess of bones and rocks into a leather bag and refastened it about her person. As she stood, a man strode forward, clutching the grip of his bow angrily.

 

“{We are Elves! We do not need the help of the wizards in this.}”

 

“{It is the will of the Gods.}” The woman dismissed his concern, with a negligent sweep of her hand. The Elves around her sighed uneasily. Gods. They play games with the lives of mortals.

 

“{We accede to the will of the Oracle. What must be, will be. You and five warriors will leave tomorrow and go see Dumbledore.}” A male Elf stepped forward, his demeanour weary.

 

“{Quyter, this will turn out for the best, you’ll see, my brother.}” The Oracle stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

 

“{Who is a chief to argue with the Gods? The Huntress and the Horned One choose whom they will, you know that. Of all people, you know that.}” He smiled at her then turned to the group of Elves standing patiently for his commands. “{We sleep, then tomorrow at dawn, Tur, Isk, Fer, Sif, }” And he stared steadily at the recalcitrant warrior who spoke up before, “{And you, Kerast. You will also go with the Oracle.}” Kerast dropped his gaze sullenly, and nodded. “{Come, this is not a safe place to sleep.}” The Elves moved out, behind Quyter who made a way for them through the forest, arranging the warriors to best protect the women and the young. The Oracle paused a moment, then followed them through the deepening mists. A voice howled noisily and she shivered, and  ran to catch up with the Elves who were steadily walking through the night.

To be continued...

 

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