Not many knights come to the ancient forests of Irollan. Not many are supposed to, for Syris Thalle is a timeless kingdom devoted to Sylanna, the dragon god of life. Only the Elves worship Sylanna. Mankind worship their other gods- dieties of light, death, or even none at all in the case of wizards. The dwarves worship their dragon god of earth. Our cousins, the dark elves, worship the dragon god of secrets and darkness. The demons worship the dragon god of chaos. It is they especially who are unwelcome here.

I am Anwen, General of the Elves of Syris Thalle and daughter of Lasir, late ruler of the elves. By night or day, it is both my duty and my quest to guard the sanctity of our borders from all they who would enter here. I am Anwen, she who it is rightly said can track a breeze and put an arrow through a bird's eye. The humans rightly call us leaf dwellers, for we do not leave our forest home, or Sylanna lightly. We live in harmony with triants, fairies, and unicorns, drawing strength from their harmonious magic to bolster our ranks of archers and druids. A few of our dead are even interred by sacred rite into a living tree to be reborn as a nymph- the ultimate gift of our alliance with the triants. Mystical creatures abound here, but as I have said, very human knights are found.

But on this day, there was an exception. Varkas, as a stout man with a red cape, brown hair, spiked cuffs, and a gold shield was wandering around my woods again with his hound dog and I wondered what he was up to this time. Varkas was as good friend a friend as any to the Elves of Irollan- he had stood up for us against his own people when he found we were without blame for a crime we didn't commit. Varkas was just, noble, brave, and level-headed- all good qualities for a knight, but Varkas also was tremendously unmotivated to do anything but trouble the deer of Syris Thalle or haunt our taverns in search of ale and elven maids. On this ocassion when I found the graying Varkas at the edge of our forest, I rolled my eyes at him.

"So far from home, Varkas?" I said. "Or are you planning to settle this time and change your vest of furs for one of leaves?" Varkas barked out his laughter.

"No thank you, proud elf!" he said reaching down into the oiled leather pouch at his waist and drawing out a letter. "I only stay just long enough in either place to earn the title of traveler," he said speaking of home as well as Irollan. I took the letter from his hand. Then his eyes grew softer.

"I know you did not like the letter I delivered last."

It was true. The last letter that come to me had told me ill news indeed. The very same young man I had once saved from demons had now been killed by demons in his old age.

The loss of Godric was a sword wound. In my youth, Godric and I had been united in grief and loss. He had been there on the fateful day when my father was murdered by demons and had been captured himself. I had freed Godric, and that had been our second bond of friendship. But there was something more, something else, that had happened later to tie us forever in each other's lives so that this grief was deep. Reluctantly, I took the letter from Varkas.

"I hope nothing has happened to his daughter," I said of Frieda, she who had become the new queen of the human empire and its capital, Talonguard. The Griffen Empire had passed away with with staunchest supporter, Godric, and now wore a most ironic title, the Unicorn Empire, instead. But as I knew, no single living unicorn actually lived inside the empire of its title. The unicorns are reliant on Sylanna, even more than the elves, and would never leave her heels.

"Well, I had better read it before the sun goes down!" I said tearing it open. "If I hesitate any longer I will need a magic spell to see it!" And I hated using magic spells if could help it. It is so easy to deplete magical powers and so difficult to regenerate them, even if as a general I am skilled in the arts. I held the scrap of expensive parchment to the light.

"Sylanna!" I exclaimed as I read the page. "I do not know whether or not to be happy or sad for this tiding you bring, Varkas! Queen Frieda of the Unicorn Empire has invited me to attend a funeral! For our beloved Godric!" Varkas looked at me sadly.

"It is a gladness, lady. You should rejoice. It speaks volumes that Queen Frieda sees the elves as friends and not foes. There will be no war between us for some time. Besides, do you not want to say your own goodbyes to one you cherished?" My eyes fell. It was a while before I spoke. It was a blasphemous truth, and one I would only speak to Varkas.

"To grieve him in person would only remind me. His soul has gone to be with his god, Elwarth, dragon god of light. Frieda heard and saw the angels guide his soul to Elwrath's steps. But I am an elf and Sylanna's chosen. When I die, if I am deemed worthy, my soul will go to a another place. To a different god. So we will never be reunited. In this life, or the next."

"Ah," said Varkas. "A deeper sadness than the first. It is little wonder that the elves mix so little with those of other races, then."

"As long as we are ruled by dragon gods, yes." I said speaking of the seven deities that lived hidden somewhere in the realms of their peoples. Somewhere under foot, I knew, Sylanna stirred and listened to all through the stirring of the leaves. It was because of this that our druids could send messages through one another through our sacred oaks. As a gift of Sylanna, she echoed our words for us and whispered her missives to us through sacred leaves. I knew that as long as I was in the forest, my every word and deed were within the elven god's ears. Even these blasphemous ones.

"No one has served Sylanna better than you, lady," said Varkas, trying to lift my spirits. "And none have been as blessed by her as you. You have her righteous fury as a mother to life. Her strength runs through your veins and in your spells. Sylanna will never abandon you."

"Sometimes I am surprised," I said. I fiddled with the golden roots I wore on a tether around my neck. It was a sacred artifact granted by Sylanna. I had found it on the day my father died and had kept it ever since. That it worked so well was yet another mark of blessing by Sylanna. I loved the forest and protected it with my life. Yet sometimes my religion was wearying in one way.

"Sylanna and Elwrath are brethren," Varkas said with a soft smile. "You worry too much, lady."

"And so is the god of demons, Urgash," I provoked my friend. We both scowled at the name.

"Who is enemy to Sylanna and Elwarth, both! And you have done more to send the demons back to Sheog than any other elf, my lady."

"True," I said with modesty. "Except Findan." I spoke of my cousin, who now had become an even greater general than I. He had gone to the very gates of the demon king with allies to challenge him and restore peace to the surface world of men, elves, and dwarves.

"So will you go?" asked Varkas. "I will escort you, my lady," offered Varkas with a bow. I trembled. It was a momentous decision.

"I will go, if I have Elder Euny's blessing," I said of the old druid priest who watched over our Sacred Tree. He could consult Sylanna for me.

"So be it," said Varkas with a shrug. "More time in the tavern while I wait," said my friend, for he knew that the ceremony could be long.

Indeed it was. For several hours Euny and I sat in silent contemplation inside the Sacred Tree while Sylanna searched our hearts. The smell of fresh herbs lain in a circle all around me and smothered against my cheeks in a salve was calming. Perhaps I needed this calm. Euny surprised me by folding a single acorn into my palm.

"Sylanna wishes your heart peace, my daughter," said Euny. Our chief priest was so old and wizened now that that he could hardly stand. I gasped. I clutched the gift to my chest for it was no little thing.

"But who will watch the borders?" I fussed mostly out of habit. I feared the invasion of demons at any moment like an illness that never fades. Euny smiled at me.

"Fidan will watch the borders. But Sylanna cares about you, child. Our sacred mother wishes you peace and knows you must part our borders for a time to seek it." Euny stood upright against his curled wood staff as tall as he was able. I stared back deep into his eyes.

"Very well, Father Euny," I said tucking the acorn into a deerskin puch around my neck. "I will do as you say." I bowed.

It was a fearful thing to leave our woods. It was an even more fearful thing to do so without a war party. I was accustomed to having at least one unit around me at all times as I prowled and paced every inch of Syris Thalle. But today was a different day. It was, as the acorn, a new life coming into being. I did not shed my sacred leaf armor. I could not shed the green war stripes tattoed below my eyes. But I took with me only a guard of archers and civilans. Our safety I entrusted to Varkas once we reached the border between the human and elven realms. We exchanged unicorns for horses and trained war bears for human knights to guide and guard us on our way. This was a path I had never before trod. It took more trust than I thought myself capable.

"I will guard you and all yours with my life, lady," said Varkas saluting. I stiffened, because it was not just for my life that I feared but for that of my companions. An entire elven court in miniature was coming on my heels, for I was a high born of the realm- a late eleven king's only daughter. In a sense, my visit at the invitation of Talonguard's queen now made me an important emissary to the bordering human kingdom. But it was not for my kingdom's sake that I now walked. It was for my own.

"There it is," said Varkas after nearly two full moons of travel over hills and broad flat plains mowed flat and bare by people. Peasant cottages dotted the land and the residents of these milled like ants in every direction, at nearly every hour. Even when the owl called, some one was not asleep. I had hardly paid attention to Vakas' words. I had been transfixed by the white stone castle up ahead. The old general within me stirred as I wondered how, in case of need, one might best besiege such a vast edifice. Or defend it.

"The old Unicorn Dutchy!" Varkas declared and I swiveled my head around looking for unicorns. But the only thing I saw was a slender river of water running by the castle walls.

"Why the unicorns?" I wondered. Varkas laughed.

"Knights ride horses, here, just like any others! No. The name comes from a late king. It is an emblem he gave to the lineage to reflect their honor and steadfastness. No one can get by the guard of unicorns, easily. They are loyal. Solid. Determined. You know this more than anyone," he said for it was true. Many unicorns were born and bred under my judicious eye for some of them were our warriors and all our friends. Only a line of triants, the living trees, was harder to crack through.

"So we are to stay within those walls?" I said shuddering with awe and fear. Because walls of stone were for dwarves and men. Not Sylanna's children.

"Consider it an adventure, my lady," said Varkas who knew well of those. "A learning experience."

Our horses led themselves as much as by us straight through the castle's walls, past its moat and its bridge. The city within stunk of garbage and too many peasants squashed together without purifying the soil and water around them. But the chapels at least kept braziers burning to lessen the smell. I heard an anvil ring and a thousand voices. Cart wheels churning. The city of men was noisy.

On the faces of those we passed were many expressions. Some hate. Some reverent awe. Some lust. Some, love! The elves of Irollan had at times been enemies to mankind when we were attacked. But for others we were allies in critical times of need. For many we were a tale full of mysticism, as unreal to them as their angels were to us for ours was a different god. Sylanna's elder brother ruled here, Elwrath, the god of light. But as a consequence, there was less of Sylanna's life. Death nibbled on the edges of fiercely mortal man.

"Here, my lady," said Varkas offering his arm to me in a human custom when we reached our destination at last. "Give your arm to me and I will be as good and honorable an escort as a knight can be!" I gave my arm to Varkas, though the dependence on someone when I was healthy ran counter to the fierce independence of elves and he knew it. Most elves would die of a fever first before asking for another to snare a rabbit for them. Such an attitude was both one of our strengths and flaws.

"Very well, Varkas!" I said although I was not a child. Far from it. Although my face belonged to a young elf, a multitude of years had passed in human time. Most of those men who shared the same birthday as mine had passed on of old age by now, for Elves were a long-lived race. Varkas, despite the gray in his beard, was younger than me with my cascade of fairest blond locks.

"You look well, lady!" said Varkas, not out of romance, but to calm my nerves more than anything and prove himself a good knight. A wreath of white lilies was woven into my hair like a crown. Over my magic-imbued leaf armor I wore a cloak of white. Like a gown, it rustled in the wind, billowing, for it too was made of plants and not hide or the hair of beasts.

"You have my thanks, Varkas!" I said before we came to the throne room of the dutchy's castle and my guide demonstrated to me how to bow. Frieda, Godric's daughter, sat on the hall's throne. I had never before seen Godric's daughter but I knew much of her. More than she ever knew.

"Queen Frieda," said I with an elegant bow. "Greetings from Syris Thalle! May the Empire of the Unicorn live long in its reign," I said thinking of her father for a moment, "ever true and just!"

"Welcome," said Queen Frieda. "Our friends and allies, welcome! We pray for peace between our nations for many years, and joy in both our kingdoms! But for today, we grieve, for someone dear to us both is lain to rest in his final tomb."

"Yes," I said with unhappy acknowledgement. I held my breath and spoke slowly because I could not choke. There were so many secrets it might be best remained unknown. "Godric was the greatest of men."

"My father was," said Frieda sadly. Yet the look she angled my way was puzzled. How much did she know? As if reading my mind, she revealed a truth.

"Among my late father's possessions were several unsent letters to you. Speaking to those of his court, it seems that you and he were good friends. The letters he sent you were many."

"Godric and I have known each other well from our earliest childhood," I offered by manner of explanation. "I was there to stand before his cradle while my father, Lasir, still lived. I was there when he was a teenager and held captive by demons. When I slit the sinews of his captives, his eternal friendship was the means by which he returned the debt," I explained skillfully. But I added on another sentence which was much less clever. "And he and I have remained true in council over the years."

"Yes," said Frieda, her eyes still swirling with puzzlement as she sorted out her father's hidden life.

"Yes! Godric was a good one!" said Varkas loudly, lightening the mood. "But a bit simple. He always went around shouting, 'Griffen Eternal!"

"No more often than I went around shouting, 'Sylanna, guide my arrows!" I said with a radiant smile. "What do you want from old generals?"

"You hardly look that old!" Varkas complained tugging on his beard.

"I will in three hundred years," I offered as my only means of consolement. For there was none. Varkas was destined to live out a human's years just like any other man, save for the necromancers.

"The funeral shall be tomorrow," said Frieda in the brighter mood Varkas had brought her. "Please be prepared for the procession at dawn. The burial shall be at noon."

"What about breakfast?" I puzzled.

"Mourners typically fast," said Frieda and I grimaced. Fasting was a human's peculiar religious practice. The practice bothered elves as much as it bothered humans that we made amulets of bird's feet. Sylanna is a god of life, not the torment of it.

"Very well," I said with a touch of annoyance. "We will honor your tradition." I would be sure to eat a much heavier meal the night before.

But I did not feel much like eating when morning came, anyway. The grief of those around me heightened the own grief I felt and so I followed after the long line of human mourners silently. Even the lowliest of peasants came before elves, so it was long past noon when at last I was able to kneel at Godric's grave. It was made out of enormous blocks of gray granite stone and strewn with enough flowers to bury it like a meadow beneath snow. Sorrowed, I brushed the fragrant blooms away to reveal his name. Unwisely then, I wept before the eyes of Frieda.

"So tell me then," said Frieda when all but her nearest and most trusted of guard had gone away. "I am the Queen of this realm. You are as near a queen as there is in yours! Let there not be any secrets between us! What was Godric to you?"

"Godric?" I said. "Ah! Now that is a long story. Are you certain that you want to hear?"

"I do," said Frieda, her eyes determined, seeking.

"Very well," I said, "provided you swear to tell this tale to no one!"

"I swear!" said Queen Frieda of the Unicorn Empire. I looked up into the sky. Hopefully both the gods of Elwrath and Sylanna would grant their mercy to me as I began a tale of long, long ago.