Chapter one page one, Light and Shaow: Discovery of Dreams

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He dashes to the first table, and imagines the books he hurriedly scoops to be of dire need of the elven scholars in the Great Hall of Lost Words. As he puts each in its place, he gives a slight nod of the head, as the place on the shelf where it belongs, is a hand ready to receive them. “Make haste boy, this is no time for heavy feet. The others are waiting on you as have I been.” Yes lord Ethrinaldar. He dashes on from one shelf to another, holding brief words with each of them. Not out loud of course, for if the Lady and Master Kydin were to enter, he might fall feint to his utter embarrassment.
Upon reaching the last shelf, with the last book, he gives slight pause and turns to the door. It has not opened and should not appear to do so anytime soon. He looks back to the shelf, “At last Master Rohin, the task is complete, and all scholars have what has been required of me, how might I further aid?” Keep watch young page, and see if another need might yet arise. For now, it appears a task well done, we might yet have a use for you here.”
He places the last book on the shelf with such pride, after speaking his dreams aloud for the first time, that if one had been there … they would think that in the small space on the large shelf ... there might have been the hand of the creator awaiting a golden book of lore. Or, that the boy has lost all good sense about him, and is in need of a firm kick to the backside.
His gaze now falls onto the window aside the fire, and the place of the sun in the sky. It has not yet reached its place at midday. Walking over to, he stands with his legs pressed against the plush blue cushion atop the bench which lines either side of the fireplace, just below the windows pane. Intense green eyes fall on the road leading to and from the estate on the horizon, of which some two miles away lies the the bustling trades town of humans known as Proudrock. He notices, if for a moment, the two black steeds in the west pasture. It is hard not to admire their beauty against the pristine white snow. He thinks of the task his father will endure to get Flame back into her stall and smiles at the thought of such folly.
Back to the road his gaze deepens as well his thoughts of what may come of this day. His eyes begin to follow the line of pines to the west of the road. What's this, I do not recognize this fence. Wait … that looks like the home of the Bellfords … but that is nearly half the distance to town. He shakes his head with eyes closed, ensuring to loose the daze his demanding thoughts of what should come has put him in. Yet, he failed to notice one thing in the process of doing so, the faint white glow that surrounded his eyes. This would have been visible to him in the window's reflection, if he had pulled away from the window before he closed his eyes and shook his head. Thus, a small shred of truth has escaped him.

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After some talk with Kydin, Lord Wolf seeks to leave and tend to matters in the citadel. “Very well Kydin, I shall be returning to the citadel, as to tend to my duties there. If you so wish to have further word with me upon your return, I should be there.” With a tip of his head Kydin bids Lord Wolf well travels. He then turns to a small ornate stand made of mithral, on top of which is encrusted with a fist sized emerald.
This item is know to the elves as a wind's whisper gem, or (elf name). It gives the ability to those to use it, whom can only be of elven kind, the ability to commune with others in possession of one. There were 15 forged long ago, one which is to have been believed destroyed in the raze of Bardsong. His long arm reaches out as the finger of his hand spread wide over the gem. He closes his eyes and focuses on The Keeper, King of Everwood, speaking his name in elvish. He opens his eyes to look upon the gem, at this time a moderate brilliant glow stirs within it, followed by a constant flute like tone that is only heard by those born naturally of magic. It subsides after a short time and a voice is heard (to anyone that would be near by).
“Kydin my friend, of what news shall we share word?” It is nothing of grave importance my king. I have had just ended council with Lord Wolf, who has requested of me, upon that of his lady, to travel to his estate and give assistance to her to better educate the younger humans of the land. “This, I would say, would be of good news.” So it should seem, however I have feeling that the visit is more due to a second request of my teaching a single human, there at the estate of the age sixteen. Lord Wolf, by word of the Lady, and some accord of his own say the boy is of an insatiable hunger for knowledge and exempts physical promise and prowess for his slender stature.
There is a silence. My king? “I but ponder what you have learned and spoken of thus far Kydin. Would you consider the possibility that it may be the lost child?” I have but entertained the notion my king. I did not wish to raise such questions or suspicions with Lord Wolf, and have decided that I might better look into the matter myself. “A reason why you should be considered amongst our wise. Is the family of the fallen Bardsong … families to return to Proudrock?”
Your words are kind my king, knowing I consider myself foolhardy (a faint laugh can be heard and Kydin smiles). No, the family has come with the child, when he was the age of two, from Cresting Wave port. “Interesting.” Indeed, I go now to meet with the Lady Wolf and child. I shall call upon you again with my return to the school. “Very well Kydin, and perhaps with the word of your return, you might need to make ready to travel for a meeting of the council.” Perhaps my King. If it be of thought, I have not been able to foresee anything of this child. Maybe those on the Spire of Dawn's Light might find what I have missed, and word should be sent unto them. “Very true friend, I shall do so myself. May the sun keep you.” And may the stars guide you, my king. Pulling his hand away, the brilliant warm glow fades from the gem, and the emerald returns to a deep green sleep.

(This is very chunky-gaps of story missing. Trying to get to the point mentioned elsewhere)

Tomorrow night there should be a great celebration, and Kydin at this moment should decide to summon his bothers to pay homage to that which has become Proudrock. An ocean of people greet him with cheer, bow, or salute as he rides through them. “Hail Kdyin! Hail Master of Truth!

Good tidings master elf! That last wave, its sound … rings and echoes in his hear. He becomes attuned instantly to something which is unseen.
A faint vibration of rhythmic frequency he has never been aware in meditation. His head snaps to the east, and in the sky is but a twinkle not before seen. Something is a new. It is this moment of the centuries passed of long mourning of the Brave Passing of the beloved Bardsong, when makes so to summon his brothers to give the coming day honor in his name. Bardsong could make some understanding of this vibration, if only I could confide in him its meaning … the council should come, and we shall honor what has been lost … and we shall talk of what has yet been found.
It has be since the completion of Wolf Estate that Kydin eyes last beheld its glory. Built as monument to that which King Bardsong so loved, stood for, and gave his life to. The reflecting pool in the front with a great fountain, before its waters flowed, his body did rise to the moon in a dancing fire. Kydin is but all overcome with lost love of his one true brother. It was he whom ensured that Lord Conrad would accept this home a gift his people once again without debate of his worth. Conrad could not so refuse this of him alone. For he knew of the pain in Kydin's eyes and words, he shared it as his own, and would not do anything to so affect the loss of the elves.

The author never read that particular article mentioned till tonight.

The End.