The gates of Elibor were large, carved from ancient white wood. The magical forest of Lacuna had surrounded them on the North-Eastern side where the Woodland realm met that of the trees.
Water of the Western Sea surrounded much of the rest. Looking out at the towering cliffs, one felt small and insignificant compared to the sheer size and power of the ocean.
The waves weren't large enough to sweep the lands of Elibor, but on some stormy nights, the elves could see rain dancing and whisking through the air in a mist, and the eery echoes of salt water meeting rocky cliff.
There were archers lining the top of the wooden walls every six feet from each other. They were wearing light armor, glistening the color of light blue. Their helmets covered most of their faces, leaving little space for eyesight. The top of the helmet had one longer pointed edge, like the horn of a rhinoceros.
The elves were equipped with large longbows, made from polished white wood, with special carvings engraved in the tips. The white wood made from the trees that only took refuge in Elibor, unable to grow elsewhere. They held magical properties in their roots, and the wood foraged from their bodies was stronger than some metals. They used it for building, weapon hilts and arrows, medicines, and very few used it for magical brews of different assortments. The trees grew tall, some even taller than the milky brown trees of Lacuna.
"Hello elf masters..." Dorris yelled, waving his hand at the four elves looking over the gate, nocking their bows with their long arrows. The arrows were lengthier than usual, made for going far distances, at the same speed and force as a crossbow. The feathers at the end of the arrow were dark blue, similar to those of a raven.
"State your business, dwarf. I see no welcome for any of you." One elf said, moving his white cloak to his left side to get a better angled shot. The Raven on their cloaks appeared fierce, with its talons ready to strike and wings spread wide.
"We are here for the Tree of Life. For answers from your Lord..." Max paused and walked closer to the gate. "And for Amaris."
The elves looked at each other, and one of them lifted his hand in the air. As soon as he did, the other elves guarding the top of the walls nocked their bows and pointed them towards Max simultaneously.
"We know not one person who goes by that name. Once more, state your business or fall ill to our talons."
"Let us go through or we will show you the full wrath of Dorris the magnificent!" Shayne spouted, shoving Dorris closer to the gates.
He looked at Shayne and shook his head in fury. "No, you little shit! Whatr' you doin'."
"He doesn't know half the time...Dorris there's a word for that I believe...Oh yeah, dimwit." Sammy grunted, rolling her eyes.
"Aha! Dorris - the dwarf from the mountains of Iridian - and all of its magnificence. Can you see my bow trembling in my shaking hands?"
"Do ye' fools know who you are denying entrance to? Meahkthran. Does the name ring any bells in ye' empty heads?"
The elves above the entrance looked at each other once more, and one of them took out an ancient-looking horn.
Curling from its base, gold plating on the bottom, silver plating on the top, made from the strongest of wood. He blew into it, making one of the most melodic sounds the group has ever heard. As soon as the beautiful melody halted, the gates slowly opened.
"Looks to me like you're famous Maximus." Tim said, as they all, after much seen, could finally enter the Woodland realm of Elibor.
As they entered through the gates, Issabelle rushed at Dorris, knocking him down on his buttocks, cleaning his dirtied face with her padded tongue, hooves clattering on the ground in joy and excitement.
ČTEŠ
King of Shadows: Of Blood and Tears
FantasyIn the small town of Shadow Grove, the sounds of his own uncertainty surround seventeen-year-old Maximus as he grapples with his identity. He is plagued with unrelenting episodes of sleep paralysis, his nights full of the sight of a dark creature lo...
