It’s a beautiful day, or so it was. The sun was shining, the hills were green, the birds were singing, and the roses were pink. Inside the lush forest lies a tribe of elves, the streets full, the crowd loud as could be, and kids playing peacefully. Amongst the crowd was a single young elf, about 79 years old.(side note: elves live infinitely longer lives than humans, so the equivalent of a young adult elf would be an adult or elder human) The elf sits on the treetops, staring off into the distant, seemingly deep in thought. He sighs and continues to fidget with the arrow in his hand when he hears a voice speak from below. “Hey Nyx!” yelled an elf, “Are you ready for the annual archery competition?” Nyx replies with a smile, “You bet!” as he jumps down from the trees, vines grab on to him, slowing his fall, “You already know I’ve trained hard for it.” Nyx continues, “It’s the greatest event of the season!” The elf says “Well then I have no doubt you’ll be able to one up the performance you put on last year.” They go their separate ways as Nyx heads to the firing range. Arriving at the range, Nyx draws his shortbow, loads 20 arrows, and fires, every arrow hitting every target, he trains until sundown to which then he goes into a tavern. 

The next morning, the day of the archery competition, Nyx wakes up early and gets ready, he arrives at the rendezvous and the host gives him the arrows for the competition, “These arrows are non-lethal and covered in sleep powder so we’ll know if you’re out or not.” the host informs. Nyx gets to his position and waits for the competition to begin, “I got this.” he whispers to himself. The chief of the tribe rises from his seat and announces “Welcome everyone and thank you for joining us on this special day, as you all know this is a sacred event for us and a chance to prove ourselves to our elders, I wish everyone competing the best of luck, and with that… begin!” Nyx, instantaneously, jumps up into the treetops and begins hitting shot after shot. Another elf is performing as well as Nyx, perhaps even better, but soon, it’s only them left in the competition. They meet face to face, both with their bows drawn, they circle around each other and stare each other in the eyes. The elf fires his arrow, Nyx pivots below and slides towards them, standing up next to them with his bow point blank against their head. The elf surrenders and Nyx wins the competition. 

The chief goes up and congratulates Nyx, but before Nyx could be presented with a reward, a flaming arrow barely misses the chief’s head and the gallop of horses is heard. Out from the trees emerges an army of humans led by a knight in bloodred armor, several elf mages raise walls of roots to defend against the attack. “Nyx, run!” the chief yelled as he handed Nyx a box, “No! I’m staying, I’m going to help.” Nyx argued. The chief speaks with a calm and gentle tone, “Listen Nyx, you’re a young elf with a lot of talent, you have much more to live for, go.” Nyx tears up as he takes the box and runs away from the tribe. Looking back, he sees the tribe being burned, elves fighting for their lives, but the one that caught his attention was the knight in bloodred armor standing over the chief’s limp, lifeless body.

To be continued…