Mylo: part 1

As the leaves turn their colors from dark green to red and yellow. Mylo walked on a small dirt road letting her bare feet feel the soft packed dirt below them with each stride. The wind occasionally blew her long blonde hair away from her face revealing her long ears, the only true characteristic that separated a human from an elf.
         Step by step Mylo’s long legs carried her farther from her home, it was normal for any elf to stroll to any length of their home. The Baelonna Forest held her people with in it for centuries and centuries to come. The forest stretched for hundreds of miles in all directions and at its heart laid the great elven city, Traisel made up of a single tree that towers over mountains.
Mylo walked casually through the forest stopping only to smell the honey sickles that will shortly be gone for the season. As she walked a breeze found it’s way through the forest carrying a scent of ash with it. As curiosity overwhelmed her thoughts she worked her way off the path fallowing this new scent, it’s not everyday that fire is so close to the elven kingdom.
Pushing past vines and carefully stepping over the roots that crept up from the earth. Eventually light could be seen through the gaps in the wilderness and she began to slow as the scent grew stronger. As Mylo crept past the very last few trees sheltering her from the outside world she grew more cautious taking each step slower than the last. Until she stood atop of a small hill with the yellow brush at her legs, swaying in the wind as if mocking the way her hair was being blown out of her face.
What she saw would have brought horror or grief to any one elf. The once great plains that swept across the region were now inhabited by thousands of trolls. As far as Mylo could see tents, lodges and makeshift buildings had been built. The plains lay in ruin, scorched to the ground, bare patches of earth lay were once life thrived.
Mylo watched just long enough to see a troll shaman throw some type of herb into a small fire before she turned and raced back into the forest. She ran as fast as her legs would allow her to go, anger building up inside her. She began casting her will among the forest drawing in its natural energies. Fueling her body and mind.
In mid-run Mylo burst into feathers, leaving black feathers falling to the ground in her wake, but in her place was now the dark form of a raven flying faster than she could have run. Beating its wings the raven flew faster and faster dodging the tree’s as it rose, soon to rise above them looking down on the canopy.
The raven soon swooped down below the treetops. Below it made out the form of windows, doors and other things that would make up a home. Of course it was all done magically so the wood could bend and twist in unimaginable shapes. Knowing where to go the raven flew straight into one of the tree’s windows. Flying over an old elf that was hard at work in his desk, books sprawled out everywhere from his desk to the floor.
The man jumped in surprise as the raven landed in the middle of the floor, the only place that books were absent from. As he turned to look at the bird it was slowly growing in size, straitening its legs and becoming more muscular losing its orange tint and becoming once again tan skin tightening around the strong muscle. As she grew becoming elf once again the feathers seemed to shrink into her skin.
Once it seemed she was done changing the pair studied each other for a short moment. Mylo took in the mans familiar face, his pointed chin much like hers and his silver eyes were much like hers, they looked drastically similar despite the fact that the mans hair was black. The only indication that he was of age was the slightest stoop in his back, that wouldn’t have been noticed to anyone that wasn’t close to him.
“Father… “ Mylo had broken the silence surrounding them. “You know you mustn’t interrupt my studies.”  Interrupted Varro. “The plains have burned, nothing remains!” Mylo jabbed back putting a stop to Varro’s short-lived tirade. He then stepped back as if something had just hit him and looked frail for an ancient elf lord, probably for the first time in his thousand years.
Quickly Varro grabbed his cloak that looked as if it were made from leaves. Their age held by magic, their green never changing color seemed as if they were just recently picked from the tree. “We need to see the elders!” he burst out throwing the cloak over his large frame and beckoning for his daughter to follow.
Mylo quickly fallowed her father quickly as he opened the door heading down the stairs that were all magically carved into the tree so that it wouldn’t die. The stairs lead down in a circular way, like that of a tower. They walked for some few minutes passing other small rooms as they descended.
Finally they came to a large lobby in the bottom of the tree, for those that visited. They pushed passed the common room ignoring the familiarity of there very home. As they stepped out into the open glade, moonlight lit the small space making everything visible. Quickly they fallowed a path leading away from their proud home.
As Mylo and Varro walked the tree’s soon became more scarce opening up around a circle of giant rocks and with in it was water, constantly rippling from the center. Varro stepped over to the well and cupped his hands into the cool water. He brought his hands to his mouth and drank as much as he could as the remainder fell back into the small well.
A few moments passed and a breeze pushed passed the tree’s greeting the two elves. The breeze was gone as fast as it had come and with that Varro let out a bleat from the bottom of his throat imitating that of a horn, loud and clear carried through out the forest. The well’s waters were naturally enchanted to loosen the throat.
Another few moments pass until the ground shook, sounding like thunder. Soon the trees in front of Varro and Mylo parted welcoming the behemoth that approached them. As the trees stopped moving from their supposable permanent places a new form appeared in the moonlight. It was a man much larger than any of the elves; he stood roughly about 10 feet tall.
From his head sprout the horns like that of a ram, curving up and back around so that the ends were near his face. His hair was as brown as the trunk of the trees near by and cascaded down the back of his neck and over his green tunic that matched the rest of his wardrobe. In his hand he held a flute with a bow and quiver on his back. The wood from which they were carved was black, unseen by any mortal yet the string that bound his bow shown in the moonlight and was obviously gold.