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Hi guys! This is the favorite of all the books I've started/finished, so tell me whatcha think, and what needs work, okay? I don't need spellcheck, I have that on my computer, but i want to know about the storyline. Here's part of Chapter One, which is both incomplete and ridiculously long. So thanks! xd

Note: Kamile's name has an accent on the "e".

Ametris


Quote on back cover:

"Do you ever wonder," Kamile said, slowly and reflectively, "what would happen if you sailed to the edge of the sky?" The horizon lay before them, the sea stretching to the very edge of the clouds, touching the bottom of the sun. It looked as if the sun was floating on the water, and suddenly it seemed only a few miles away.
"I know what you mean," Everan replied, watching the sun too. "Maybe, if you could reach the edge, you could go back..."
"Back through time, right?"
"No, not time. Space. Back through space."
Kamile smiled. "Yes, back through space. And time. And then, back to Ametris."

Somewhere in the dep ocean lay a tiny island, unseen through the heavy mists surrounding it. Ametris Island was a world of its own, including in its borders tall mountains, deep forests, sand-strewn shores, small villages and great cities. It was untroubled by warfare, partially from the thick mists, which ensured safety from all but those who ran their ships aground, much as the inhabitants' ancestors had stumbled across the island. But mostly, war had never touched the island because of a gift of peace from heaven, or so the islanders believed.
Serra Woods reached from the western to the eastern sides of the isle, large mix of tall trees hiding those who lived in it from any unwelcome visitors, though the elves, who dwelled inside its fringes, were a cheery, fun-loving people who welcomed travelers with open arms. In the heart of the forest lay the elves' largest city, Kocha, though by the other islanders' standards it was no more than a village. The elves were undaunted by this criticism, as they had a;ways preferred small towns to huge metropolises.
Hidden in the woods north of Kocha, behind a small, neat schoolhouse, two elven children, a boy and a girl, sat with their backs to a large oak tree, very amused by their teacher's efforts to find them. Professor Marli, who was in fact not much older than they, could be heard treading through the undergrowth, searching high and low.
"Kamile! Everan!" she called, hints of both fury and desperation in her voice. Kamile and Everan remained silent, striving to control the laughter that threatened to expose them, as Marli passed them by, heading deeper into the forest. Once she had gone, Kamile deemed it safe to walk out of the tree's shadow and onto the old dirt path.
Kamile had long dark hair, pulled back in a braid down her back, and she wore a white pinafore over a green smock, the traditional schoolgirl outfit in Kocha. Her appearance struck as more impish than elven, for though pretty, as most elven girls tended to be, more than the average amount of mischievous delight danced in her large eyes, which were a very light gray-blue, almost silver. She looked up and down the path, then, apparently satisfied, she beckoned to her companion, who joined her on the path.
Everan looked very similar to Kamile, with the same dakr hair and silver eyes. However, the two were complete opposites. Everan was quiet and shy; in fact, not many could claim to have heard him say two full sentences at one time before. He was steady and reserved, while Kamile was unpredictable and wild. And yet, despite their differences, the two were rarely seen apart. It was a perfect example of a friendship impossible to find twice in a lifetime; simply put, the two could not live wihtout each other.

That's the first part, which is only half of page one. And there's fifteen of them :XP. so tell me I'm not a geek.

Hey, it's alright, I'm here with comments! Oh, by the way, thank you very much for following the rules! It's very much appreciated 3nodding

Now, onto comments. It was a very interesting beginning. I like your setting details, and I like how you don't overwhelm the reader with too much detail with the setting. I don't believe, however, there was enough detail in the characters, but you may be planning to add that later.

Overall, it's a very good introduction and I would love to read more!

Hello,

The beginning where the main characters are talking about the sun and all, I thought was really sweet in a strange sentimental way, but, being that I love detail, I would have liked to see a little more emotion with the two characters talking about the sky, plus, it was a nice surprise to read they wanted to know what was at the end of the sky and not the earth (I liked that bit!)

Although, I'll over look the fact that this is the bare beginnings of your novel, but some of the detail is telling. Ye-ah I'll let some slip but details such as, he was shy, I would have liked to have been shown through detail.

Other then that I would like to see where this is going.

3nodding

Hey everyone! I know absolutely no one will read this for months, but I finally got my first chapter on my computer! (don't ask)

Somewhere in the deep ocean lay a tiny island, unseen through the heavy mists surrounding it. It was a world of its own, including in its borders tall mountains, deep forests, sand-strewn shores, small villages and great cities. It was untroubled by warfare, partially from the thick mists, which ensured safety from all but those who ran their ships aground, much as the inhabitants’ ancestors had stumbled across the island. But mostly, war had never touched the island because of a gift of peace from heaven, or so the islanders believed. It was truly a hidden paradise; Ametris.
Serra Woods reached from the western to the eastern sides of the isle, a large mix of tall trees hiding those who lived in it from any unwelcome visitors, though the elves, who dwelled in its borders, were a cheery, fun-loving people who welcomed travelers with open arms. In the heart of the forest lay the elves’ largest city, Kocha, though by the other islanders’ standards it was no more than a village. The elves were undaunted by this criticism, as they had always preferred small towns over huge metropolises.
Hidden in the woods in Kocha, behind a small, neat schoolhouse, two elven children, a small boy and girl, sat with their backs to a large oak tree, very amused by their teacher’s efforts to find them. Professor Marli, who was in fact not much older than they, could be heard treading through the undergrowth, searching high and low.
“Kamilé! Everan!” she called, hints of both fury and desperation in her voice. Kamilé and Everan remained silent, striving to contain the laughter threatening to expose them, as Marli passed them by, heading deeper into the forest. Once she had gone, Kamilé deemed it safe to walk out of the tree’s shadow and onto the old dirt path.
Kamilé had long dark hair, pulled back in a braid down her back, and she wore a white pinafore over a green smock, the traditional schoolgirl outfit in Kocha. Her appearance struck as more impish than elven, for though pretty, as most elven girls tended to be, more than the average amount of mischievous delight danced in her large eyes, which were of a very light gray-blue, almost silver. She looked up and down the path, then, apparently satisfied, she beckoned to her companion, who joined her on the path.
Everan looked very similar to Kamilé, with the same dark hair and silvery eyes. However, the two were complete opposites. Everan was quiet and shy; in fact, not many could claim to have heard him say two full sentences at one time before. He was steady and reserved, while Kamilé was unpredictable and wild. And yet, despite these differences, the two were rarely seen apart. It was a perfect example of a friendship impossible to find twice in a lifetime; simply put, the two could not live without each other.
The two friends set off up the path, the opposite direction from which Marli had come from. They knew the path well, from many expeditions through the woods, both moon- and sunlit. They were confident that they would reach the schoolhouse before Marli.
And sure enough, the small schoolhouse appeared in a forest glade only a few minutes later. They ran to the back entrance, relieved to find it unlocked. They remembered to shut the door behind them before they turned to face the rest of the room.
“Where have you been?” demanded a voice from the front row of smooth wooden desks filling the room. All heads turned to watch the two take their seats by a window.
“Why, we’ve been here all the time, Syla, didn’t you see us?” asked Kamilé in mock surprise. Syla frowned, swinging her long fair hair huffily over her shoulder.
“Marli will be furious,” stated a small boy morosely from behind Everan. He shook his head.
“No she won’t,” Kamilé told him matter-of-factly. “We’ve been right here, the whole time, what is there to be mad about?”
She said it with a slightly testy tone, as if daring any one of them to tell Marli the truth. The statement went unchallenged.
The truth itself was simple; Kamilé and Everan had snuck off into the woods to eat lunch, as they usually did, but this time they had been late, and Marli had had to come look for them. The whole class was aware of this; it had happened many times before. Everyone fidgeted in their seats as they waited for their teacher to return. They were all anxious as to what she would say this time.
As it happened, they would all find out very soon precisely what Marli would say, as she came in herself through the front door that very minute. She seemed more resigned than angry now.
“I’m sorry I’m late, class,” she said, taking her place in the wooden chair behind the large desk at the front of the classroom. “I suppose we will just have to continue without Kamilé and Everan today.”
“But they’re here, Professor,” said Syla suddenly. The professor sat up straight, scanning the room until she spotted the two. Kamilé smiled inwardly. Thank you, Syla, she thought. This saved her from telling Marli herself. She arranged her features into a puzzled, innocent expression as Marli rounded on her.
“Kamilé and Everan, where have you two been? I’ve been searching in the woods for you both since the middle of break!”
“I don’t know what you mean, Professor,” said Kamilé in an innocent tone which fooled no one. “We were sitting outside eating lunch, and then we came inside and you were gone. We’ve been here ever since.”
This was partially true, but did not please Marli. “You two went wondering off, didn’t you, and now we’ve missed half of the class. And now you’re telling me you’ve been here the whole time?”
“Professor, they only just got--” began Syla, but Marli cut her off.
“Please raise your hand before speaking, Syla,” she said wearily. Syla thrust her hand in the air. However, Marli ignored her. She seemed to sense that every member of the class would tell her the truth she had already guessed, if she asked them. Perhaps she did not want to create a situation where the many were working against the few; many cases in the history she taught often ended badly that way. She began class without further delays.
“We’re running short on time, so let us begin.” She stood up and turned to write with a short charcoal stick on the slate board hung on the wall. “Today we’ll focus on the history of Ametris, and our role in it.” She wrote her words down as she spoke. “For more than three thousand years, our kind has lived in Serra Woods. Unlike the dwarves, who prefer vast cities with many statues and precious stones, or humans, who inhabit densely populated metropolises that are excellent centers for trade and commerce, we, that is to say, the elves, enjoy forest villages, usually building around or even inside trees when another race might cut it down. We hold more value in trees than precious stones, and in animals rather than currency. To the other races this seems ridiculous and foolish, but to us it is our way of life.
“Elves are most well-known for their ability to remain cheerful and friendly when others are moody or angry, and it is this that makes us the most beloved—and at the same time, most hated—race. Long ago, we faced everything from hostility to open warfare, simply because the other races were angry at our peace-loving nature. We refused to ally in wars, and advised against violence altogether. This angered the other races, mostly humans, who were often at war and in need of allies.
“Luckily, this ended when our ancestors came to Ametris Island three thousand years ago. Who can tell me why this ended our problems? Vesa?”
A tiny girl near the front put her hand down and said, “The deities that watch over Ametris placed a powerful spell upon it, dispelling both evil and good from its borders. This way, no wars would break out among its inhabitants. Ametris therefore became its own country, cut off from other lands by the thick mists surrounding it.”
Vesa sounded as if she had memorized the answer from a book, which she probably had. Marli was pleased.
“Very good. Now, no one is quite certain what deities guard Ametris, as every race inhabiting it has its own views. However, the spell cannot be denied; for three thousand years Ametris has remained trapped between good and evil forces, totally neutral. While this is a very good thing, especially for us elves, who have always tried to stay neutral, it has repercussions. Banning evil was a great gift, but good and evil always go hand in hand, so—“
“Professor?” The boy behind Everan had raised his hand.
“Yes, Kergan?”
“What do you mean, ‘good and evil go hand in hand’?”
Marli smiled. “It is one of the wisest sayings of the Ametrisans. If there is evil, there is a cause for good to exist. If there is only good, it can only search for evil. Do you see what I mean?”
Kergan shook his head. Marli turned back to the slate, dictating out loud the words she wrote.
“Imagine if there was a war. Obviously, there is an evil side and a good side. But the evil side is almost always the side which strikes first. Now, if an evil army came into Ametris and tried to take over, wouldn’t we rise up and protect our land? Of course. But what if we attacked another country? That country would defend themselves just as we would. That would make us the evil side, not them.”
Objections sounded from every corner of the room. This was one statement that the little elves would not let pass. Marli raised a hand for silence, and the protests faded away.
“I can see that you don’t like this kind of theory. No matter, it isn’t proven anyway. You may understand someday, after you have seen more of the world. We’ll move on for now. Who can tell me the four races of Ametris?”
Syla raised her hand. “The four Ametrisan races are the humans, the elves, the dwarves, and the merpeople.”
Marli nodded. “Good. Not much is known about the merpeople, as they live under the seas and lakes, but we know quite a bit about humans and dwarves. Humans live mostly around our capital, Merista, while the dwarves inhabit the Silveron Mountains. With the exception of merpeople, who cannot stray far from water, the other races are spread out among the island. If one was to search hard enough, one would find at least three human settlements in Serra, and one or two dwarven villages near the mines to the south. And likewise, elves are found all over Ametris. And all the three land-dwelling races are good friends with the merpeople. Many elves, humans and dwarves live by the lake and rivers on our island, and even more by the sea. This peaceful mix of the four races is also a result of the deities’ gift.”
“But what exactly did the deities give us, Professor?” asked Kamilé suddenly. “Did they set a spell over the island or over all the four races?” She had always been very curious about this.
Marli set the charcoal stick on her desk, walking around it to face the class. “A very good question, Kamilé. Not much is known about it, as none remain who lived here at the time, but I shall do my best to answer.
“Long ago, the four races lived in another land, with many other races too; centaurs, dragons, chimaeras, werewolves, fairies, demons, and many others. As you can guess, it was not always peaceful there.
“The country’s location is unknown, but what has been told to all the children of Ametris for three thousand years is an intriguing tale. The elves, humans, dwarves, fairies, and centaurs banded together, and set out from the country in a large fleet of ships to escape the evil races. The merpeople were to swim behind the ships. Only the dragons stayed in the country, as they were by far the most powerful creatures at that time. If they needed, they could fly after us and follow us to wherever we would end up. However, not many centaurs would leave their homeland, and the fairies were already dying out. Only the four races we have now ever thrived in Ametris. None know if the centaurs and fairies survived.
“When our ancestors reached this island, it was in the midst of chaos and destruction. Though over half of the peoples on the ships made it into Ametris, it was only on the wreckage of the fleet. The thick mists around Ametris did not allow the ships to harbor safely. Our ancestors found other inhabitants on Ametris, mostly humans but with a few elves and dwarves. This is the tale they told to our ancestors about the creation of Ametris.
“Well over seven thousand years ago, the first few humans found Ametris. Then there were no mists, and the island was fairly easy to reach. The humans dwelled for a long time on Ametris, and were soon followed by dwarves and elves. But soon, fighting broke out, and eventually it led to the greatest war in the history of the earth. It was hard to say what started it. The dwarves blame the humans, the humans blame the elves, and the elves blame the dwarves. But no matter what started it, the war soon became the bloodiest, longest, and most devastating war that could ever claim existence. In fact, the inhabitants of Ametris would have wiped themselves out to the last one, had there not been divine intervention.
“The ancient deities came down to cease the terrible war, and did their best to wipe away the devastation it had caused. They cast a spell around the entire island, forming the thick mists, which were the residue of the casting. This spell was directed to prevent evil from entering or remaining on the island. The mists prevented visitors from coming to Ametris, but the spell itself was what protected us. Each and every islander woke up with no recollection at all of their lives, and they were forced to start completely over. They began new lives, ones without evil tainting their hearts.
“However, there was a downside. Without evil, as I said before, there is no good either. But it was trivial then, as it is now, for there was no cause for good if there was no evil. And thus began the age of our neutrality, which has lasted all those thousands of years, until this very day.”
Silence followed Marli’s tale. Kamilé suspected that many had fallen asleep, but she could not agree with them; she was fascinated. “Professor, what about the deities? Can you tell us anything about them?”
Marli sat behind her desk, shaking her head. “No, Kamilé. It is not my duty to teach you our beliefs. Elves, if not Ametrisans altogether, are highly superstitious, and will believe in almost anything with the slightest proof. Telling all of you of these would be not only tedious but pointless as well. Besides, it is best for you to form your own beliefs. As the ideas of deities, gods, and goddesses are mere concepts, and were never successfully proven, I advise you to believe what you will about our world. Faith is not something I can drill into your head and make you memorize and recite.
“However, I will tell you one belief of all four races. After the war, it was said that in order to sustain peace, the deities set a special task upon one brave elf, who was a hero in the war, not for fighting but for saving his town from raids and sieges. It was his life’s work to keep evil away from Ametris. The deities could not maintain peace by themselves, as they did not live among us, or so we believe. This elf was called the first chosen, and it is said that he has been reincarnated many times into another elf, human, dwarf, or occasionally a merman or maid. There has always been at least one chosen in each generation for the last three thousand years. That’s more than three hundred chosen in the history of Ametris. It is they who have kept the island’s spell intact all these years.
“Each chosen has a special mark, but where or what it looks like, no one knows for sure. Each mark is different. Some are drawn in a book we hold in the library, but most were never seen, and the chosen went unnoticed until the next was born. Occasionally, there are two chosen born at once, though most were no relation to each other. In fact, for the first time in one hundred years there are two chosen again. But that is all I can tell you. It is time all of you went home for the day. Class dismissed.”
The room was instantly filled with loud scrapings and rustlings as the children hurried to pick up their belongings and dash out of the room. Kamilé waited for Everan by the back door, as she always did, but her mind was elsewhere. She found the tale of the Ametrisan War fascinating, but more so the story of the first chosen and the ones after him. She wished that Marli had told them more.
Everan came out of the door, and he and Kamilé set off on the path through the woods. Everan always walked slowly, and Kamilé matched his pace today, though she usually skipped ahead of him and waited by every other tree for him to catch up. As they walked, Kamilé pulled off her pinafore, preferring just the little green smock, and untied her hair from its tight braid. It fell loosely down to her waist, catching the sunlight falling onto the dappled ground. She had not worn shoes that day, so that was one less thing to carry. Luckily, Marli had not noticed.
The two did not talk much as they walked through the woods, though, to be fair, Everan hardly talked at all. Kamilé might have started a conversation, had she not been so preoccupied with the thoughts of the day.
Soon, they came across a tall, many-branched oak tree, a giant of the forest. A series of deep grooves, both naturally occurring and otherwise, were carved into the wood, about a foot apart. Kamilé led the way, climbing nimbly up the makeshift ladder. It ended abruptly as the branches became closer together, and it was easy to climb without assistance. Everan followed close behind. Halfway up the tree was a wooden platform with a hole in the floor, through which Kamilé and Everan entered. The leafy foliage was cleverly woven together on all four sides, and a solid roof was overhead, built long ago from a lightning-struck tree they had found, as had the rest of the treehouse. Kamilé and Everan had made this treehouse themselves, long ago. There was a large pile of spread-out blankets in one corner, a small wooden chair in another, and a smoothly broken nub of branch sticking from the floor, on which a firefly lantern had been placed. The fireflies were not hard to keep, as all they ate was a little honey and water every once in a while.
A few years ago, the two had been in the care of a traveler, who had fallen in love with Kocha and decided to stay. After Kamilé and Everan were born, she agreed to take care of them. However, when they were still fairly young, she left Kocha to travel again. After that, a few of the villagers offered to care for them, but they decided on their own to live in the forest. It may have been a wild, faerie-tale fancy at the time, but they had made it work. On cold days, they spent the night at one of Kocha’s inns. The owner of the inn always had a room open for them.
Kamilé looked out through a gap in the woven tree limbs. All she could see was more foliage and the occasional robin or squirrel, but it was nice to have a window anyway. She almost jumped as she felt something tug at her. Not at her body, but at her mind.
It’s not even midafternoon yet.
Everan and Kamilé had discovered long ago that they could speak to each other without using words. They thought nothing of it, assuming rather naively that everyone could. It was easy for them, simply reaching out subconsciously and touching another mind nearby. They had tried it with other people, of course, but none answered back. In fact, it was hard to tell if they even sensed any outside interference. Kamilé and Everan both could reach into someone’s mind and extract feelings, intentions, and sometimes clear images. The two could hold a conversation by sending images through telepathy, which their brains translated into words for them. All in all, it was quite amazing, but neither realized this.
Kamilé looked up through the window and saw the sun hovering a little way after its zenith.
You’re right. Professor Marli must have let us out early, she replied.
Do you want to go into town?
I don’t see why not. Besides, I want to get something from the library.
Really? What?
The professor mentioned a book about the chosen. I’m curious.
Are you ever not? Everan joked. Well, we’ll be passing right by there, so we can pick it up on the way. And I’m curious too.
Well, if we’re both so curious, then why are we still here? Come on! Kamilé led the way to the hole in the floor and leapt nimbly from limb until she reached the ground. Everan followed behind her, though at his own pace. They set off south down the path, towards the schoolhouse, which was situated on the northern edge of Kocha. This particular path led straight into the town square.
As they passed the schoolhouse, they heard something inside. Kamilé crouched underneath the window, beckoning for Everan to do the same. Marli was still inside, wiping the slate board with a wet cloth and singing quietly. She had a very pretty voice.

“Together we’ll stand, forever more,
On the sands of the distant faraway shore,
And listen, my love, to the songs of the sea,
The waves and the birds rejoicing eternally…”

I never knew that Professor Marli could sing so well, Kamilé noted with deep admiration.
She isn’t much older than us, is she? observed Everan. This took Kamilé by surprise, as she had never thought about it before. To her, Marli was someone who showed up out of nowhere to teach and then disappeared until the next day. Now that she thought about it, Marli could not be older than fifteen or so. It must be hard to teach a class full of children only a few years younger than you, she thought.
Everan caught the thought. And to think, we are all old enough to be good friends with her, yet we call her Professor. She must be lonely. Kamilé agreed.
Come on, let’s go before she sees us. The two set off down the path once more, leaving the schoolhouse with a new perspective on their teacher.
The air felt as if it had just rained, fresh and clean and clear. The smell of grass and leaves was vaguely noticeable around the heady scent of summer flowers. Summertime was when everything came alive, when the world rejoiced and everything under the sun was happy to be alive. Kamilé and Everan savored the sight of the forest in summertime, their eyes taking in the newly budding wildflowers beside the path, the new bark on the trees, the bright green leaves on the bushes. Kocha was a sight to see that day.
Eventually the trees thinned out, and the path took them into an enormous clearing, lined with wooden houses, shops, and stalls. This was the center of Kocha. The city went on for almost a league from any entrance to the square, but the houses and occasional shops were so cleverly built that it was hard to know where the city stopped and the forest began.
The town square belied the fact that Kocha was the largest city in Serra Woods. It had the feel of a very small town, everyone greeting everyone else as they passed, and the trees grew unchecked right up to the borders of the square. Humans were often seen in Kocha, but dwarves were rare. While the humans came to see the elves’ greatest city, the dwarves only came on business. They were all in all a solitary sort of race, preferring the company of themselves over any others.
The library was built straight into a group of redwoods, twisted together and hollowed by some force of nature. The elves very rarely hollowed out trees themselves, or cut them down for any reason. The library was three floors high, a staircase carved into the living tree. Luckily, trees grew outward, not inward. Shelves upon shelves upon shelves lined the walls, each filled to bursting with books of all sizes and subjects. It was hard to find an order among the randomly stacked piles of books, though there was some kind of organization. Kamilé and Everan walked up to the large desk, catching the attention of the librarian, Kayle. Kayle was a young man who was always ceaselessly reading something or other. His brown eyes always had a vacant look behind his long black hair, and he was very scatterbrained, though despite this could find any book you cared to name. Kayle looked up at them with interest, setting aside his book.
“Hello, Kamilé. Hello, Everan. Did you need something?” he asked solicitously. Kamilé nodded.
“Do you have something on the history of Ametris?” she inquired. His eyes lit up behind thin crystal glasses. He stood up, gesturing for them to follow him up the stairs. He went to a shelf on the second floor, scanning it for the right title.
“Ah, here it is!” he proclaimed triumphantly. He set off, back down the stairs, not giving the two the small, thick tome until he was behind the desk once more.
“Here we are, A History of Ametris, by Vane, daughter of Ilean. the complete history of our island and the country we inhabited before that. A lot of pictures if you get bored, and very accurate, as far as anyone can tell. This is a gem of a book, believe me. Why so interested?” Kayle was ecstatic, apparently, at finding the book.
“Professor Marli was telling us the story today, and we wanted to know more,” Kamilé replied, tucking the book into her smock’s deep pocket. Kayle was intrigued.
“How much did she tell you?” He seemed to be curious about how much Marli knew.
“Everything from when the four races left that country to now.”
Kayle was disappointed. “Not very much at all, really. This book right here will tell you the history of the country we lived on before Ametris, as well as details and first-hand accounts about the Ametrisan War, which lasted about a thousand years, if you’re interested. Half the book is devoted to just that. Well, I hope you enjoy it. Bring it back whenever.” He didn’t seem concerned about when it was due, only caring if they were truly interested or not.
“Thanks, Kayle. Oh, by the way, do you have something about the chosen? Professor Marli mentioned a book like that.”
“Oh, did she?” Kayle seemed suddenly anxious. “Well,” he said, choosing the words carefully, “we did have a book once, but it’s checked out. Been that way for a few weeks. Sorry, I can’t help you.” Kamilé noticed that as he talked he slowly swept something off his desk and onto his chair.
“That’s too bad.” Kamilé knew that he had made the whole thing up, but did not press the point. “Well, thank you for this book. We’ll bring it back soon.”
“Have fun reading that one,” Kayle said, his eagerness returning. “Goodbye, you two!”
Kamilé looked back and saw him grab a stack of books to put on the shelves. Then the door closed. She immediately sent a thought to Everan. He’s lying. Wait here for me, will you?
What are you going to do?
Just wait and see.
She opened the door quietly and came in, careful to make as little noise as possible. Kayle was on the second floor by now. He would never see her. She circled his desk and snatched the book on his chair. She made sure to check the cover. The Chosen Revived, it read. She decided on the spur of the moment to leave the seat empty. It would be kinder to Kayle to let him know she took it, rather than replace it with his other book and have him search for it for hours before declaring it lost. She shut the door without a sound and showed the book to Everan.
What did you want it for, Kami? he asked.
I want to read it. I did tell you I was curious. And besides, why did he want to hide it from us?
Maybe we shouldn’t.
Maybe we should.
Fine. Anyway, I want to read it too. Where do you want to go now?
Kamilé took A History of Ametris from him, giving him the other book. I guess back home, I want to read this.
Okay. Everan shrugged, opening the book in his hands and reading as they walked up the path again.
It didn’t take very long for Kamilé to grow annoyed with the book. She shut it a little more forcefully than was necessary, handing it back to Everan. You read it, she suggested. I can’t concentrate.
Everan hid a smile, complying.
“The country of Ametris is a small island in the middle of the ocean, with a mountain range to the north and deep forest to the south. It was found by a group of humans, led by a man named Cyrus, who, it is said, was fleeing a tyrannical dictator in his native country. Under his leadership the humans thrived in Ametris, soon joined by elves and eventually dwarves. However, the island did not come to its own and gain its proper titles and notoriety until after the Great War.
“For three thousand years, Ametris was peaceful enough, escaping notice from its neighboring countries and remaining neutral in everything from disputes to wars. The humans, elves, and dwarves lived in harmony together, though eventually separating according to their habitual environmental choices; the elves living in the forests, the dwarves residing in the mountains, and the humans keeping to the plains between these. The three races were civil to one another for the most part, though occasionally disputes broke out, soon stifled, and a rift began to grow between the elves and the dwarves.
“Though none can be sure, it is believed that the cause of the war rests with a man named Aven, who arrived on Ametris around 2980 A.T. (Ametrisan Time, referring to the year Cyrus landed as 1 A.T.). Aven immediately upon arriving started to cause disunity among the islanders, and eventually persuaded a group of humans from the village of Leigh, located on the edge of Lake Astriem, to rebel against the governor of the town. They succeeded, and when the inhabitants of Merista saw how well it worked, they wanted to reform their own government. Merista split into two parties, one for reforming and one against.
“The dwarves soon joined as it grew more serious, threatening to tear the city in half, and they unified with the side seeking to keep things the way they were. Once the elves heard of this, they instantly joined the other side. And though all-out war would stay suppressed for a while longer, it was inevitable that fighting would break out.
“And break out it did. A debate between the two parties grew violent, and the war at last begun as the two sides fought. This would soon evolve into the longest and bloodiest war of all time, lasting one thousand years and killing over one million Ametrisans.”
Everan looked up from the book. That’s an impressive figure, for a war.
You’re right about that. One million! No wonder the deities had to step in.
Here, you take it, Everan said, handing the book back to her. I want to see the other one.
Without further delay, he opened the other book and began to read. Kamilé listened for a while, but soon she lost focus, letting the words wash over her without taking them in. When they reached the base of the oak tree, in whose branches lay their treehouse, they passed it. Neither really wanted to go home. Everan, without once looking up from the book, chose a shady tree and sat beneath it. Kamilé followed, leaning against the trunk and enjoying the sunshine.
Hm…this is interesting, Everan commented, his eyes widening. He had flipped to the back of the book and was reading a page, amazement evident in every move he made.
What is? Kamilé leaned over, trying to read over his shoulder.
It’s…she could tell he was having some sort of inner turmoil, but he was careful to block her out of most of it, a feat she could never accomplish. It’s nothing. Everan shut the book decisively. Let’s go home.
By now it was sunset, and growing colder by the minute, but Kamilé was not so eager to return home, not when something was being kept from her. If there’s one thing she hated, it was secrets. Everan…she began.
Come on. Everan took off, clearly avoiding the subject. Kamilé had no choice but to follow him, more than a little annoyed.
Why is it that I can’t hide things, but he can? Kamilé asked of no one in particular, not caring if Everan was within hearing distance or not. But the night air soon cooled her anger, and it was with her usual cheer that she wished Everan good night, though she still wished she had an answer to her question, and tried to find the answer even after Everan had fallen asleep. What makes us so different, anyway?

In a tall castle, leagues away from Kocha, night had fallen over the city. The castle was dark and cold, and not a soul could be seen. A few were inside, sitting tensely in the mess hall; three lieutenants and a pair of guards. They were unnaturally quiet, not saying a word or making a move, nothing to break the stillness that had settled over them. The queen was in one of her moods again; she had locked herself in her tower in an extremely bad temper. No one had followed her. Annoy the queen when she was like that, and you would disappear off the face of the earth. If you were lucky.
Truthfully, this didn’t happen often. Most of the time, she was good-natured, with a sense of humor. One didn’t see that often in the monarchy. If monarchy was the right term to use. Usually, the son or daughter of the king and queen took their place when the royals died or stepped down. But if not, someone else would take the throne. This often required both patience and royal blood. The queen had very little of either.
Lieutenant Hartel glanced at the clock on the wall. It was late, almost midnight. She couldn’t take the silence any more. “What’s going on up there?” she whispered to her companions. They shot her a warning glance, a silent plea to keep her voice down.
“Another one of her experiments,” a lieutenant muttered, barely audible over the ticking of the clock.
“Why are we here, then?” she asked quietly, frowning in annoyance.
“Bad luck,” a guard answered.
It was indeed bad luck for the two guards that it was on their shift the queen decided to go berserk. Their general had given them orders to patrol the corridors and keep an eye out for intruders. The queen had commanded everyone in the castle to stay out of her way or else, and no one doubted that her threats were not empty. The general was scary enough, but the queen was several ranks above him and had the power of the throne behind her. So since the mess hall was as far out of her way as possible, they fled there and bolted themselves in. For more hours than they cared to count, the guards had stayed in the mess with the three lieutenants, who didn’t know why they were there at all. Silence fell over them again as they watched the clock, the only movement in the room.
In the north tower, the queen was poring over a sheaf of parchment, oblivious to the steam hovering under the ceiling in the hot, windowless room. Beakers of nameless concoctions bubbled over burners, adding to the cloud of steam. Thin, parchment-bound books sat on a shelf, unlabeled, the notes of other successful and failed experiments of the past. Several similar books were stacked on the table, on which rested the parchment the queen was now scribbling on. Notes of the experiment. On the other side of the table were a large hourglass, a few other simmering beakers, and a thick book, open to show a page written in old-fashioned, hardly legible handwriting. As she wrote, she glanced at it, pushing long black hair behind her ears. It had small pictures along the margins, detailed illustrations of a tiny person casting a complicated spell.
The queen stopped writing, wiping the ink from her quill with the hem of her plain black dress and screwing the stopper onto the ink bottle. Then she turned to the space between her notes and the spell book, where a thin wooden wand lay on the table. She picked it up, feeling the smooth pine under her fingers. Her grandfather’s wand, the last of the sorcerers. He was the one who had showed her magic, and now she was going to follow in his footsteps, succeed where he had failed in the greatest attempt in sorcery ever made.
She closed her eyes, muttering something in another language. The magic gathered in her palm, rolling down her fingers and disappearing into the wand. She felt the wood grow hot under her fingers, the power growing. She held her breath, waiting.
A breeze that came from nowhere flicked the hem of her gown, starting up a mournful wail. The howling of the wind rose over the sound of boiling potions, turning the pages of the spell book and sending her notes flying around the room. The lantern hanging by the door flickered and died. She could feel the earth sway beneath her, could hear the wind pick up speed. The hourglass in front of her slid to the floor, spilling glass shards and sand over her boots. She didn’t even hear the crash as the air whistled in her ears.
This is it, she thought. A shiver of excitement ran up her spine…only to be quelled by a jolt of fear running back down it. Something was wrong. She knew by instinct that something, though she didn’t know what, had gone awry. The wind was too fast, too fierce and strong, the earth was rolling like waves in the sea during a storm, and the wand in her hand was shaking too, shivering like a frightened animal and growing hotter by the second. She felt her skin start to burn, but her fingers, clenched tightly around the wood, would not let it go.
A bright white light burned through her eyelids, the ground rocked beneath her, and the wind intensified to a moaning wail. The wand grew hotter and hotter, until it shattered in her hand, filling her fingers with splinters. Then she screamed in pain as her soul was ripped in two.
Downstairs, ion the mess hall, five soldiers jumped. They sat in frozen, wide-eyed silence for all of five minutes, fixing each other with petrified stares. Hartel looked uneasily from one scared face to the next. “What was that?” she said in a whisper, breaking the sinister silence. Her four companions shrugged and shook their heads.
“Anyone want to go see?”
The men looked at each other. No one wanted to.
“Fine, I’ll go,” Hartel snapped, and despite her shaking limbs, she swung her legs lithely over the bench and reached for the door handle.
Before her hand touched the metal, the handle turned, and the door opened. The queen swept past Hartel, who stepped out of the way and bowed.
“Your Majesty, are you all right?” she asked respectfully. The sorceress thought about it. She was, indeed, intact, and apart from the splinters in her hand, she felt fine. She must have merely imagined the feeling of being torn apart. She inspected her right hand carefully. Heal, she thought. The shards of wood flew out of her fingers and clattered onto the floor, leaving her skin unblemished.
“I’m fine,” she replied, truthfully enough. She took a seat on the long wooden bench. The others rose and bowed hastily, almost falling over themselves. She gestured them to sit again with a wave.
Outside, on the other side of the large windows, the lights of the city glowed through the darkness. The city looked very much like Merista, Ametris’s capital. But it wasn’t.
“The experiment failed,” she told her subjects without looking at them. “My last conductor is useless, not to mention my other tools and my laboratory. It will be a long time before I can try again.”
The soldiers held their breath to stop themselves sighing with relief. No more of the queen’s mad tempers and impossible experiments for a while. The unease and fear in the air disintegrated. The queen looked fine, and she was in a good mood. Now that she was back to normal, more important things could be called to the attention of the commander-in-chief of the army.
But she wasn’t back to normal. Even she didn’t realize it, but the wand and the hourglass were not all that was broken. Like the city outside the window, things were not always what they seemed.

When the sun dawned the next morning, it shed light over the most beautiful day the summer had unfolded, promising even more to come. The birds arose from their nests and saw the day, spreading their wings and chirping excitedly to announce the golden morning. It was this noise that wakened Kamilé, who was a light sleeper, and it was also this noise that made her wish she had a window to shut, just for a few minutes’ peace from the ceaseless chirping.
There must be hundreds of birds out there to make so much noise, she thought.
It’s summer. They’re always like that, came the unexpected reply. Everan had also woken up.
Sorry, Ev, I didn’t mean to wake you up, Kamilé apologized.
It wasn’t you, it was the birds. Do you want to go to the midsummer feast today?
Do I! We’ve never missed it before. But it’s not the midsummer feast, is it? It’s the other thing, oh, what was it?
The unity celebration? It’s being held in Kocha this year.
Good, that means we can go!
I’ve never been, but Marli told us about it last year after she went to the dwarf city.
She did? Was I there?
Yes you were, but you were probably asleep.
Oh.
She’ll probably tell us about it again before the celebration.
Good, I want to hear it.
So do I, I can hardly remember what she told us last year.
Do we have school today?
No, it’s the weekend.
Oh, okay. Then what’ll we do today?
I say we go look around in the woods.
Why? What’s there?
Trees, I suppose.
All right, fine. Forest it is. Kamilé busied herself by dressing and pulling back her hair while Everan searched for his shoes.
I’m ready when you are, Everan informed her, having found them and pulled them on.
So am I.
Kamilé leapt lightly from the large limb in front of the door, climbing down with the sureness and agility of a squirrel. Everan contented himself with maintaining a slow pace, and jumped down onto the ground without a scratch on him, unlike Kamilé, who had already snagged her sleeve against a branch. Both headed south to Kocha, as they had done the day before. However, today the schoolhouse was empty.
They had intended to pass right through Kocha, but as they approached the center of the town they ran across Elder Carn, a tall, white-haired man who was one of the six elders that governed the town. Kamilé delivered a short bow, though Everan remained standing. He was not one to notice authority of any kind. It was not disrespect, and the elder knew this and was not offended.
“Elder, when is the unity celebration?” Kamilé asked him. He rubbed his chin as he thought over the answer.
“Now that I think on it, it is held about a week from now, miss. You are going, I trust?”
“Yes, sir, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Good, good,” he said, nodding empathetically. “’Tis a very educating experience. Is that all you needed, Kamilé?”
“Yes sir, thank you very much.”
Carn smiled. “No trouble, miss. Now, run along and play.”
He walked off stiffly, with all the dignity fitting his title. I hate it when they say that, Kamilé told Everan.
They’re adults, that’s what they do.
I suppose. Let’s go.
Kocha’s other side was not as thickly forested, as this side of Serra Woods was closer to the ocean. Both had been this way before, but never so far as to see the water. They had never strayed that far, as it would be easy to become lost, especially because one grain of sand looks like another on the shore. From the edge of Kocha, the tang of sea air was barely perceptible, but it was there, carried by a breeze from the south. Kamilé and Everan walked slowly through the forest, reveling in the glorious summer day. The birds had not decreased in volume or multitude since the morning had begun, but this time the two could see why.
The forest was alive and thriving, the feeling of growth tangible in the air, and the two children felt as if they were growing too. The scent of pine needles, fresh grass, ripening fruit, and wildflowers was so heavy and rich on the air that it seemed to be a song in their ears, the wood’s song of summer. Joy seeped from every tree as noticeably as sap and resin, and the grass beneath their feet seeped to be lifting them up, lest they trod on a dry twig and break the spell. And over it all hung the fresh, tart, revitalizing smell of the ocean breeze.
Had anyone in Kocha checked the date, they would have known that it was midsummer. Kamilé and Everan felt it in their hearts, true children of the woods, as they walked through the forest, the sounds of Serra Woods telling them as surely as any calendar. Never had there been a more perfect day.