Creative Writing Contest Winner: September

This month, Monica won! Unfortunately, she was the only entrant, but her story is amazing!

The Silver Sword

Isenill Goldenarrows stood on the bank of the river that all Elves called "Elan". In the language of Men it meant "Swift". And they had good reason to call it so. In the lowest moments of the river it could easily tire a strong swimmer. But when in flood, as it was then, it was an impassable barrier of raging, rushing water that stopped for nothing and no one.
    But even this barrier was no comfort to the heart of the Elf-girl who stood so perilously close to the river. For the city, her city, was in danger--from the inside.
    Last harvest-time, an enemy in disguise had somehow gotten through border patrol and was causing discontent among the Elves. No one knew who this enemy was, but a proclamation had come from the king that whoever discovered this traitor, even to the point of killing him, would receive a handsome reward.
    Isenill scowled. She didn't want to kill anyone, but as an Elf she was fiercely loyal to her king. And she was going to do whatever it took to rid the Elf-City, Illiwynn, of this traitor.
    "Isenill!" a voice called her. Sighing, she turned to the woods. "A friend comes," the voice called again. That was the typical greeting. Anyone who didn't say this was regarded as a stranger and stood a pretty good chance of getting shot.
    A young Elf burst out of the woods and almost fell down the riverbank. 
    Isenill smiled. It was Avior Hawkfeathers, privately known as "The Heedless One".
    "Greetings," he gasped, breathless.
    "The same. What news?" she replied.
    "Nothing important. Jixor wanted me to tell you he said hello." He paused, then added, "Actually there is something important. I think I know who the traitor is."
    Isenill sucked in a breath. This was serious.
    "I think--" Avior stopped, looked around, came closer, and said, "--it's Zor."
    Isenill was shocked. Zor was her archery practice companion and he was more loyal than anyone she knew.
    "It's a lie!" she shouted. "I don't believe you--and I won't!"
    "But Isenill, think about it. He doesn't have any relatives here. He has an accent. He looks different from everyone else. He has trouble with our language--all the marks of a foreigner. Isenill, face it. There can be no other!"
    For one terrifying moment the Elf-girl swayed in indecision. Then she fell back on something that had never failed her before.
    "Well, when you legitimately prove it, then and only then will I believe it." She produced a silver whistle and blew it, sounding a high-pitched shriek. An ivory-colored, winged unicorn flew out of the sky and landed beside her. She jumped up on it and looked down on a frowning Avior. "Don't spread lies, Avior. No one ultimately believes them!"
    The unicorn sprang into the sky, gaining height and speed with each beat of its powerful wings. But from below came a faint shout.
    "I never lied to you before, Isenill Goldenarrows!"

~~~~

    In spite of Isenill's denial of who Avior thought the traitor was, a tiny speck of doubt was growing in her mind. By the time she had another archery practice day with Zor, she was almost fully convinced. And indeed, his first words to her only served to assure her of it.

    "Isenill, you'd like to be a queen, wouldn't you?"

    She froze.

    "What do you mean? A queen of what?"

    "Of a kingdom, of course. Maybe even of Illiwynn."

    Forcing down her panic and trying to make her voice sound normal, she replied,

    "Oh--me? That's nonsense, I couldn't. Besides, Illiwynn already has a queen. And a king, for that matter."

    "But you wouldn't have to wait. You could be queen now, if you wanted."

    "What do you mean?" Her voice rose. "I can't! Me, an Elf-girl, against the king and all of Illiwynn?"

    "You'd have me to help you."

    "ZOR!" she screamed. "You ARE the traitor!"

    She turned and started to run. Something struck her cheek like a whip of fire and an arrow buried itself in the tree ahead of her. Blood trickled down her cheek and she realized with a shock that Zor had just tried to kill her. She screamed, 

    "Someone, help!" 

    No one answered, though, and she had to fend for herself. 

    "Traitor!" she shrieked. "You won't get away with this!" She swung around and aimed her arrow at him. But before she could let it fly a familiar figure dropped out of the tree onto Zor, knocking him down. 

    "Isenill, run for help! Hurry!" It was Avior!

    Go--and leave him here alone to struggle with a dangerous traitor? Never! She threw her bow down and reached across to her left side. There hung her short sword, wrought of silver and steel, given to her by the Sword Master nine years ago when she was seven. 

    "I'll never leave you, Avior!" she screamed passionately, drawing her sword. 

    Avior had mamaged to get Zor into a sitting position, but he wasn't giving in, even though his arms were twisted behind him. He was wriggling furiously, but Avior held on bravely. Both stopped fighting when they saw Isenill in front of them, glittering sword in hand.

    "Stand up." Her voice was low and deadly. They obeyed at once, but Avior held tight to Zor's arms. 

    "Tie him--tight and hard," was Isenill's next command. It was also obeyed. Zor leaned against a tree, gasping.

    She wiped the blood from her cheek, stepped closer, and placed the sword against his neck

    "Don't. Move," she hissed.

    He didn't. Indeed, Zor was eyeing the sword fearfully and trying to beg for mercy.

    "Please--no! Mercy--" he gasped. 

    "Mercy?' she repeated. "Why should I show you mercy when you have not showed mercy to the Elves of Illiwynn? I am loyal to the king, and he will be king for as long as he lives. If I kill you now, it's only good riddance."

    "No--please!"

    That is up to the king." She sheathed her sword. 

     Suddenly her unicorn flew into the clearing, leading a host of armed Elves on their own unicorns. In a short matter of time they had the struggling Zor more completely bound, and they took him away.

     Now that it was all over, Isenill burst into tears. Avior patted her shoulder awkwardly, then hugged her. She cried against his shoulder for a while, then backed off, trying to laugh. 

    "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm being silly."

    He made no response, only looked at her bleeding face.

    "I'm sorry for not believing you," she continued. "You were right all along and I was not. I was just stubborn and foolish. Can you ever forgive me?"

    Avior smiled gently. He took off his hood, stepped closer, and carefully wiped the blood and tears off her cheeks. Then he leaned over and kissed the wound, not caring that he got blood on his own face. 

    Isenill blushed.

    "What was that for?"

    "You said you'd never leave me," he said, smiling at her.

    "Well--I didn't--I mean..." Then she smiled shyly. "I meant in battle."

    "Life is a battle. So I ask you now. Will you stand by me in all my battles, and will you allow me to stand by you in all of yours?"

    "Yes--yes!" she cried. "I will stand by you forever and always! We'll battle side by side for all our lives."

    They were married the next day, and they lived happily forever after. ('Cause Elves are immortal, ya know)

THE END

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