Prologue
Some disasters do not begin with battles, but in a marketplace. With an apple.
After a long journey, Naira found herself in a village so small and insignificant that it did not even appear on most maps. She only wanted to restock her supplies before continuing on her way. Instead, everything changed.
Because of an apple.
She had already bought everything she needed and spent far too much time talking to the locals. Just as she was about to leave the square, she spotted it. Perfect. Red. Juicy. An apple.
Without a second thought, she bought it and took a satisfied bite as she turned toward the road. Then someone grabbed her arm.
She spun around, still chewing.
A hooded figure stood before her. Or rather, a pair of eyes beneath a black hood and face covering.
“Hmmpf.”
That was about the only sound Naira managed before a sealed letter was pressed into her hand.
The stranger vanished.
She swallowed, took another bite of her apple, tucked it between her teeth and broke the seal. A terrible mistake. In more ways than one.
A burning surge of magic shot through her body and sent her crashing to her knees. She bit down on the apple, choked, and for one very embarrassing moment came dangerously close to dying.
That was the first time death almost claimed her.
Naturally, she still managed to catch the apple before it hit the ground. Pain or no pain, wasting perfectly good fruit simply was not an option.
The second time she nearly died came only moments later. She pulled off her glove to inspect the source of the burning pain.
A magical mark had appeared on her arm.
Bright red. Blazing hot. Swollen beyond recognition.
There was no way to tell what shape it was supposed to have.
Magic marks were nothing unusual in Elyndor. Nor were they inherently dangerous. But when one appeared without a known cause, without a recognizable pattern and without anyone knowing its purpose…
…those marks had an unfortunate habit of ending with, well…
…the owner’s permanent disappearance, followed by the discovery of a lifeless body several moons later.
Not every prologue has to begin with blood and death, does it?
Naira, however, knew she had landed herself in a spectacular mess. She cast a simple frost spell around the mark, hoping to cool the burning skin.
It did absolutely nothing.
The mark remained every bit as mysterious… and every bit as dangerous.
“The letter. The mark appeared the moment I broke the seal. Maybe the letter explains what’s happening. But where is it?” Naira thought while she was still sitting in the middle of the marketplace.
Not the brightest idea, especially when people were pushing through the crowd as though someone were handing out free gold.
But then again…
Who am I to question Naira’s decisions?
I merely tell the stories.
The pain had come so suddenly that Naira was fairly certain she had dropped the letter. So she searched the ground.
Sure enough, a few yards away it lay between countless boots and hurried footsteps.
She could have stood up. She could have summoned the letter with a simple gust of wind. Instead, for reasons known only to herself, she decided to crawl through the crowd like a toddler.
“Excuse me. Sorry. May I just… squeeze through?”
No one noticed.
At least Naira remained polite.
She was only nearly trampled to death seven times, and she reached the letter. For Naira, that already counted as a victory.
Did she take it somewhere quiet before reading it?
Of course not.
She sat down exactly where she was, picked up her apple again, took another bite and began reading, completely ignoring the people walking around her.
Go to Thalorien.
Find the Hanged Elf.
There you will find answers.
Or die.
Your choice.
Naira choked on her apple again.
“Wonderful. What an excellent set of options. Do I at least get to choose how I die? No? Well… thank you for keeping me informed.”
She coughed, thumped herself on the chest and took a deep breath before continuing the conversation with herself.
“This can only end terribly. Fine. I’ll visit this Hanged Elf and see what happens. If it doesn’t work, I’ll die anyway, so I don’t really have anything to lose. Except, you know… my LIFE.
How does this keep happening to me?
My family is going to love this. The princess comes to visit and brings everyone a deadly curse. How thoughtful of me.”
Still muttering to herself, Naira rose to her feet and left the marketplace. She took the road leading toward Elyndor’s capital.
Toward Thalorien.
Naira was not the sort of elf who gave up, so she continued to mumble to herself, trying to work out how to survive this whole disaster. Preferably without losing her head.
Or being eaten.
“Miriana! I should visit my sister first. She actually works with magic marks in her spy order. She knows this kind of stuff. And while I’m already there, I should probably visit Lucryss as well. I’d like to see how my brother is doing as Crown Prince. I wonder if he’s still with his court mage. I certainly hope so. Those two are adorable together.
…When was the last time I actually visited anyone?
You know what?
I’d rather not think about that.”
She stopped for a moment and looked up at the sky. Then she reached into her bag, pulled out another apple and took a thoughtful bite.
After a few more miles, Naira stopped once again. She tossed the apple core into a nearby meadow, planted her hands firmly on her hips and nodded to herself.
“This will be fine. Visit the Hanged Elf. Meet Miriana and Lucryss. Get rid of the magic mark. Don’t die.”
She smiled with forced determination.
“That sounds perfectly manageable.”
The confidence lasted all of three seconds.
“It is never that simple,” she muttered with a sigh. “It always turns into a complete disaster.”
Deep down, however, she knew she had no choice.
So she kept walking.
Or rather…
…she shuffled along with just enough determination to convince herself she was making progress.
It also happened to be an excellent way to wear out a perfectly good pair of boots.
Several days…
…and several apples later…
…she finally stood before a door.
She rested her hand on the handle.
Turned it.
And, without realizing it, dragged a remarkable number of people into a story none of them had asked to be part of.
The important thing, however, was this:
She walked into my tavern.
That was the day I met Naira Hawke.
And the day our journey began.
Even though I am, frankly…
…far too old for this kind of nonsense.
I, Raven Morrigan Hawke, create Elyndor, a world full of hidden paths, whispering forests, and ancient secrets. Every illustration and story draws you deeper—toward brave adventurers, glowing crystals, and places where light and shadow dance together. Join me on the journey through this poetic fantasy world and discover what waits behind every hill, every tree, and every artifact.