+The wait+

[ASHA~CROAL~XYLECK]

A soft sigh, drooping eyes, a single soul. The only one...the only elf.

Head tipped upwards...someone was there...he could feel it deep within him. His large hand gripped his sheathed sword, but moved to his bow and arrows instead. Ebon beads searched endlessly in the dark forest, nothing but silence and the mournful cry of the wind.

Locks brushed over his shoulders, twisting with itself, tangled in the wind's waves. Tassles blew to the side, pointed auds revealed. Showing the intruder he was no simple being.

He stood up upon his small, silent feet. He was clad in a clout and some kind of moccasins. A satchel was attached to his clout on the side. He smiled at himself...no ne was here...why would anyone come to the elven lands when there were no other elves but him?! He was being overly "lonesome". His body was so yearning, that he felt things and sensed things that were not there. He wandered over to the large tree, eyeing it crtically.

The tree gave him an idea. This was the palace lands...yet there was no palace to reside here.

He pat the tree, then wandered into the woods, finding other enormous timbers to bring back to the large clearing.

When he returned, he carried and dragged three trees, twice as round as him, four times as tall as him. He set them to the side, taking out an ax to start making plank after plank.

Light faded, yet the sounds of chapping wood rung in the air. Darker and darker, until no light reached him, he worked. He had gotten one high, wide wall up. A measly portion of the palace, but a good start, considering he was the only one. He would wait until dusk to start once more...when the light gave a small sillohette...just enough to see, would he work. But until then, he slept.

[ASHA~CROAL~XYLECK]

Light spilled into the forest, the elf had been working before the sun could be seen. Droplets of sweat beaded on his forhead, his arms popping with veins...yet he kept going at an even rate, pacing himself.

The noon brids sang joyously over the singing crickets and cicadas. He had worked hard, never stopping to rest. Three large walls stuck in the ground, pointing straight up to the heavens. The sun was exactly above him, bearing relentlessly down upon his bare skin.

He stopped for a moment, breathing heavy, he walked to the shade of the great tree. He looked up, seeing the leaves were blue. He picked one, smelling it. It seemed good. He ripped it open, the juices within were bright pink. He smiled. It was a tree his mother had. She would rub the juices on his skin so he would not burn.

He smiled as he squirted juices all over his body, the smell wasn't the best, but knowing he would be in the best shape for whatever would come was good.

As a few moments passed, and he had eaten and drank, he went back to work. Hour after hour, never stopping, or pausing. Work had to be done.

When the sun dipped low behind the trees once more, and there was hardly any light to see, he stopped to look at what he had built. Six walls made the outside, the inside had a few rooms. He had made doors and holes for the windows. He had constructed part of the roof. The man smiled at what he had done, the hard work he had put into. No one would make a palace like this one.



As light touched the walls, he finished the roof. All the while he wondered to himself what the queen would be like. Tall, of course, like me. Smart, brave. A hard worker...someone who is not spiteful...yet not godly. He thought of what she would look like, but decided that looks could be decieving...that was when he remebered his old stallion.

He was a big draft, huge and strong. He was the only horse to eat meat, gaurd Xyleck. The only horse that was golden hued, clean and shimmering. Soft and smooth. But he was mean to those who he did not know, horrible to lights. He smiled as the memories flooded his head, but shrugged them away...he was becoming distracted.

Finally, aftert a week or two, the palace skeleton was finished. Xyleck wandered to the mountains, a sled dragged behind him. He filled the wagon with large boulders, and small pebbles, and every size of rock inbetween. He pulled it back to the clearing, dumping the rocks, then going to get more. It was strenuous work...yet he knew it had to be done. this part of the job would be the hardest...the most tiring, but the neatest detail on the palace.

He put the rocks on the skeleton, using a cement-like plaster he had made from clay, water, and the sap of a rare tree. When he finished work on the rocks,he felt beaten and tired beyond words. He could hardly speak, hardly move, but he kept working...he would not stop until the palace was a palace...fit for a king.

At last the palace was finished, and he was more tired than anything. He collapsed helplessly upon the earth, sighing as his back hit the ground. His lids fluttered shut as he blacked out...


When he woke, he found a deer looking down at him. Its nose cold against his warm, moist skin. His large hand weakly went up, touching the pelt of the animal. It shied, but stayed by his side and he struggled to his feet. The deer was brave, so he decided to not kill it. He walked numbly over to a large room where he had put a small bonfire pit in the center. The palace was not beautiful...it was not glossy and sheen, but for now, it would have to do...he was too weak to continue.

He sat on a couch carved from a tree trunk. He looked up at the ceiling, resting his tired body. His hand slid to the side of the couch feeling an imperfection in the seating. His callused fingers rubbed over the lump restlessly, as if they could rub it down themselves. He shook his head as he rose, finding one of the sand rocks he had gathered for the wood. He sanded it down until was smooth like water. He got up, looking around at all the furniture, the boxes of meat and veggies, the bottles of herbs and medicines that he had gathered. He would need more, but for now, the small supply was enough for him.

A moan grunted from him as he stepped out into the forest. The boulders and rock had dried, the walls like mountains, strong and indestructable.

He sat down on the stump he had sat upon for so many days carving, cutting, sanding, bending, melting and on and on and on. His ebonite glones looked up into the sky, wonding if there would be a day when he would not be lonely anymore...