I am standing at an archway under a

massive tree, made of roots. I cannot see

the inside, as it is obscured by darkness. It
is dusk, fireflies dance around branches,
the leaves are rustling, and a witty path
snakes in between tree houses with
small ,grid-like windows. I call out for my
elf-guide when looking into the darkness of
the base of the tree. I see the light of a
bright-ash lantern emerge from the
darkness. A short-is man with long-straight
brown hair, brown eyebrows, and muted
brown eyes steps out of the darkness,
wearing a black cloak and a large sapphire
ring on his right middle finger. He holds a
short staff with runes and a wolf’s head
engraved into the top face of the cane.
Where the handle would be. He tells me his
name is Fasdalf with a smile.
“I haven’t seen you in so long!” He
exclaims. “I’ve been waiting for you for all
this time! I have so much to share with
you!”He beams in excitement and takes my
hand. I am a child again, with light skin and
blonde hair, almost white. I have a scared
expression on my face.
“Settle, child, all is well in your heart.”
My sadness changes to glee and I laugh.
“I knew you would find your way! Follow
me!”
I ask him to take me to my happy place.
“Right this way, child.”
He utters a word in Elvish, and a small door
opens at the bottom of the tree. A narrow
wooden staircase spirals up the inside. As
we step in, he still holds my hand, but I’ve
changed into my 17-year-old self. Lanterns
illuminate the cramped staircase.
“Be still, we are almost there.” He says,
beaming.
We reach the top of the staircase and two
double doors open into a small tree-house.
It is so far above the trees that all I see is
the purple night sky through the small
window. A round purple pillow with a single
tufted button lays in the corner, and a small
pile of books is in one corner. A blue
broadsword, with a slim hilt, made out of
pure silver, hangs between two pegs on the
wall.
“That is your blade. It was crafted by
Aeador, the high craftsman of Serad-dur. It
has been waiting for you.”
I am 35 years old now. A full beard of wiry
blonde hair frames my face. Hard
eyebrows, full of compassion and justice, sit
above a pair of bright blue eyes. Blonde
hair falls to my shoulders. And I wear a
black cloak, my hands concealed, with a
high collar framing my neck. I look at
Fasdalf.
“It is yours now, as it always has been.”
I step forward, and as I step closer, the light
of the full moon illuminates a line of runes
inscribed in the blade. It is text in Elvish. “It
reads: whoever touches this blade is
blessed by the lineage of Crasdin. May it
serve justly in times of strife.” The blade is
named “Taker of evil” or Nëas du’can in
Ancient Elvic.
I turn the blade over in my hands, feeling
the power that lies in it I finally speak, my
voice hoarse with age.
“Than you, Fasdalf. I never knew something
so beautiful existed.”
He bowed, his long brown hair gently
swaying past his shoulders.
“Son, I only tell you what you already know
to be true.”
Fasdalf had aged. Wrinkles creased his
face, and the roots of his hair were gray. A
long beard went to his chest.
“Are you ready for the next stage, my son?”
“I have been ready since the day I was
born.” I reply with determination in my eyes.
Fasdalf nods gently, and he holds up his
sapphire ring from a gray-haired finger. A
blinding green light temporarily obscures
my vision, and then we are on a beach, with
turquoise green water flanking us on our
left, white sand stretching in front of us, and
trees on our right. Fasdalf pointed. He now
looked to be over the age of 100, with
completely gray hair. I looked into the
distance and saw a young girl. She was
naked, and had long brown hair and
freckles, with green eyes. She smiled, but I
could not see it because I was too far away.
Fasdalf spoke,
“Son, you hold great regret within your
heart. Regret for imaginations that have
come to pass. You hold resentment for
those who would wish you good, and hate
for those who wish you ill.”
“This limpness and frailty of emotion binds
you. Until you forgive yourself, you will be in
this unfortunate loop. Remember what
others have taught you before. Love
yourself, and the world…is yours.”
Before he left, he shared images in my
thoughts of a wolf’s feet and teeth.
He disappeared, and I was back in the
woods, sitting on a log.