The Galdeen Chronicles Part I - The Awakening by Ivan Zoric

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It had been eons since the forest of Galdeen had last been tread, but its soft earth was welcoming to the young Harrow. This little explorer wished nothing more than to bask in the afternoon sun amidst the pleasant environs of a ravishing emerald forest. His eyes set out miles before him, he began the brief but arduous trek through the challenge of foreign weeds and roots that were stiffer than stone. This short obstacle was all that he had to overcome before starting on the clear, set path that would guide him.

His carrying pouch, which was slung on his back and supported with straps of thick ivy, contained little more than a few various rations that would satiate him if his hunger persisted. With his Tarhorn across his left arm, and his pouch, he was traveling with little weight. This made him easy and quick on his feet, and he reached the path with little strain. As a signal of accomplishment, Harrow took a deep breath and embraced all life that had ravished his senses. From the smallest Orkid weeds that smelt of the faintest peppermint and cornhill, to the bark on the largest Yuon trees that smelled strong of age and silent wisdom; all life was brisk and vibrant. The forest was strong to the smell like the brightest pigment on a light surface was to the eyes.

Unlike the workshops and farms that spouted gusts of smoke and putrid brews in his native city, this place seemed as far from any life as could be. Of course, this was in no way true. The forest of Galdeen held within it countless wonders, all which exhumed the most spectacular and animated signs of life, far more than in all the land of Preenamble. Elvish feet had not touched its borders for over three thousand years, but it was not because of any threat or foreboding by some noble elder. Instead, it had been the quick and swift rise in industry that had halted the attention of all elves in Preenamble, and since, the inhabitants of the land had all but forgotten such a place still existed. The forest of Galdeen was far beyond the borders of the land, and so naturally citizens had kept to themselves, busy with their evolving civilization, to go out exploring anything at all.

Even the youngest of the young had gradually grown to detest leaving their districts, let alone the realm of elves entirely. There was far more to be done in the bustling little cities within the now decayed Preenamble forest than could ever be found in the vast and empty endless world outside it.

Yet, despite all this, one young mind still preening with curiosity, decided to tread into an unfamiliar place. Harrow had not been warned, nor paid any heed to what was commanded of him. He was guided by the whims of his fancy, and nothing was to stray him after he had set on his course. He had, initially, intended to do nothing more than some late afternoon exploring before heading back. He had never been outside his forest for a complete day, and did not dare to attempt it now.

So he ventured forth, uninhibited by the foreign sounds and sights around him.

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