Prologue

A child asks his mother to tell him the age-old tale of the Azvel and of his grandfather.

The Long Story

“Prologue”

“Tell me another story mother,” asked the restless child known as Delvin, who was laying atop his straw filled mattress. His mother was sitting beside him on a three legged stool running her smooth flawless fingers through his mattered hair. “Which story would you like to hear?” she asked barely moving her lips as she spoke the words.

“Tell me the story of Great-Grandfather, of the Azvel,” He asked, his innocent eyes shone like diamonds as he stared at his mother. “Really?” replied his mother, who was taken by his sudden interest in his Great-Grandfather. “Ok,” she said “I’ll tell you the story,” Delvin smiled a dazzling smile that could charm angels.

“Grandfather, as you know was an Azvel. He and his kin were the best warriors in all of Thelemor, they rode from place to place from town to town protecting and serving the townsfolk that lived there.  They were simple folk at first helping out where they could, but soon they found their birth-right. At the dawn of the Second Great War the Azvel found themselves at the heart of every battle, at the apex of every victory and at the end of the war itself. And when the dust settled they stood as the sole guardians of the Eight Races and helped them rebuild what they had lost. In the North they helped the Twilight Elves nurture their forests back to health. In the East they helped the Dwarfs rebuild their great stone cities fortifying their once great mines and forges. To the West they helped the Peaceful Trolls find their homes once more, rebuilding their long forgotten kingdom of caves. In the South they rediscovered the long thought forgotten city of the Drifters and helped them reclaim it. They helped the Cygell raise their home from the Eastern Ocean and bring it back to its former glory. They took back the nesting grounds of the ancient Fire-Drakes and kept their hatchlings safe from harm. Then they kept the race of man intact, helping them rebuild their great towering cities and trade towns. And finally when they were finished the Azvel finally retired, leaving their legacy behind them and returning to their people,” Delvin’s Mother looked down to find the huddled figure of Delvin sleeping soundly. She kissed his forehead and bode him goodnight, blowing the candle and sending the room into inky darkness. “Goodnight, my son,” She said as she closed the door and left the room.

Many disregard the tales of the Azvel that the uniting of the Races was done by their kings, their lords and their leaders and not by a single race.

And certainly not by the Azvel.

 For the Azvel have not been seen since the ending of the Second War and the signing of the treaties that currently unite the Eight Races. Some believe that the Azvel never existed in the first place that they were simply a story created by the bards in order to give hope to those who had none.  But the Azvel did exist and they did unite the Eight Races, however the Azvel haven’t been seen in over a century. And it is feared, by those who believe, that they have died out, that the Azvel are extinct.

But for the fate of Thelemor, pray that they aren’t.

 

Author's Note

Please list all grammatical errors.

Reviews

[jjwilbourne]

I love this prologue. Gave a nice background to the world while not over discribing your world's history. The part after the mother leaves the room would fit just as well within the dialogue. I could see a reason why you may not want to do so - depending on the mother's perspective on the story. If it doesn't destroy how she views the story within this timeline, I think it would make the ending work for me a little better.
Stoked to read the next part!