"What the mind doesn't understand, it worships or fears." - Alice Walker

Over the next few days, I feel a subtle change in the air. The ever-familiar humidity starts to dry up, albeit minimally. The daily rains that I have known from my youth get sparser and become absent.

The thought of leaving the forest, thinking it would be a momentous occasion, made me as excited as a butterfly newly hatched from its cocoon at. I thought that one moment I'd be in the forest surrounded by trees, and the next that I would find myself in a barren landscape without any trees. In reality, I did not even notice us leaving the forest. Over the course of two days, the vegetation thinned out. The familiar forest trees were joined by trees I have never seen before. The moist forest floor gradually changed until I found myself standing under the open skies with the unfamiliar ground beneath my feet.

The clouds above my head paint the blue skies with white blotches. I can see various types, but our curriculum never covered clouds in great detail. Clouds always bring rain, but these clouds, shaped like wolf heads and broken leaves, do not seem like storm-bringers and life-givers.

"Laelia, you see that cloud? It almost looks like a dragon," Aedan says to my left and points to the one I had thought was a wolf's head.

"How would you know what a dragon really looks like? There are no true depictions of them," Elorhim shouts over his shoulder.

"Seriously Strongwind, do you have to be such a mudslide? Would it kill you to just keep your enormous mouth closed for once and allow other people to continue their conversations that do not involve you?"

Elorhim ignores Aedan and catapults into a lengthy explanation of the dragons and their disappearance. Aedan rolls his eyes at me when Elorhim continues to bore us for the remainder of the day.

At night we sleep under the stars. There is no need for shelter against the moonlight. Zoe Pherenike, the Third of the Council, is the twin to our Lord, and every night we enjoy her benevolent gaze and protection.

A week after our 'leaving' the forest, the third of our journey, Faolan announces an addition to our daily routine of travelling towards Raven's Peak.

"We will have a duel each sunset to keep us in shape. Every second morning we will start with practice before we travel. There is always room for improvement. The Darkelanders from the other side of the Mountains barely pose a threat to us, but we cannot allow humans to tarnish our reputation should they see anything falling short of perfection. We pride ourselves in the majesty of our surname-givers and their ancient customs, and thus we must continue to build on their legacy."

Faolan, ever the leader and humble prince, start the daily duels by challenging Elorhim. Their duel is tense and watching them is truly magnificent and awe-inspiring. I've seen Faolan fight many times as both Aedan and I have trained against him, but I realise now that he was holding back. Faolan is playful yet deadly, toying with Elorhim before each onslaught. I am surprised by Elorhim, whose fighting I haven't witnessed in centuries. He was a hot-headed imbecile who could never predict an attack once he was enraged. Now Elorhim, knowing his friend and ignoring his taunts, is cool and calculating, never allowing his emotions to cloud his actions. A flicker of annoyance and anger passes his face when Faolan manages to win the duel, but he wipes it off as he congratulates my brother.

Aedan and I are excluded from participating in the duels and training as we are not of the Order. Faolan tasks us and the handful of others who are accessories to the company with reciting The Book of Origins or recounting the tales of our great ancestors after the duels.

The first human town we encounter consists of a handful of houses, a well, and some bigger buildings that I do not recognise. We set camp outside the town's borders – using our tents for the first time.

Faolan denies my request as I beg him to allow Aedan and I to join him in greeting the humans. "They are suspicious of us and will host us for only one night in a decade and assist us with food for the journey."

Faolan's tent is simple and small. There is barely enough space for Aedan and I sitting on his Faolan's sleeping mat, and Elorhim seated on his mat opposite us.

"Their superstitions are moonshine and they believe, among other things, that we steal their healthy children and replace them with our sick. Thus, when the child in their care die they believe it is not their child. They also believe that most of our men are sterile and that our women abduct men and seduce them in order to fall pregnant, and thus that when a human man breaks his vow of marriage, that he is innocent and that it is all to blame on us," Elorhim says, for once adding value to the conversation.

"How absurd!" Aedan exclaims. "As if we ever have sick elves!"

"One of the Swiftfoot ancestors wrote a detailed book about human lore on elves. This was in the time before the council, so the misconceptions are even more shocking," Faolan says as he prepares to greet our reluctant hosts.

"And the half-elves? Where do they fit in?" I enquire.

"There are a few suggestions. Although the previously discussed scenario is utter moonshine, there have been cases where humans and elves have fallen in love. That is not desirable for elves in the millennia to come, as they will have no heirs worthy of inheriting their family names. In the end, they will be left alone when their loved one passes," Elorhim does not mock me and answers my question in all earnest.

"And the half-elves?" Aedan echoes my question.

"Their half-elf children might have a longer wick of life than purebred humans, but they will perish before their elf name-giver does. In many of these cases, the creature of sun and forest would choose to breathe out their last life and pass unto the stars. Could you imagine life without a family? That is surely the most horrible way to live for any elf: having no-one to carry your name to the end of days, choosing to die before your usual five millennia have passed, and then dying far from the forest – banned from all things that define you as an elf."

Elorhim looks utterly horrified at death he is predicting, and surprisingly I find yet another thing to admire in him: his understanding of family and of his identity as an elf. The first I can relate to, but I have some trouble understanding the second. Perhaps that is exactly why his words resonate within me.

"The second plausible explanation is that they are children of the Council and their descendants. Don't you think it odd that the Second One doesn't have a wife? No man or woman can abstain for thousands of years, not even the Council. Especially the First. He has a selection of bastards – some of them quite famous humans, but none important enough for us to remember their names."

Faolan joins the conversation as he puts his simple crown of woven berries on his head: "Do you know that the scholars say that a child is born to Wulfric Vulfgern and Himé Gaianne every year and that that signals the start of a new spring?"

"But that would mean that they have thousands and thousands of children!"

"Yet their children are not immortal. Their life span is shorter than that of humans, yet longer than their animal counterparts," Faolan says as he indicates that he is ready to leave.

We stand and walk him and Elorhim to their horses.

"They also have litters and litters of their own offspring." Elorhim climbs on his horse. "The animal-folk have partners across species – humans, animals similar and animals different to them. But the most profane is that those of same mother and father, brother and sister, can have offspring."

Aedan twists his face in disgust.

"For us, it is acceptable to marry cousin to cousin if the match is favourable and would strengthen the family names. That's why we have such complicated surnames - using either to our choosing," I say in defence of the animal-folk I have never seen.

Faolan nods: "Who are we to judge the customs of the other races? I am sure we have a few customs that they find disgusting, especially the one about our marriages."

We wish Faolan and Elorhim best of luck with their encounter with the suspicious humans, then join the company at dinner.

"It is your turn to tell a story, Laelia and Aedan of Elderlight," Sisse announces clearly after dinner.

I groan: "May I opt out?"

"Pah! Not. Faolan would be shamed at your cowardice," Marabel chides flicking her blonde pony in annoyance.

Aedan groans something about picking on us when Faolan isn't there to defend us, which causes Marabel to rumble in laughter.

I reluctantly stand up after Aedan and I decide on a tale.

I start the narration with the first poem in the Book of Origins:

"When the world was young

And the stars still had songs to be sung,

Our very deeds helped history to be made

And we believed that none would fade.

Vast and empty was the world,

The infinity and darkness was old,

Then came the light, ever shining still,

From nothing came all,

Brought forth by the Word of Will.

And as the earth tore into being,

The waters parted and all came to be.

For there was one that was all-seeing,

He guards over worlds,

And has since passed from ours to yet another.

But before his absence,

All life was created.

Dwarves, in their riches and gloom,

Strong and strong-willed, and strong of will.

Always the water.

Elves in forest light,

Of wisdom and pride.

Light on foot, yet not light of heart.

Always the water.

Humans fickle.

Always the fire.

Skados dark and all of death.

Controlling light and life.

Murky and vengeful,

Loyal to a fault.

Always death.

Dragons mighty, of treasure and heart,

Beasts of legends, gold and flame.

Thunderous roar, shattering claw,

Humble the heart, never to kill.

Always the life.

The smaller races,

Yet of no lesser importance:

Those standing tall,

Breakers of mountains,

Kissers of clouds.

Always the blood."

I skip the multiple stanzas singing praises to all the smaller races not belonging to the Council, but to the Ancients, as I don't know to which races most of the lines are referring to.

"Those of no race:

Creatures crawling, those in flight,

Water-breathers,

And those unknown and scarce.

Later came to be,

A race yet human, yet animal,

Shifting forms, and never belonging.

Children of One and Five.

Always the earth.

And now that which has been lost,

But hopes to be found.

Children of flowers,

Faeries and Fae.

Never forgotten,

Always the light.

For the Order was not set,

And the Ancients were the masters,

Reigning with terror,

Devoid of mercy."

Aedan interrupts me and continues to tell the tale of how the Second of the Council came to be our Lord.