Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → Arctavia

This is the revised version of my book, Arctavia. On the other forum it came out sloppy with a bunch of mistakes.

Arctavia, Prologue: The War

Arctavia was sitting in a woven oak chair underground. The place was nice, really, and it was better lit than you would expect. He walls were a faded green, typical for an Elven room. There was a staircase a few feet behind the chair, and a fireplace infront. The staircase led up to the surface, covered by some bracken and a tree.
He wore a stained white shirt, brown pants, and black leather boots; he didn't live as much off of nature as most Elves. He was five feet tall, and on a silver belt was a little dagger.
His yellow hair swung a bit to the sides, and he turned. There were four Humans and one Wizard blocking the exit. "Hey Akalan. I see the war has begun." Arctavia said to the leader of them, obviously not thinking it was effecting him.
"Arctavia, how many times must I tell you, we are not friends." Akalan sneered.
"And I never said we were, and I never thought so." Arctavia paused. "Maybe I just thought a fair fight would be-" Then there was a flash of orange light, coming from a Wizard's staff. The Wizard was wearing a bloodred robe, while the others were wearing green and black leather.
Arctavia looked down, what he saw astonished him. Where his hand should have been, there was blood. "If that is how it is going to go..." But he didn't finish; he was in too much pain, but he did not show it.
The three of Akalan's men grabbed Arctavia and brought him up the staircase. "Intibus was really neat back there. I bet this Elf 'ere is in lots o' pain." It took awhile still after that Arctavia learned he was talking to the other guards.

They had been walking for hours when they reached a tower. The tower was completely empty except for a chair, exactly in the middle. It was dark, and one lone torch poorly lit the room. Arctavia felt the cold stone on his bare feet; they thought making him walk barefoot for miles would be slightly better torcher. They shoved him in the chair, and then tied him in.
"Arctavia, you are called, yes?" said a man with a scratchy voice. He had long grey hair, and had an eyepatch over his left eye. Besides that, he looked exactly like the other guards and Akalan. He was looking down at a piece of parchment in his hand "Hmm, yes, Princess Korothoris orders us to leave you in this tower to starve."
He looked over the paper to see his expression, but it was blank. There was no surprise in his eyes, and he sat so low you could tell he was not up to anything. There was not even the thrill in his eyes, which if you knew Arctavia, knew that it was the closest thing to impossible that could happen.
The man shrugged and kept reading. When he was finished, he left the tower, and locked the door.
Only seconds later did Arctavia here a scream of pain from outside the door. Then there were sounds of axes and morning star maces on the door. The wood splintered everywhere, until finally, he saw Dwarves step in.
"Oi, Kanseir!" Arctavia called. He knew these Dwarves. He was saved.