When I think of a large tree, I remember my mother. We buried her near a large tree last year. It was her favorite and she would often go there to reflect. I don’t know what she would think about during those times but I believe she thought about my father. He was a human she had known for a short while, and for some reason, that place was significant to them. She never talked about him to me and I never asked.

When my mother died, I noticed slight changes in the way the other elves in our village saw me. It wasn’t negative, but I could sense that being half-human was a distraction for some. Therefore, I decided to seek out my father. My mother’s sister couldn’t remember much about him and was loathe to discuss it, but I was able to piece together enough information to locate him.

I found my father as lord of a modest keep on a river in the east. He was surprised to learn that his brief liaison with a beautiful elf maiden all those years ago had now resulted in a bit of an embarrassment. He turned me away, telling me there was “no room” in his life for me. Shunned by my human family and not wishing to be a discomfort to my elven family, I made the woods my new home. Alone, I would not be a bother to anyone.

I lived there for several months in peace until a few weeks ago. That’s when I heard men from a nearby village in the forest. They searched for days, calling out the name Sara. I had no desire to have them wandering around anymore and eventually locating my camp so I decided to search myself. It wasn’t hard to pick up on the girl’s tracks. Based on the size of her footprints and the amount of depression it made in the soft earth, I knew she was probably around six years old, human, and based on the change in her gait, getting weak.

Soon I came upon her, not nearly as far from the human village as they were searching. She was alive, but frightened and hungry. I took her into my arms and made for the village. In the square, among the shouts and cheers, emerged a relived family. They took the girl and bade me thanks. From the throng, her father appeared. My father. He stared at me for a few moments then, with a pat on the back said, “Perhaps there is room after all.”


Kingmaker SteveMunson