A Mortal Song of Sorrow
Once upon a time, an elf took what was rightly his. He knew this, because he had suffered; an elf is not used to suffering, especially not at the hands of mortals. Though immortal memory fades in and out of a day and a year, there are those who remember deep sorrow because it is so rare. Too, there are those immortals who remember vengeance. In revenge for his sadness, the elf took the mortal's peace. He took their power. He took their wonder and their joy. When the mortals could take the weight of powerlessness and war and always knowing without content no longer, they traded him people to appease his wrath, which he took with wicked grins. Mortals are wont to sell out their own. He put these traded mortals who impossible tasks, relishing their twisted, everlasting frustrations, though his need for vengeance never abated. The mortals could no longer look at their faces in mirrors. Or in glass. Or in ponds, streams, lakes. Yet, they got on w...