The Fate of the Sixth Hand by FdBooks

JAN MARIE REYNOLDSON

The Seventh Hand

he Gray Elves, enemies of the demon worshipping Black Kings and Councilors of Gorroc, and their Queen the she-demon Malega, prophesized that it would be the fate of the Sixth Hand to end the long reign of evil. The sixth generation of Black Rule had now come and the Elves had reason to hope. The Councilor Corin, destined to take his father’s dark path, had renounced his evil destiny and had convinced his King to create a realm without demon influence. However, long-standing evil is not so easily eradicated. Malega was still present in the shadows and Corin’s life and soul were at risk. Forced to flee the realm of Gorroc, Corin took refuge in the sacred forest of the Gray Elves, protected by a magical mist that did not allow evil to enter. Malega’s demons encircled the forest, keeping Corin imprisoned within. After seven years of demon siege, the Gray Elves had given up hope that Corin could be their prophetic Sixth Hand; but Fate had not given up hope in Corin.

JAN MARIE REYNOLDSON, born in the USA, has lived most of her life in central Italy. Inventing stories has always been her passion and she has taken writing as a hobby to bring those stories to life.

ISBN 978-1694075765

€ 19,90

9 781694 075765

Auto da fé … Licenziando queste cronache ho l’impressione di buttarle nel fuoco e di liberarmene per sempre (E. Montale)

ÂŠ Jan Marie Reynoldson, 2019 ÂŠ FdBooks, 2019. Edizione 1.0 Digital editions of this book are avalaible on Google Play (.epub) and Amazon (.mobi).

On the cover: Drawing by Jan Marie Reynoldson, in collaboration with Francesca Rapiti. ISBN 978-1694075765

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

JAN MARIE REYNOLDSON

The Seventh Hand Rossana Pessione

La teoria del moltiplicatore

For my friend Leslie. Without her encouragement, I probably would never have had the courage to publish this book. I thank her for her constructive comments and the time she dedicated to the reading and editing of this massive work of mine.

Jan Marie Reynoldson

The Seventh Hand Book I

The Fate of the Sixth Hand

Gold and Black

his story begins in a time when the world was younger and still full of magic, when the ancient races still roamed the land and the elf clans still thrived in their sacred woods. In that time, the race of man was just beginning to build strong and magnificent cities. Tall, thick walls surrounded these cities to keep out the evil that men saw in the world, to keep away the creatures that frightened them, to protect their belongings and their loved ones from beings they did not trust. One of these cities arose at the end of a deep, river carved valley, on the western edge of the Gray Mountain range that divided the mountainous lands to the north from the low hills and plains that spread out to the south and west. This city did not grow from an already existing village. It sprang forth seemingly from nothing, without plan, without apparent reason or purpose. Two strange men had come with cartloads of gold and a following of strong men. They made camp near the river and the followers took up axes and began clearing away the trees. They cut up the larger trees for timber and burned the rest. When they had cleared the trees on the western banks of the river, the followers took up hammers and picks and began carving stones from the hills. More people came, attracted by the promise of good pay for their work, and a mighty and beautiful castle began to take shape. Stone and wooden buildings sprang up like mushrooms around the great hall, and tall, imposing walls soon encircled the city. The two men who guided the work set golden crowns upon their own brows and proclaimed themselves king and councilor of this new city, Gorroc.

This city was near a lovely forest of birch trees in which lived the Golden Elf clan. The Golden Elves watched the city grow under the guiding hands of the young, strong-willed king and his clever councilor. They did not trust these two men. Their aspect did not match their hearts; their actions did not correspond to their wills. They were richly dressed in fine black silks and furs, but it was not clear how they had acquired that wealth. Their riches bought the working hands of many men and the city grew quickly, too quickly for the elves. The wealth and power that emanated from this king and his councilor attracted men and women like moths to a flame. Thousands swore their loyalty and the city grew quickly and flourished. The Golden Elves were troubled in heart and worried. It was not natural. When the castle was finished, three mighty thrones of obsidian were set on the dais at the end of the great audience hall. The people looked puzzled at the throne between the seats of the king and his councilor. The crowned men stood and held out their hands. A woman stepped out from behind the tall throne, whom no one had seen before. She took the offered hands of her king and councilor and sat down on the central throne. She was the most beautiful woman any man in that hall had ever seen. A richly ornate golden crown circled her head, diamonds sparkled in her black hair, and her glittering dark eyes mesmerized the hearts of the men and women gathered. She was the jewel of the realm. Golden chains graced her long, white neck and huge brightgemmed rings adorned her hands. Matching gemmed rings shone on the hands of her king and councilor. There was no doubt that she belonged to both men equally, and that their hearts belonged to her. The three rulers were dressed similarly in long, black robes and dress of the finest silk, lace and velvet. They were three people, but their hearts and their will were one. They stood as three pillars of the same structure, and they seemed mighty and enduring. The people gathered for the event fell in awe of the queen and her consorts. The splendor was unbelievable and the magnificence

of the rulers won the hearts of the population. The people swore their allegiance and faithful obedience to their king, queen and councilor. The loud cheers that broke forth from the mouths of the people of Gorroc reached the sharp ears of the Golden Elves in their sacred woods many miles to the east. The king and councilor had troubled the hearts of the Golden Elves, but the sight of their queen stilled the blood in their veins and filled their hearts with despair. The queen was not a woman, nor was she a creature of this world. When the elves first saw her, she was like a dark shadow or a hole in the world. Then they recognized her and dread filled their hearts. The queen was a she-demon from the Void, a succubus and an enchanter of men. To the eyes of men, she was an exquisite woman; but the probing eyes of the elves saw her in her true form. She was beautiful, yes, but she was not human. She had six arms and a serpent’s tail instead of legs. She was an abomination. She had no place in this world; yet she was here and she had enslaved the hearts of the king and councilor to her will. Indeed, her spell of enchantment fell over the entire realm. This new realm was a reign of evil. Evil had come to the Earth to enthrall and capture the souls of men. The Golden Elves could not accept the presence of such evil so close to their sacred forest. The Golden Elf King and his best warriors came boldly to this unnatural realm to accuse the rulers of conspiracy with evil forces. They protested the atrocity of demon rule on Earth. The elves denounced the demon-bride and condemned her spirit to return to the Void where it belonged. The Black King and Black Councilor laughed in the Golden Elf King’s face in response to the accusations. They ridiculed the elves with lewd insults. They told them that they had no right to interfere with the realms of men. The Black Queen, however, took a different approach to the problem. She feigned offense at the accusations of the Golden Elves and turned her followers’ hearts against the elves who had dared to insult their queen.

“Malega, fair Malega is our queen! You are abominable creatures! You have no right to offend her.” Then, as if they were rats or unwanted pests, the people of Gorroc drove the Golden Elves from their city. They spat upon and kicked the elves as they fled. “Gorroc! Gorroc!” The people cried proudly from the walls of their city as the elves ran back to their forest. “Long live our King and our Councilor. Long live the fair Queen Malega!” The reaction of the people of Gorroc shook the Golden Elves; but they were not defeated. They could not abide demon rule and the stain of evil on the good Earth. They raised an army of Golden Elf warriors and marched on the black city and against its black rule. Armed with bright spears and long bows with swift arrows, they laid siege to the castle, surrounding its walls. The arrows and objects hurled from the city walls by the men of Gorroc could not hurt the Golden Elves, who had powerful magic that protected their warriors from physical attack. Their magic was strong enough to make the thick walls of a city crumble and fall; but, to their frustration, even their strongest spells fell like snowflakes onto the walls of Gorroc and did no damage. Either Malega was able to turn their spells with her own magic or her evil presence had corrupted the land, rendering it unresponsive to the spells of the elves. For three days, the elves sought to penetrate the walls with their spells or break the doors with their weapons; but their efforts were in vain and they retreated to their sacred forest. As the Golden Elves approached their village, they felt a great dread growing in their hearts. When they came within sight of their homes, they understood the reason for this feeling. Their village was full of black, winged demons and each huge demon had two or three elves held tight in the grip of its wicked talons. The Golden Warriors raised their weapons and rushed to the rescue of their loved ones, but stopped immediately at the sight of the she-demon Malega, in her true form, standing in the center of their village with her Black King and Black Councilor,. The elf children screamed in

pain as the demon claws closed on their shoulders, the women and elderly cried out desperately for their husbands and sons to give up the attack and throw down their arms. The she-demon Malega, her Black King and Councilor smiled wickedly as the Golden Elf King nodded to his warriors and they threw down their weapons. “We have given up our attack on your city and have retreated in defeat back to our forest,” said the Golden Elf King. “Why have you come here to torment our loved ones?” “Why did you come to our city to torment our loved ones?” countered the Black King. “Our intention was to take you from power.” “Yet you killed one of our citizens!” At the Black King’s accusation, Malega made a sign to her demons with their captives. Ten elves, among them women, children and elderly, screamed and fell lifeless to the ground. The assassination attack was sudden and unexpected and the elves remained speechless and stunned. Some gasped and a few of the women and children prisoners wept in helpless pain at their loss; but, otherwise, the elves remained in silence. “You are fortunate that only one of my citizens died,” growled the Black King. “I swore that I would kill ten of your elves for every human life that you took.” “You have exacted your price,” responded the Elf King in a low voice. “Now take your demons and leave our forest.” “I want to know why you attacked our city,” demanded the Black King. “Why do you insist on meddling in our affairs?” “We could not abide your rule of this land. It is not natural that demons should rule on the Earth. The Earth has no place for demons, and men should not place their trust or loyalty in them.” “Who are you to say in what men should or should not place their loyalty? Should elves decide how men are to rule their realms?” “We admit our defeat,” said the Golden Elf King with some difficulty. Elves were a proud race and this defeat burned deep

and painful in their hearts. “I swear to you that we will never attack your city again. We have seen that we are powerless against the spells of your demon consort. Though we oppose your rule, we accept our defeat. I swear to you, we will not interfere again in your affairs. Please, free my people and leave our forest. You will not see us again.” The Black King and Councilor seemed amused by the Elf King’s plea. They knew the pride of the elves. “You laid siege to our city,” stated the Black Councilor. “Now we hold your people. You have admitted your defeat in your attack against our city. What do you say now to us, victors over your people? Their lives are in our hands. What would you pay for their release?” “I would give my life in exchange for their lives.” The Golden Elf King spoke proudly. “I am their King.” Malega snickered and the Black King and Councilor laughed. “Your title means nothing to us,” the Black Councilor said with disdain. “Your life is worth one of theirs. What would you give, Golden Elf King, to ransom the lives and souls of your people?” The Golden Elf King saw the Black rulers eyeing his golden crown. He heard the greed and desire in their voices. The Elf King reached up, removed his crown and set it on the ground at the Black King’s feet. “I would give you all of our gold in exchange for the lives of my people.” The Black King and Councilor looked at Malega. She nodded. “This payment is acceptable for the safe release of your citizens; but take care that not one golden nugget remains in your village or we will kill your people. To ransom their lives, you must give us all of your gold.” The Black King’s eyes gleamed with greed as he spoke. “First though, bring forth all your weapons. You have promised that you will never attack us again. You will not need your arms.”

The Golden Warriors bristled with fury at the request, but the Golden Elf King held up his hand to silence their protest. They brought all of their weapons and their golden armor, and laid them at the feet of the Black King. They went through their homes, then, and brought out all of their golden coins and jewelry. They even took the gold decorations from the white birch trunks that were the pillars of their homes. They brought every item containing gold and laid it at the feet of each demon. When the pile before each demon was complete, that demon would release its prisoners. Those freed ran with relief to the sides of their loved ones or helped others to bring out the gold, until all the elves were free. The elves stood then in a tight group behind their king, fearful and worried for the judgment of the Black King and his demons. Malega nodded with a satisfied look on her face and her demons scooped up the golden items in their arms. Then she made a complex motion with her six arms and a huge portal opened in the midst of the elf village, a doorway to her realm in the Void. The elves cried out in pain at the sight of such horror in their sacred woods. The demons took their burden, stepped through the portal and returned to the Void. Malega, her Black King and Black Councilor remained only long enough to give a warning to the elves. “If we find that you have kept gold from us, then the lives of your people will be at risk. If you come again to our city, whether to give accusation or to attack, then we will kill you all and burn your village and your forest. You have dared to face us and you have seen the consequences of your foolish act. You are powerless against us and it would be wise of you to remember that.” They looked with scorn on the silent and shamed elves. “Golden Elves, you are a sorry group.” Then, laughing, they stepped through the portal. It closed behind them with a clap of thunder, leaving a stench of bitter smoke and rot. The Spirit Guide of the elves used his magic to call

up a strong wind to blow away the stench that hung in the air. Then the elves bent, gathered their dead loved ones and carried them into their homes to prepare them for their funeral. Malega’s attack had been efficient. The demons had killed only ten elves, but every family had suffered a loss. The grief of the Golden Elves for this brutal and pitiless attack would endure for many years. “We cannot take revenge for this atrocity,” spoke the Golden Elf King at the funeral. “We have made a promise and the price we would pay if we broke it would be the end of us. The lifespan of man is short. This Black King and his Black Councilor are young, but they will die before we die. Their reign will end and we can take back our gold and the lifestyle that is ours to lead.” A year after the retreat of the elves into their birch forest, the Black King, the Black Councilor and their demon consort returned to the village of the Golden Elves. The elves were furious at this invasion of their sacred woods and rushed to attack the intruders. A spell of Malega stopped them in their tracks. “We have kept our promise,” growled the Golden Elf King in anger. “Why have you come here to bother us and corrupt our sacred forest with your evil presence?” “On this anniversary of your defeat and surrender, we have come to verify that you have kept your promise to us,” stated the Black King proudly. “You see that we have kept our promise,” said the Elf King. “Now leave here immediately.” “You have weapons,” stated the Black Councilor. “We promised not to attack you. We use our weapons only for hunting; and we do not gild them as before. We have no gold in our possession.” “Yet you are still dressed in golden clothes,” noted the Black Councilor. “We are still the Golden Elves,” responded the Golden Elf King proudly.

“You have promised to give us all of your gold in exchange for the lives of your people,” said the Black King. “Your clothes are surely made of golden thread.” The Golden Elf King looked at the Black King in disbelief. “It is thread, with such little gold to be of no worth. Would you take the very clothes off our backs?” “We would take only those articles of clothes that contain golden thread or decoration. You have promised all of your gold to us. If you will not render these clothes to us, we will take the lives of your people.” Furious at the ridiculous request, the Golden Elf King ripped his golden robes off and threw them at the feet of the Black King. The elves followed his example, leaving on only those clothes that were without golden thread. They went through their homes and brought out not only clothing, but also table covers and bedding with golden embroidery. The Elf King would not let the Black King take away their clothing, though. When the pile was gathered, he put torch to the clothes and embroidered works. When the cloth had burned to ash, the Elf King threw water on the ashes to wash them away from the golden thread that remained. Then he gathered up all the golden thread, put it into a sack and handed it to the Black Councilor. “Now you have all of our gold. Leave our forest immediately and do not return.” “We do not have all of your gold,” the Black Councilor smirked. “Your mines are still full of gold.” “There are no mines in our forest,” replied the Elf King. “Our mines are on the Gray Mountain.” “Then those mines belong to me,” replied the Black King. “The Gray Mountain range lies within my realm now. You will show me these mines.” “The mines are on your mountain. You can find them without our help.” “You will show us all of your mines,” commanded Malega. The Elf King, not wanting to anger the she-demon, went with them to reveal the location of every mine used by the Golden Elves.

“These mines are ours now,” said the Black King when they had accompanied the Golden Elf King back to his forest. “Any elf found near these mines or anywhere outside of this birch forest will be killed immediately.” “As you command,” replied the Elf King through clenched teeth. “Now you have all of our gold. Leave us to live our lives in peace in our forest.” The elves felt crushed by the actions of Malega and her Black King and Councilor, but they were still the Golden Elves and they still had a bit of pride. They had no more gold, but the leaves of their birch trees turned golden yellow in the fall and they took these to decorate their clothes and their homes. They pressed the leaves, coated them with beeswax to preserve them, and sewed them onto their clothing. They wore their new clothes proudly because the leaves of their sacred forest decorated them. To the dismay of the Golden Elves, the Black King and Councilor returned with Malega a year later. The three laughed heartedly at the sight of the proud elves dressed in leaves. “We would not have expected to find you more pitiful than how we left you a year ago; yet, here you are, decorated with leaves and proud of it. The pride of the elves has no rival. You feel pride even while dressed like primitives.” “Why have you come? Leave us to live our lives as we please in our forest.” “We have come to celebrate the birth of our sons with another victory,” responded the Black King to the Golden Elf King. “Our sons are promised to Malega and will continue in our place when we leave the throne, but we would have our lands continuous and intact when it is passed to them. We have added much land to our realm by battle and by agreements with surrounding lords. Your realm now lies totally within our realm. Your lands are now ours. Leave here now or die in your forest when we burn it.” The Golden Elves cried out in despair and dismay.

“These are sacred woods. We beg you, do not burn this forest.” “We cannot let it stand. It would be a victory for you. It must burn as a lesson to you, and to all the elf clans, that we have supreme power. We are not without pity for you, though. We are giving you the chance to leave here with your lives. There are other elf clans to the south. We will let you go to live with them.” “We could not live elsewhere,” the Elf King cried. “We are the Golden Elves and this is the Golden Forest. We cannot live in another place.” “Then your pride will be the death of you. You may die here in your forest with your trees.” Malega made a sign and a portal opened once again to her realm. Demons swarmed forth, torch in hand. The Golden Elves took up their hunting knives and bows, and leaped up bravely against the demons. Some demons fell, but others broke through the elfin defense and rushed towards the elf village, setting torch to the trees and brush as they ran. The elves cried out in hopeless desperation and they prayed to the Earth’s Spirit to save them from this terrible and unjust evil. Their tears fell to the ground and the Spirit of the Earth heard their pleas and answered with a powerful magical spell. A gray mist rose up from the ground where the tears of the elves had fallen, a mist born from their tears and the color of their hearts. The mist expanded outward until it filled the sacred forest completely. The fog extinguished the flames of the fires set by the demons inside the forest; but stranger was its effect on the evil creatures it touched. Upon contact with the Gray Mists, the demons inside the sacred woods burst into flame that consumed their bodies completely. From outside, Malega tried to throw spells to dissolve away the mist, but her spells were powerless against it. She commanded the demons that were still outside the woods to enter, but they burned violently as soon as they touched the foggy barrier that encircled the birch trees. At her command, the remaining

demons hurled their weapons into the misty forest, but the arms also burned to ash as soon as they touched the mists. The Black King and Councilor saw the power of the mists and stayed away, fearful for their lives. The elves were safe from Malega and her demons while they were inside the mists. No evil could enter into their forest now. For months, Malega tried in vain to break through the barrier of the mists. The strongest of gales could not blow it away. It did not lift with the dry heat of summer or with the freezing cold of winter. It did not dissipate with even the heaviest of rains or snow. The mists had risen from the pleas of the elves to protect them; and, as long as they were in danger from the demons, it would not dissipate. They were safe inside the forest, but Malega surrounded the woods with demons and the Golden Elves could not leave. The Gray Mists were a doubled-edged sword. No evil could enter the barrier and no evil could exist inside the sacred woods. The mists filled the sacred forest completely and affected the lives of the Golden Elves as much as it did the evil that tried to enter. Inside those mists, the elves could not have evil thoughts or intentions without feeling a burning in their hearts that increased in intensity with the intensity of their hate. The mists would not let them hate their enemy, even when they remembered the atrocities committed. They could not plot revenge. The mists calmed their troubled hearts into submission and they no longer desired to rebel against the demons. The she-demon eventually called her demons away from their guard on the forest, but the Black King decreed that any elf found within his realm, Golden or other, should be killed instantly and without hesitation. He also forbade talk or mention of elves, whether in conversation or in writing. After a few generations of evil tyranny, no one in Gorroc believed that elves existed any longer. Many doubted that elves had ever existed. The Gray Forest

was a cursed place. Rumors said that anyone who tried to enter the forest would burst into flames. It was a forbidden place, and the citizens of Gorroc did not go near it. The Golden Elves had hoped in vain that the evil reign of Malega and her Black King and Councilor would end when these died. When their sons rose to take the thrones, they were crueler than their fathers had ever been. Generation after generation was dedicated to the service and worship of the immortal Malega, and the Black Reign seemed to have no end. As decades passed, the Golden Elves became the Gray Elves. Their hearts and their minds were as gray as the mist of their sacred woods. They put off their white clothes, decorated with the golden leaves, and took on clothes of gray. Their elegant, white homes, exposed to the moisture of the omnipresent mists, became gray. Some of the younger elves had never seen the unveiled sun. None of them had ever seen gold. If not for the golden leaves of the trees, the elves born after the coming of the mists would not even know how to distinguish the color gold. When the Golden Elf King lay on his deathbed, he called his Spirit Guide to his side. â&#x20AC;&#x153;For the love of my son who will soon become the Gray Elf King, and for the love of the generations of elves to come, ask the Spirit of the Earth if the black reign will ever end or if we will live in this gray forest forever. If there were no hope that we could ever again live as the Golden Elves in our Golden Forest, it would be pointless to continue living in this way. If we must live this stifled life in these Gray Mists until the end of time, then it would be better to take our lives now and end this senseless way of life. At least we would live freely in the Spirit World.â&#x20AC;? The Spirit Guide was of the same mind, so he took up the cup of ceremonial wine and drank deep of it. His spirit wandered and expanded until it was one with the Spirit of the Earth. Then he asked his question and he received a reply. When the effects of the wine lifted and he could speak again, he recited the verse left in his mind by the One Spirit.

Fate will turn the Sixth Hand to end the reign of evil. Destiny wills that gold shall be born of black And shall wed with gray to join our cause. The Seventh Hand shall gather four Children of the Earth And the ancient races. Together they shall destroy the realm of terror And drive away the shadows. Evil shall kneel down before truth and be no more. The Gray Mists shall be lifted then And all shall be golden once more. â&#x20AC;&#x153;It seems that we must wait until the sixth and seventh generation of Black Kings before fate will turn to our favor. Yet we are already well into the third generation. We will not have to wait an eternity. Perhaps our children will not see the end of this evil reign, but our grandchildren might be lucky enough to see the sun again. Our grandchildren might once again live as Golden Elves.â&#x20AC;? This prophecy lit some hope in them. Pride returned to their hearts. They were the Gray Elves now, but they would be the Golden Elves again. However, life was not easy for the Gray Elves in their mist-filled forest. They were not able to leave it to forage for food and they knew hunger. Many had died in the first battles with the demons and they were limited in finding spouses who were not relatives. Their numbers diminished until they feared that their clan would die out before they regained their freedom. Some hope returned during the fifth generation of Black Rule in Gorroc. More than half of the Gray Elf Forest lay within the region of Sercio to the east of Gorroc. A tyrant king who was slave to the Black King of Gorroc ruled this region. During the reign of the fifth Black King, a group of adventurers, looking for fame and fortune, came to the region of Sercio and ousted the tyrant king. This group of adventurers took power in Sercio and refused to honor the powers in Gorroc. The Black Rulers in Gorroc were at war with

the Northlands in this time, and did not want to risk battle with the new powers in Sercio. Their relations remained tense and hostile, but there was no war between these two realms. With the release of Sercio from the influence of Gorroc, the Northlands were now able to send their commerce through Sercio on their southeastern border, and they rose further in power. Gorroc, feeling pressure on its borders, began to suffer the poverty that it had once inflicted on its surrounding realms. The fall of Sercio gave the Gray Elves the freedom to leave their forest without having to fear death at the hands of demons or of those loyal to Malega. The Gray Elf King went to pay homage to the seven new lords of Sercio and to beg freedom to travel in or through their lands. An accord was set up between Sercio and the elves of the Gray Forest. The Gray Elves were free to travel through or hunt in the lands of Sercio as long as they obeyed the laws of Sercio while in those lands. Any elf that broke a law of Sercio would be subject to trial and prosecution in the court of Sercio, but would have the right to the presence of an elfin judge in the trial. Likewise, any human who entered the Gray Forest or harmed an elf would be subject to trial and prosecution in the Gray Forest, but with the presence of a human judge. This new accord made it easier for the Gray Elves to find food, whether by hunting or through commerce and trade of goods in Sercio. It also allowed them to travel to other elf clans to find spouses. Not many elves from other clans were willing to live in the Gray Forest, and those who chose to do so were not happy there; but, elf children were born for the first time in almost a century and the Gray Elf clan began to thrive again. Though they were now free to leave the mists of their forest, few Gray Elves willingly left the security of their woods. None of those living had ever seen sunshine before, and they were not comfortable in its bright light. They felt exposed and uneasy outside of their mists. After an initial period of excitement over their newly found freedom, the Gray Elves returned to their forest and seldom

left it again. They were the Gray Elves now and the Gray Forest was their home. They were as proud of being Gray Elves as their ancestors had been of being Golden Elves. Few now hoped for an eventual lifting of the mists and a return to life as the Golden Elves. They had no memory of a golden life. They had no desire for one. They were the Gray Elves. They were happy enough with their gray life. They saw no need to change their ways.