Many eons ago, there were four types of mythical creatures, Elves, Winged People (Harpies), Merpeople and Satyrs/Centaurs.
No, these four cultures did not live in harmony, they were at war. At least, that’s what they were told.
Four divides were set up along the borders of each land. Towering stone walls that had become overgrown over the centuries. Each stone was hand made by the Elves and put together by the Centaurs, the only recorded time were two civilians were in each others presence in harmony.
No one crosses the divides.
It was a normal day in Moonstone Village, the place of the Elves. Everyone got along with their duties and work, such as blacksmiths and carpenters.
The elves were the more handy of the four creatures.
Aldon was packing his bow for a hunt. He wanted to be free, but instead he was bound by his father’s job, destined to be a blacksmith like him.
Just as he was about to leave, his father approached, “Ah! Son! I was just looking for you!”
His father was a big burly man, compared to Aldon who was scrawny, tall and scruffy.
“Hiya dad, what do you want?” Aldon spoke through gritted teeth, trying to sound pleasant.
“Ah, nothing much son, just don’t shoot O’Brien like last time,” He chuckled deeply.
“I’ll try not to, thanks for the advice,” Aldon replied, stumbling forward a bit as his father slapped him on the back playfully.
Aldon aimed his bow and shot the Deer with ease, knocking it down with one arrow.
“Yes!” He whisper-shouted to himself as he dragged his kill into his bag, “Finally!”
His ears twitched in excitement and happiness, but perked up when he heard something in the distance, a faint flutter of feathers.
Curious, he headed towards the noise, treading lightly over branches and twigs, careful not to alert attention.
Once at the noise, he spotted a girl, large, ashy wings towering over her as she struggled to get herself free on a branch.