The Stolen Princess
The children gathered in the small garden in Felwithe
where lazy bumblebees buzzed around Hollyhocks and gay butterflies flitted
from rose to rose.
Tell us another story, Sylvene."
"The one of the Dragon Hunt!"
"No. The one of the captured Princess."
"The Dragon! The Dragon!"
"But I haven't heard the one of the Princess!"
"Ow! Stop pushing."
"She pinched me!"
Sylvene smiled and put down her embroidery.
"Now, little ones… do not push and pinch each other. If you
quiet down and I shall tell you the tale of the captured Princess. Since
little Frostling here hasn't heard it before."
Her eyes turned a little misty as she looked over her garden and began.
"Once upon a time, there was an Elven Princess. One who loved life
and enjoyed it to the fullest. She was gay of heart and soul. She had
a heart of love for all she met, even the ones who disliked her. She forgave
them and went on her way without care or worry. Thusly, she gained the
hatred of many. For there are the evil ones who hate, and those sour of
heart who were jealous of her.
She held Festivals and invited all to attend. The Dark as well as the
Light. A truce would be declared on those days so that the Dark and the
Light could learn each other's languages and trade with each other. Friendly
tourneys were held in the Arena so that skills could be tested and champions
But it was such fair doings that had the Dark ones muttering. The evil
sought to sow confusion and mistrust amongst the Light. So they stole
"How did they steal the Princess?"
Sylvene smiled and looked at the eager faces.
"They waited and they watched. The Princess was young and well,
foolish in many ways. She did not believe that she was in danger from
the various vague threats that had been made. Although she could have
had many brave and fearsome protectors if she so wished, she preferred
to go hunting with her boon companions of her own age and rank. She was
not a weak maiden. Indeed, she had much fire in her heart and soul.
She was hunting with her half-elven brother when…"
"Shhhh…. Don't interrupt!"
The high-elf nodded at the youngsters at her feet.
"Half-elven. The Princess had a heart large enough and love enough
that she called a half-elf her brother and a wood-elf her sister."
The children's eyes grew large.
"My mummy says that high-elves are the best!"
Sylvene chuckled and folded the embroidery in her lap before she continued.
"Perhaps they are… perhaps… But I am sure Trolls think
they are the best. And Ogres think they are the best."
"Tell the story!"
"Aye… the story. Well, the Princess was hunting with her half-elven
brother. Jantis Eorle he was called. A Bard of the finest measure. He
always made her laugh, for he had a sparkling wit and a happy mien. He
could tell the finest stories and make up the best songs and ditties.
He was also fearsome in his battle skills. He had songs to heal and songs
Oh! A Bard!"
"No wonder he was Half-elven. We do not have Bards."
Sylvene smiled again.
"No, we do not. The High Elves do not choose that following. We
prefer the Magics and the holy orders. Sometimes I wonder why. Some of
“The story, please."
"Please Sylvene… tell the story."
"Very well… you do not wish to listen to me prate of our prejudices.
The story. Where was I?"
The children chorused.
"Ah yes. The valiant Bard. The Princess and the Bard were hunting
in the East Commonlands. In the bright clear of the day. They encountered
many friendly folk, and were stopped by a Human, dressed in the robes
of the Mages. They stopped to speak with him and a Wood-elf maiden came
by. A strange encounter, for they thought her their friend, yet she trained
a dread skeleton upon them. The Bard handily destroyed the skeleton with
the help of the Human. But while his back was turned, two Dark Elves and
an Ogre snatched the Princess away. She screamed and fought, throwing
her very best spells and piercing them with her dagger, but alas, they
were three to her one person. The Bard sprang valiantly to her rescue,
but the Human struck him in the back, a mortal blow. The Human was on
the side of the Dark. He was a… "
Her voice dropped to a whisper, drawing the children into the suspense.
"Necromancer! One who learned the dark magicks. One who prayed to
Innoruuk, the dread Lord."
"Oh yes! The Bard was slain! The Princess fought harder than ever,
calling out to her friends and champions. She tore lose from her captors
and in an effort to gain time, ran into the Nektulos Forest."
"Yes… The forest. The Dark one where little elven children
should not venture. There are many evil creatures there to steal your
lives and your souls. The Princess cried for help and many were those
that answered her. Many were those that came running to her rescue, but
all for naught. For she was taken. Bound and gagged, into the depths of
the Nektulos Forest, and into the dungeons of Neriak. City of the Dark
"No! Not Neriak!"
Sylvene's gaze went over the children's heads, her eyes losing their
focus, and then she shook her head and continued the story.
"Aye. Neriak. The third gate. She was taken to the Cathedral and
"Oh! How did she escape?"
"Did her champions rescue her from Neriak?"
"Did the High Elves storm Neriak, kill all the Dark ones and free
"Nay… they did not. Her champions did not rescue her from
Neriak, for they could not find her there. Before they arrived, she had
been moved. It was a plot you see. One to destroy the Light. The Dark
sought to confuse and sow discord among the Light. And for a time, they
succeeded. They tortured the Princess and taunted the Light with her death
and resurrection. They demanded a King's ransom for her return, but never
planned to return her even if their ransom were met. Finally, they demanded
a champion to fight for her soul. For the privilege of retrieving her
broken body. Oh, there was much dispute and discord amongst the Light,
for many wished to champion their Princess. They could not agree if they
should pay the ransom or if they should send a strike force to bring her
back. Some even wanted to leave her with her captors, arguing that one
elf was not worth the trouble or the price.
The arena chosen was in the middle of Lake Rathetear. A veritable fortress
where the Dark forces assembled knew they could not be ambushed. It was
a formidable place. With large stones stained with countless eons of blood
sport. There was only one entrance, and there was a throne in this Arena.
One where they placed the Princess upon. Mocking her and taunting the
Light, for through the single entrance, they could see the Princess on
the throne and hear her cries as they struck and hurt her."
"Oh… poor Princess."
"Shhh… I want to hear of the battle."
"And that you shall, child."
Sylvene ruffled the light hair of the young elf and continued.
"Aye the forces of the dark were formidable indeed. There were many
Trolls and Ogres there that day, as well as Dark Elves. And they waited
there. Waited for the Light to come to the place of slaughter. General
Remen of Safe Haven tried to negotiate with the forces of Dark but e'en
as he did so, a brash monk rushed in. Ah! She was so anxious to save her
Princess. But the moment she kicked a Troll, cries of treachery rang through
the arena. The Dark forces slaughtered the General where he stood and
his forces charged in. Chaos ensued. Truly… at that time, the Princess
The Light forces charged into the Arena, not as one unified body, but
were much like small stinging sand flies in the face of the Dark solidarity.
To punish the Light for their treachery, the Princess was beaten in front
of her would-be rescuers, and her screams rang out amidst the cries of
The bloodbath and the cries of the Dark soon brought their Dark God Mage.
Aradiel. Ah… how he tempted the Princess.
"Take my hand child, accept the embrace of the dark. I shall alleviate
your suffering and spare your life."
But the Princess, bruised and battered as she was, defied him.
"Never! Never will I take your hand. Light shall prevail this day!"
But Aradiel spoke again, mocking her.
"Is that the corpse of Caliphe, I see? One of the great three of
Unrest?. You have no hope child. Your Champion of the Light has fallen."
Truly, the Princess began to lose heart. Perhaps it was her prayers,
perhaps it was the presence of the Dark God Mage, but the Avatar of the
Light appeared in flash of holy light. Chette of the Light! She challenged
Aradiel to a battle to the death. For the sake of the Light, for the sake
of the elven Princess. She so challenged Aradiel. Dark Lord of Evil.
Great were the battles that took place that day. All who witnessed the
struggle between Light and Dark knew it were an epic tale that they would
pass down to their children and grandchildren.
Aradiel took the form of a dread skeleton. One taller than the Arena
walls. He carried a shovel to dig the graves of the Light. How the Dark
cheered their God."
Sylvene shivered at this point, her gaze traveling to a far off place
before she continued.
"As chaos overtook both the Light and Dark forces and the duels
between champions turned into a great brawl, Rigas and Jopak, a lieutenant
and a scout of Safe Haven managed to make their way to the Princess. While
the backs of the Dark were turned, they led her away. They ran towards
safety. But the Arena is a large place, my children. She never made it
to safety. Just steps away from the only entrance and to safety, her life
was snuffed by the Evil Wizard of the Dark, Ventura. He cast a great spell
from afar, and it struck her down."
"Oh! Poor Princess!"
"I thought she was rescued!"
"Aye… she was. The Holy Cleric of the Light had recovered
and was in the fray once again. He and his band of champions fought their
way to her body and while they protected him, he cast a spell of resurrection.
He brought her fair soul once more to her body and healed her. When the
Princess arose, he took her to safety and took to the fray once again.
The battle of the Gods was fearsome to witness. Many stood in awe as
the Gods fought. The Dark ones were soon in disarray as they saw their
Dark Lord go down. Chette of the Light had slain the Dark Aradiel and
the forces of Light took heart and routed the Dark."
"Good for Chette!"
"Down with the Dark Ones."
"If I were there, I would have stuck my dagger into Aradiel's dark
"The Princess was rescued!"
"Did the Princess marry her champion?"
"Which champion? There were many champions that day, youngling."
"That's sissy talk. Yuck! Marry!"
"Is not! You take that back! Princesses always marry the Prince!"
"Wasn't any Prince in the story. Just champions."
The children, satisfied with their story and tired of sitting still,
ran off to play. Sylvene picked up her embroidery once more, enjoying
the shade of the Willow tree and warmth of the afternoon.
"Sylvene?" a timid voice asked.
Sylvene looked up and saw an older child standing by her, twisting her
fair hair in her fingers.
"Yes, Luna?" she smiled
"Ermm… you've told this story before and the Princess had
been tortured and branded."
"Yes she was, sweetling, with the mark of Innoruuk."
"But… but… you've got a skull on your arm." The
child blurted out. "I… I saw it the other day when you were
swimming in the lake."
Her eyes were wide as her voice dropped to a whisper. "Are…
are you the Princess?"
Sylvene laughed softly. "Hardly, my dear. I am a simple elf maid.
Merely one who likes to tell stories. Now run along. I have much to do
As the child ran off in the bright sunshine, Sylvene dropped her embroidery
into her basket. Brushing back an errant tear, she touched a hand unconsciously
to the mark on her arm.
Quiet applause greeted her ears and she turned.
"Bravo Syl. A story worthy of a Bard. I rather liked the description
Jantis grinned as he rounded the corner of her cottage towards her.
"The Valiant Bard. Shall I strike a heroic pose?"
Sylvene stood up and opened her arms in invitation.
"How do you always know when I am in need of a hug?"
"Of course I know."
He replied, enveloping her in a tight comforting hug.
"Am I not your brother of the heart?"
This is a fan-fiction story set in the world of EverQuest.
Felwithe is the home city of the High Elven race, Innoruuk the God of
Hate.Back to the Prose Gallery