Title: Walshe, My Star

Email: Velesia@gmail.com

Story:
Walshe rubbed his face and looked again, with tired eyes, at his most prized possession. The half-blood child of a randy elf and a depressed farmgirl, he found himself most peaceful when surrounded by neither his litter of siblings nor his father's "noble folk", but by himself. It was funny really, that such a strange creature as he should have ended up with something of such value. The Star of Endora was sister to the Star of Evangorre, the second of which fostered his father's clan. Given at weddings and birth ceremonies, stars were often attached to jewelry or relics such as the glass pendant which housed Endora. The flickering light, like him, was much more powerful than it humbly appeared to be, but that was part of a star's charm.
"Walshe!" his father's voice was followed shortly by a crash of branches. Wait - his father the elf, was crashing through branches? "Walshe... my star, my star..."
Literally falling into his son, the elf exhaustedly began to lose conciousness. "Father - wake up!" the young man shook his sire's body to seemingly no avail.
"...Walsh, my star, you must bring your birth-gift to Evangorre... please..." said the elf quietly before passing out. Walshe wasted no time bringing his father to the ramshackle hut his mother called home, but was infinitely perplexed by his father's words. Go to Evangorre? Well, if he said so, if they were his last words they might be important.

* * *

The journey to the Elf city was a quick one, he knew the path from the many times he had followed his miscreant father home. He had hoped so desperately that the elf would show approval for his skill at silence and grace, but his father had only laughed and joked with him.
Hearing the counselor tell him now that his father had been one of the Elf king's most loyal servants was indeed a little surprising, Walshe could never imagine his father serving anyone. However, the counselor seemed to be worried.
"Young Walshe, your BirthGift is a relic of ancient times." The Elf explained. "Passed down through the ages to young Elves who, in times past, swore their lives to the star in order to receive it. You, however, received the star because your father - while a commoner – had the gift of prophecy. He Saw that our proud race would come under attack, and realized the only way to hid this sister-relic, was to pass it into the hands of someone who would mute it's power."
"Me." Walshe replied, a little bitter that he had never known this.
"Any half-blood, really," the counselor replied casually, "but he insisted on giving it to one of his children, and particularly you." Walshe felt as if - he were going to blush. How could he have mis-read his father's affections all these years?
"Now, youngling," the counselor interrupted, "since you have the sister star, you must be the one to retrieve the relic of Evangorre. Your journey must be swift, let us confer..." But Walshe was preoccupied with realizing how much he had meant to his father after all. If his father felt he could so trust him, then he would not prove him wrong.

Comments: Hope y'all like it, just something I threw together!