On an otherwise ordinary early August afternoon I took a disused dirt path into the wilderness. I needed a reprieve from my everyday existence. Nature could offer that. I carried supplies enough for several days on my back and water enough for several more. My company in the coming days would be the birds. No one apart from them knew where I was. The trail was carved into the side of a mountain. There was a steep cliff to one side and a rock face to the other. I set up my camp in the widest spot I could find.
The days past entirely too quickly. But on the morning of my final day, as I drank the last of the coffee, I heard a tremendous thundering crash. A landslide had made the way back impassable. The precipice precluded any possibility of going 'round.
In the absence of any alternative, I packed and pressed onward. At noon the trail reached the valley floor, and I ventured off the path to try and chart my way back through the forest. It wasn't long before I was utterly lost.
At dusk I'd reached a meadow. There, surrounded by fields of red and purple columbine, was a white wooden cottage. When I knocked on the door, a barefooted blond in a glimmering blue dress and matching blue eyes answered it. Her skin was fair and flawless. She had me instantly spellbound.
"Good evening," I said starting at a lurch, "Can you help me?" I briefly explained my predicament. When I finished she reached out and put her soft hand on my cheek. Her warmth spread through me in giddy waves.
"I can," she said, "but it's getting late. Would you like to stay here tonight?"
I could only nod yes. She took my hand and led me inside. When she turned I noticed her pointed ears through her long hair.
"Your ears," I managed to stutter.
"Yes," she said, "I'm an elf."
I became afraid. It was common knowledge. Elves cast spells that ensnared men before they whisked them from the world forever. My every thought was to run, but with her hand coiled around mine-warm, gentle-her beauty enraptured me.
"I think I like you," she whispered into my ear. I shuddered. She giggled. "I suppose you can't help being scared," she said, "but there's no need to worry. It's cold outside. Come in, and we'll have some hot cocoa."
Her voice resonated on the perfect tone. She seemed nice, genuine. I doubted she would harm me. I was reassured. Besides-I reasoned-it was very cold, and I was very weary.
I followed her inside, and she showed me to a small, ornate oak table. She drew up a chair courteously.
The cocoa she served me was rich and creamy, probably the best I've ever had. "What's your name," I asked politely.
"Adria," she answered. "Yours?"
"Hans. How long have you lived here, Adria?" I tried to make friendly conversation.
