**This is supposed to be a short chapter. It's not an attempt to tease or anything, it was written originally for another purpose and I've added to it to make it stand alone as its own tale. There will be more very soon, but I think it's best here to keep this part of the elf's life a little bit apart from the rest and I don't want the reader to race past the ending of this one piece.
As always, I welcome comments, and if it touches the reader in any way, please don't forget to vote. O_o
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Long before man ventured to what he would later call the New World, others had made the trip before him. There were elves here too.
They lived for a time in pockets scattered in different places on the North and South American continents, and if the indigenous humans here knew of them at all, it was through their own misty legends.
The elves themselves had already learned all they cared to about man and remained distant.
All of that changed as the human population exploded with the influx of people from Europe. Thousands and thousands of square miles of forests fell before a glittering rain of axe blows as the land was cleared by settlers. The elves retreated before the onslaught as they'd done in the Old World before, but some groups stayed longer than others.
One particular elf thought about this long afterward with some bitterness. His own clan had been one of the last to be displaced.
The princess of his clan journeyed to seek for others and left the group in the charge of one very young elf - not yet fully of age, but whose bloodline was high enough to command. None of the group had known, but he'd always loved the young princess from afar. She alone was aware, and had told him to wait for they were both too young at the time of her leaving, especially him.
As a sign of her acknowledgment of the stewardship that he was to provide, she'd tattooed her image on him herself, and he vowed to wait forever if it had to be.
She smiled and kissed him softly, telling him that none could predict the future. "Forever is a long time, even for such as we are. Wait for me as long as you can," she'd said, "I will do my best to return to you. I am sad for the parting and I have my own want of you. If I could, I would proclaim more between us than only this stewardship. In my heart, I want you for my own. Only wait for me and we can begin when I return."
But time passed and no word came to them. The months became years. It took some time, but now and then the others of the clan would seek out their young leader to suggest that it had perhaps become time that they gave up their vigil and made their journey west. At last, he stood before a large group of them and listened as he looked down, considering. There was a long moment of silence, but then he ran his fingers through his long blonde hair once and looking up, he nodded his assent and allowed those who would travel to the mountains in the far west to leave. There was nothing else that he could do for them where they were.
While elves can always rely on their own self-sufficiency, they are still very social beings in their hearts and the young leader was torn. With a heavy heart he made his second choice and watched his people leave without him.
He stayed to await the return of his ruler. He could stay out of the way of the settlers since the rocky ground there in their woods made it almost impossible to farm, and impassable to their wagons.
The solitary elf had learned everything that he could - everything that he'd been taught, he'd absorbed and made the lessons his own knowledge. He'd been left with some writings and he pored over everything endlessly, committing it to his memory with the sad and desperate comprehension that these writings wouldn't last before they faded. With little to distract him, he went over everything and became even more accomplished at living, at survival, and most of all, at mastering the lore and knowledge of the magic of his kind. But it took only a little while before he ran up against the limitations of what he'd been taught.
After that, he worked to grow it into something that might have a place in this new age, something that didn't need the surroundings of the quiet woods to work for him, since the quiet woods themselves were in peril.
He knew that there were no others with which to trade and so he learned to make better bows for himself. The swords that had been left to him were all that he'd likely ever be able to get his hands on and so he cared for these blades better than he cared for himself. With none of his kind around him to help with anything, he did everything for himself, but at the end of every single day, he was faced with the same sadness as he waited for the one that he loved.
He came into his prime all alone.
What he wasn't prepared for was the railroads. The work gangs brought explosives and that changed everything. They could build their right of ways and trestles now, and if they had to move mountains of rock to do that, well that's what they did.