Poisoning Apple of Death

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By an open fire, they sat an Elf named Luna.

There in the pine woods of Appledill. Sitting in her lap was Cinder, her only child and the only descent of the Rowan bloodline. Luna was a direct descendant of Solas and the last whole blood of the Rowan line, a race of ancient elves.

She brushed her daughter's long, black, curly hair. Her ruby-red lips were framed by pale skin. Luna told Cinder the tale of her people, a storyline crafted by the hearts of elven leaders. Her voice was soft as she spoke, "This is a story of an apple so pure that its touch was like the gentle snow drifting in the glade. My Cinder darling, long ago, our people thrived in the enchanting parts of the deep woods. Two neighbors of our land were the Kingdom of Appledill and the Kingdom of Riverbend. Both of which were lands of the human race. For as long as I can remember, our people have held a great honor. The honor was to protect the life tree, for it grew a single white apple. This apple held the life force of our people."