That up there is what Astrena is supposed to look like. It isn't my own drawing but she does look like this.

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CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Those sounds repeated over and over as hammer met metal, molding it into what would become a longsword. Those sounds were the only things that I could really pay attention to. CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! goes the metal.

I'm Astrena, a blacksmith and a curiosity to the people of the town. After all, Elves are rare in these parts making Half-Elves like myself all the more scarce. The people here, however, learned long ago not to talk about the difference of my race. My father is the only Blacksmith in town and was often visited by soldiers and such from all over the land.

However, those people were few and far between. No one really noticed our village and most would just pass it by unless it was a traveler stopping for the inn.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! it could have been days or only minutes, but the sword was nearing its completion, and when it was done I would be left to my own habits.

As much as I love my father, I love to wander the forest outside of the village even more. My mother, a Wood Elf, died when I was born. My mother's sister despises me but is kept in my reach only for honoring my mother's last wish to look after me. The forest has become my home as much as the forge has become my heart.

CLANG! CLANG! The last strikes ring in the air as I put the sword in a barrel of water, hissing noises filling the room. "Papa!" I yell. "Papa!"

A grunt from the front room tells me that he's listening.

"Papa, I've finished the sword. Would you mind if I take a break?"

Again, he grunts in acknowledgment. "Just be sure to come back before sundown. Can't have the cook running off before supper." He chuckles.

"No, we couldn't. I imagine you would accidentally turn the food into poison with the state of your cooking." I snorted back.

I grab the only coat we own, a shabby brown thing with multiple patches and fraying badly around the sleeves. It's made of thick wool to protect me from the ravages of an early spring storm, and I walk out. I rush past the inn and around to the center of the village where a pine that is as thick around as two townhouses and as tall as Three of the biggest statues rests. It's the only tree in the clearing we call "Grandi Pini" village.

As I run toward the forest paths, I scan the area for anything that might be lurking near them. Satisfied that there isn't anything that can harm me, I continue forward. The rocks of the square slowly turn into gravel and tightly packed dirt from the many feet that found their way here. Then, when I'm staring through the path, I think I see a glint of color flutter in the bushes. But when I turn to look, all I can see is the brush and small buds of flowers that will start to bloom in a few days time.

So I carry on down the path until I see the familiar bolder with curling purple moss at the top. Next to it is a small carving, that one wouldn't notice unless they knew exactly where to look. It's the small shape of a bird etched in stone. From there, I turn down a small path that doesn't even appear to exist at all, a small line of damp grass that has been stepped on.

I travel on it for around ten minutes until I find myself in a small clearing with a pond that appears to be made of glass, reflecting the trees of the forest perfectly, no ripples disturbing the surface - even with the heavy rainfall. Bad weather never seems to be able to reach this place. Humming as I approach, I hear a small bird pick up the tune, and soon hear it all around me. I walk over to look at the pond as I've done many times before.

When I look I see a girl with a slender face framed by curls of short blonde hair. The person looking back is stunningly beautiful, but her face is marred by a scar running through her left brow and a second one on her right cheek. The scars, however, look almost non-existent when I see calculating yet humorous violet eyes staring back, examining every inch of my face.

Looking at the figure's hands, I see burns and cuts running the length of them. The person looking back is beautiful even with scars covering almost every inch of exposed skin. She is beautiful and breathtaking. And I hate it. Knowing that the person I see is really myself is no comfort when I think of her as beautiful, maybe even elegant.

"Why couldn't you look normal for one day in your entire life?" I ask the reflection bitterly. But of course, it doesn't reply. The height of the girl is even worse than the looks she has. At best, she could only be around five feet tall. Unusually short and beautiful beyond reason for all the scars she has.

"If I was a normal girl, I could have normal friends and no one would look at me like I was a queen when I gave them something in the shop. They would simply thank me, give me a Manre or two and leave." I tell the reflection matter-of-factly.

I stand there glaring at the girl for a few minutes before deciding to head back. The storm has calmed down to a drizzle with only the occasional gust of wind to interrupt the silence. So grudgingly, I turn to leave when I spot a flash of color fluttering closer and closer to me. I stumble back in surprise and yelp loudly when I trip over a clump of raised dirt falling backward. I feel a searing pain in the back of my head when it lands on a rough-edged rock. Then my world gets darker and I pass out.

I shift slightly and groan as the movement sends a spark of pain through my head. Slowly I open my eyes to see deep blue wells staring at me.

"Good. You're not dead." The owner of the wells says in a deep voice that is both scratchy and melodious at the same time. What startles me about them isn't that they were there for me to wake up, but the fact that their skin is made of scales and is a shiny metallic silver. Their flowing white hair covers some or their face but that doesn't hide the reptilian features they have. A tail flicks ever so slightly in the corner of my vision.

"Your eyes are beautiful," Is my ever so smart response. I blush at my words, but he just chuckles and stands. "Sorry... Uh... Sorry but if you don't mind my asking, who are you?" I ask, still blushing from my comment.

"Erlibis, Dragonborn," He says, chuckling even more at my blush " What about you, little lady? What's your name? And why were you on the ground in the first place" Erlibis asks, tone growing slightly serious.

"Butterfly," I said, slightly fearful. "I'm Astrena, a Half-Elf. And just because you're, like, seven feet tall doesn't make me little. And I am definitely not a lady." Annoyance creeping into my voice. I had been teased by other kids about my height for a great deal of my life and didn't take kindly to being called 'little'.

"Course," He said his chuckle coming back, "Would you happen to know if the village down there is Grandi Pini? I need a place to stay and some dinner as well I suppose."I look at him with a little sympathy, and some pride as well. Most travelers don't even know what our village is called because it's so out of the way from other towns and roads.This stranger knowing what our village is called makes me able to forget the short comment for now.

"Yes, that's Grandi Pini. If you need a place to stay the inn is right across the way from the Blacksmiths. Four Manre a night, six for food service, and twelve for a locker to hold your items." He looks slightly upset with the prices, and I can't blame him. Expenses for housing doesn't come cheap.

"I'll walk with you if you want. After all, I'm going to almost the same place."He just nods and we start walking along, my head throbbing painfully with each step. To keep my mind off the pain, I start up my humming once again, and the birds around us start to pick it up and it echos throughout the trees. Erlibis just looks at me curiously and then turns away. We don't talk again for the rest of the walk.