I made the trip entirely by foot, knowing it would take me a week. 

I walked through deep spruce forests that were constantly covered by a thick mist, open fields of dry grass and flowers that were like an open ocean with nothing but horizon on each side, over a purple mountain where the ground was so hot, it melted my sandals halfway through their soles. I survived on the food I had brought with me but also some fruits I knew where edible that I picked along the way. Once, I was desperately craving protein so I killed a rabbit which I cooked and ate by my evening fire. At night, I slept on the ground, using my bag of food as a pillow. If it rained, I tried to find shelter, but that wasn't always possible.

All in all, I loved the trip. However, it was overshadowed by the knowledge of why I was doing it. Truth was, I was frightened. I was frightened of not succeeding with what I had set out to do. But more than that, I was frightened I would succeed. I had no idea how I would feel, finding the conserved body of my big brother, that was technically now younger than me as I had aged and he hadn't. He had been dead for eight years, remained fifteen. Was I truly his little brother still?

On the seventh day, I reached a narrow indentation in between two mountains. The mountains were an unusual shade of terracotta red, making me feel as if I was walking through a blood vessel. When I emerged on the other side, I had to stop and take in the view, it was so beautiful. I was on a cliffside between the two mountains, and below me was a golden forest of trees in never-ending autumn shades of orange and yellow, dotted with some red, even. Small lakes were glittering all over the scenery, creating an incredible contrast to all that orange. On the mountainside where I was standing were flowers of dove blue and yellow and white, perfuming the air with their mild, sweet smell.

But most impressive of all was the castle. Salmon orange, it sprung out of the mountainside on the other side of the valley, a little to my left. The brown stone of its uneven tile roofs glistened in the sun after yesterday's rain as the roofs shot up into the clouds. Some towers were made completely of crystal. In the middle was one tower made of crystals of all different colours, and it was the highest one of all. The sun shone behind the castle, causing the rainbow tower to cast a kaleidoscopic pattern on the autumn forest. I stood for a while, contemplating the complexity of how lucky I was to experience all of this, yet wishing I never had to, considering the reason behind it.

I walked down into the autumn forest and decided to undress and jump into one of the lakes to wash my body and hair with the small bar of soap I had brought, meanwhile trying to figure out how to get into the castle. As I bathed, I noticed a narrow staircase carved out in the mountain wall, which I climbed up once I was dried, had combed my hair into a high ponytail and changed into the clean trousers and robe I had brought.

I walked up the narrow steps, that in places were so steep I had to use my hands. I got shivers in my palms and in the soles of my feet when I thought about falling backwards, but kept going. After a good while of climbing, the stairs opened up onto a vast field of short-cut, emerald green grass. The grass and the perfectly circular bushes on it were the only green in the autumn valley, making it feel as if though your eyes got a rest from all those fire colours. On the other end of the field was the entrance to the castle.

He's here, I thought. Please, please let me have him back. Let me have him back so I can bury him with our parents.

I walked towards the entrance, where two elven guards were watching me approach. They were clad in beautiful, ruby-red robes with golden details, both of them with short hair showing off their pointed ears. It always struck me how tall these creatures were. I was one eighty-eight, so I was fairly tall for a human, yet barely reached up to the chest of the elves. Not to mention they were naturally both wider and stronger than me. I swallowed, put my hand on my back to feel my sword. It felt oddly comforting, this sword that had caused me so much trouble. As soon as I lay a hand on it, it hummed beneath my skin.

"What is your business here?" one of the elves asked. Their voices were melodic, their use of the common language of Anderion pleasant to the ears. The short hair of the elf who had spoken was thick, wavy and brown, and he had some freckles on his high cheekbones.

"I am here to meet the king", I said.

"The king has no interest in visitors. Especially not a simple man like yourself."

I swallowed back my anger.

"I have been asked to come."

Then, the other elf spoke. He was blonde, his hair of a softer quality, his lips thinner than the first. I couldn't decide which one of them was more beautiful.

"We have no time for the likes of you", he said.

At this, I drew my sword. It basically sang in my left hand. I swallowed; this was my first time in combat since I was ten. I hadn't even practiced, just as the king had asked. 

"I don't have time for you either. It's beneath me to argue with racists like yourselves. I will just force my way in."

The guards looked at each other, eyebrows raised. Then, they turned to me. One of them drew his sword. That would be the greatest mistake of their lives; if only they had both drawn their swords, they might've lasted long enough to realise I was too good for them so they could surrender and let me in. I didn't know it at the time, but I would realise that even if five of them approached me, they wouldn't stand a chance for even a second.

I stepped one foot back, turned around on the other and put all of the force into my left arm, bending my body to avoid the sword of the blonde guard who I was battling, then sliced his arm off. Before the other even had time to understand what had happened, I had twirled once more and sliced the foot off him. The twirls were a technique I'd learned by eavesdropping at the training sessions of the warriors of my village; the elven flesh and bones were much coarser than that of humans, and as we were so much smaller, extra force was required. But my sword sliced through their limbs so easily, I doubted I needed the technique. Was this the power of the amethyst in my sword? What more, I noticed the elves weren't bleeding. Something was different with the sword from last time I had used it.

I touched it, and immediately let go; the blade was white-hot, having burned the end of the blood vessels as I cut the limbs of the elves, amputating them neatly without causing them to bleed. The elves looked at me. I was just as surprised as they were; after all these years, I hadn't lost a single drop of my abilities, and the sword felt like a part of my soul. 

"What are you?" one of them, the brown-haired one without a foot, asked from where they both lay fallen on the ground.

"A simple man", I said. "And I'm going in to see the king. Please, get him for me. Tell him my name is Izuna."