Asira: THE SEA ORC – Prologue-The Tale of a Girl

by Jul 22, 2003Stories

My name is Asira: This is my story.

Asira’s dark hair blew behind her as she and Lissiel walked the familiar paths through Lorien. This was Asira’s last day, and she wished to treasure and cherish it as much as possible. Asira did not wish to leave. For so long she had dwelled in Lorien amidst the fading golden leaves. Yet it was still the most beautiful place in Middle Earth. She could not imagine a different life out of Lorien.

But now she was three hundred growing into a beautiful woman though she did not think so. She was different and was nearly mistaken for an orc at one time. Her skin was dark very unusual for an elf living within the massive trees of Lorien. Her hair was dark another sign that she was awkward. Many of the elven women were shorter than she, blonde, fair, and delicate. She was not fragile such as they, and she was much taller which caused many accidents with her feet. Her features were somewhat masculine but had a beauty of its own. She wondered how she had developed a somewhat tanned skin in a place where sun barely existed. But she had born this ever since she was young, and her father loved her for it. She loved her father as well and could not imagine a life without him since her mother died when she was very young.

She wished she did not have to depart to Valinor. Cirdan wished it so even if it was against Asira’s approval. Ever since her encounter with the orc raiding party within Lorien, he had insisted that she leave as soon as possible. She had been wounded yes, but it was not grevious or fatal. She wondered if parents were always like this with their children. Asira’s mind drifted back to the battle with the orcs. He had been enormous, and he had appeared without warning. He called her a she-orc, and she instantly broke into a battle with him. Asira had been armed simply with an elven dagger, and he a dark sword. Her life had not been taken, but she received a wound upon the back of her neck. It still existed now as a scar she would forever carry.

“Asira?” Lissiel broke her thoughts.

“Yes Lissiel?” Asira answered.

“You know I will not be far behind. I do wish I could accompany you, but Farandil wishes our marriage to take place before we set out for Valinor.”

“I wish I could be here for your wedding. My father insists that we leave as soon as possible.”

“Your father is a good man, Asira. He merely wants what si best for you.”

“I know, but you can not know what it is like to be forcefully driven from your home at such a young age. I am only three hundred and I am leaving Middle Earth. Tis not only that. I do not wish to go to Valinor.”

“Why? I have heard the city is beautiful.”

“Yes,” Asira shrugged. “But I will not be accepted there. Here I can have peace and solititude, but there I can hope to have none. My sisters also dwell there.”

“Your sisters are indeed beautiful.”

“Yes of course they are. They bear my fathers golden hair, and I-” Asira did not finish.

Lissiel took her hand. “My dear friend, is that why you are anxious? You believe you will not be accepted because of your appearance? Shame on you.”

Lissiel’s words sounded like a knife piercing Asira’s heart for she knew they were right and true.

“You are not accepted because of the way you look, it is for who you are. I have loved you as a dear friend because of you. I love your compassion, your spirit, your stubborness, your rashness,” Lissiel smiled. “You use those things for good and for the good of your people. I sense that you will do something incredibly good for your family.”

“Well I do not know what the future holds. I shall surely miss you my friend.”

Asira looked into the west and slowly began to sing. If there was one thing Asira did best, it was her voice. Though her feet were not as good at dancing as she would have liked.

[lI will leave I will leave the woods that bore me
For our days are ending and our years failing.
I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing
Long are the waves on the last shore falling
Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling
In Eressia, in Elvenhome that no man can discover,
Where the leaves fall not, Land of my people forever![/l]


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