A quiet, sleeping town, hidden in the depths of the forest, carpeted by a thick blanket of snow. An elf town. Guarded by the strongest elves. This peculiar little town was ruled by one of the kindest, most beautiful elves that you could imagine, yet with a strong, encouraging heart and a unique power of bravery. The elves were tiny, but with such believing souls, that they could accomplish almost anything. ‘It doesn’t matter who you are, there is always a hero in you’ – is what their Queen Elf would say to them in a powerful voice.
“But what about the Orcs? They will attack us soon; I can feel it and I can smell them. They are coming,” said a strong voice from the crowd. A tall, male elf was clutching a bow tightly in his hand and the sack on his back was filled with sharp glinting arrows. His sword was tucked into his scabbard and his spear was in his other hand. He wore a short, white, snowy hat that sat neatly on his head, glistening and proud. But there was fear in his eyes.
The Orcs were terrible, mythical creatures that only came out to attack or hunt at night. But here they were not a legend. They were real.
“Do not fear them, young elf,” replied the Elf Queen. “For I have a cunning plan.” She tapped her nose and smiled.
But she was suddenly interrupted by a familiar noise of deafening screeching. The Orcs were already here.
And so they came, fighting and yelling. The grins on their horrible faces showing off their distinctively nasty, yellow, rotten teeth and their big eyes suddenly narrowed until they were sharp slits. They laughed evilly and charged, their gooey, green bodies glimmering, all slithery. There was a blood-curdling scream as someone chopped their head off –
“Katherine! Wake up! It’s time to go to school!” yelled Mum, shaking and shoving me around the bed. I sat bolt upright and groaned. I must have slept through my alarm.
“You were screaming, now get changed quickly, I’ve made you some toast,” hurried Mum.
At school, I daydreamed and didn’t listen at all to what Mrs Martinez was telling us. When she asked me what the Capital of Wales was, I mumbled, “Africa” and everyone burst out laughing, but Mrs Martinez didn’t think it was funny. She said that I would be staying at lunch. At that point I dropped my pencil so I leaned down under my table to reach for it.
Then, something very strange happened and it sent a chill down my spine. Under My table, was the same hat that the elf had worn in my dream. I smiled secretly to myself. Pondering, I thought, maybe. But you never know . . .