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Where Have All The Elves Gone?

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Where Have All The Elves Gone?
Everyone knows Elves don’t exist. Or do they? Daniel Thomas spent years making a career of turning his imagination into the reality of best selling fantasy novels. But times are tough. No one wants to read about elves and dragons anymore. Daniel learns this firsthand when his agent flatly says no to his latest and, what he deems, to be greatest novel yet. Dissatisfied with the turn to zombies and vampire lovers, he takes his manuscript and heads out to confront his agent. His world changes when he finds his agent dying on the floor of her office. Too late to help, he watches as her dead body disintegrates into a pile of ash and dust. Daniel doesn’t have time to ponder what just happened as a band of assassins breaks in, forcing him to flee to the Citadel and the home of the king of the high elves in order to survive. Daniel soon discovers that all of the creatures he once thought he imagined actually exist and are living among us. His revelation comes at a price however, as he is drawn into a murder-mystery that will push him to the edge of sanity and show him things no human has witnessed in centuries.
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A single light from the back of the floor beckoned him. Ariel’s office. He straightened his shirt beneath the jacket and barreled towards the light. Daniel wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard muffled voices followed ominously by a wet smack and a stifled groan. His mind had to be playing tricks on him. First the brutes attacking him in his own driveway, and now this. It was time to get into his comfort clothes and pour a nice stiff glass of Woodford Reserve. A little bourbon would do him some good right about now.

A cut-off scream was followed closely by glass breaking. Old, repressed instincts suddenly took over as his mind decided it was real. Daniel ducked and searched for an attacker. A slender shadow spilled across the beam of yellow light angling down the corridor between cubicles. He briefly considered chasing but knew he was in no condition to. He lacked intel and, more importantly, anything that could be used as a weapon.

Daniel decided his best course of action was to wait until he was sure the way was open and then investigate. He only prayed he would be in time to rescue whoever had screamed. Anxiety got the better of him much sooner than he wanted, and he started to creep forward, using the faded blue cubicle walls for cover. Every sound was amplified — his heartbeat, his footsteps across the spackled tiles. He winced with each new sound, certain the assailant was lurking just around the next corner to silence any witnesses.

Old courage suddenly emerged, from where he could only guess. He circled around in order to get a better angle on the office door. There might be another attacker still inside waiting to spring a trap. Taking chances was pointless, and he wasn’t willing to needlessly risk his life. He wasn’t a hero, despite the latent desire to live out his novels, but that was just fantasy. Anything foolish now might only serve to get him killed. Truth be told, a quiet life stuck in the midst of anonymity held the most draw. That had been reduced to a fragile dream.

Daniel finally got into a position where he could see directly into Ariel’s office. What he saw confirmed his worst fears. The outstretched body lying in a spreading pool of cooling blood could only be Ariel’s. His anger died, replaced by immeasurable sadness and confusion. Why? A pointless question but one he couldn’t help ask. Daniel scanned her body for injuries. The rise and fall of her chest was shallow, but it was still there. She was still alive!

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