As thunder rumbled on the western horizon, the elf stopped weeding the kitchen garden and straightened up -- as much as his diminutive stature allowed.
From a kneeling position, the young man turned his pretty face to the sky and wondered whether the growling to the west meant that the spring rains had arrived.
The dry fields and pastures of his home valley really needed several days of soaking rain. This hot and dry spell they were going through threatened to scorch the whole country.
The elf could do with a good soaking rain himself to cool himself off and to flush away the sweat, salt, and dust from his sun-bronzed skin. That would be more welcome than his usual evening shower with soap and water heated by the sun. The elves placed a high value on cleanliness and personal hygiene.
Whatever the practicalities of it, the elf would rather stand out in the open fully exposed and let cool rain sluice all over him. How wonderful that always felt, to turn his face upwards, eyes closed, as the falling waters plastered his raven locks to his head.
He took pleasure in the flow of the life-giving waters over his slender young body, cleansing and cooling him and touching his body everywhere at once like a lover with a hundred hands. Rain was a gift of nature, one to which he willingly opened himself every chance he got.
The young man had no concern about getting caught out in the ray since he never bothered with clothing, spending his days perpetually nude as did all young males among the elves. "Skin clad," they called it. And though perpetual nudity made him careful of thorns and thistles, he had no worries about insect bites or stings.
The gods or wizards who had brought humans and elves and the other races to this planetary refuge aptly named Haven had deliberately not brought along any of the stinging, biting, or just plain verminous bugs that had infested the environmentally depleted, war torn, and worn-out worlds from which they had fled.
They did bring along good bugs -- pollinating insects like honey bees and butterflies -- but no bloodsucking mosquitos, no biting horse flies, no stinging scorpions or poisonous spiders either.
After a disappointed glance at the sky as the last rumble of thunder faded without result, the elf bent to his mundane tasks, once again engrossed in the satisfying work of tending to growing things: planting, hoeing, weeding, pruning, staking, and watering. Everything thrived under his care.
It was no coincidence that his own large, slightly slanted eyes were the same green as growing things. Like most sentients on the planet, he had a modest magical gift, which in his case was a green thumb. No wonder he got such good results.
He did not mind getting down and dirty with the reddish brown soil in those parts, sinking to the earth on hands and knees. So what if his knees and feet and hands got soiled or dust settled on his sweaty flanks and chest and back or streaked his face.
It was top soil, good earth, the perfect medium for growing things. Top soil had a clean, pleasant smell to it, which brought him closer to the land, a sensuous connection to this planet of Haven.
He much preferred tending the earth than tending to livestock. Farm animals were messy and smelly and often had contrary personalities. He let his older brothers take care of the milch cow, the goats and the sheep, and the ducks. Mostly vegetarians, elves raised animals only for their milk and fiber and eggs, never their flesh, though elves would eat fish.
Engrossed in his gardening, the youth was startled when he heard a voice in his head, without a sound reaching his ears.
"Hi there, elf!"
"What?" he exclaimed out loud, never having experienced mind speech before. Still, Dahl was more curious than apprehensive. He knew that several races could speak mind to mind, including human wizards and healers, though the gift was rare among elves.
"Get to your feet, little one, and come over to the large oak next to the hedgerow. I would like to converse with thee."
Apprehensive but curious about what kind of being could call to him mentally, he walked over to the big oak, ignoring the gravel and grit under his bare feet. Elves develop thick calluses that protect them nearly as well as moccasins.
By the hedgerow, he found a horse of noble lines waiting for him, one with a brilliant white coat and green eyes. Once it stepped out of the shadows, he could clearly see the long spiral horn growing out of its forehead, the weight counterbalanced by a rearward bulge of the skull to house a large brain. This was no horse then, but that rarest of equines, a unicorn.
A stallion the size of a light riding horse, it stood sixteen hands at the withers, a full hand higher than the crown of the diminutive elf's head. By reputation peaceable though fearsome fighters when provoked, the unicorn more stirred the young man's curiosity than his apprehension.
"Sir Unicorn," for such the elf deemed it wise to address so noble a creature. "What would you have of me? Shall I fetch my father? He is the master of these lands."
"No, young man, for it is with you. I wish to speak. You are the elf I sensed from afar; you must be. Though with that long black hair of yours, I can not see the pointed ears characteristic of elves, and you are quite short for an elf, but it must be you that I am looking for."
"Well, I am indeed an elf, Sir Unicorn, though a young one and small in stature for my years. I have just twenty-three summers" he said, sweeping his hair back to let the equine see the pointed ears characteristic of elves, ears that elves could actually cock toward a sound to hear it better, much like cats only not so flexible.
"But my name is Dahlderon, though everyone just calls me Dahl."
"Yes, Dahlderon, the very person I was sent to seek out. And I am named Meirionnydd, but you may call me Merry, as I shall call you Dahl. Here, step into full sunlight that I may see you better."
Dahl complied as the unicorn, standing as straight and tall as his height of five feet one allowed. The elf was proud of the trim and taut body he had so recently grown into. Nor was he embarrassed to display the manly parts, which gave him so much pleasure these days.
Dahl had a beautiful body, slender yet muscular, tanned, taut, and toned with good shoulders, a ripped torso with corrugated abdominals, a flat belly, and narrow hips.
He had one of those impossibly small waists you could almost put your hands around, which flared to a pert rump, with small but firm and shapely buns. No hair interrupted the flow of his faultless lines. Elves never grew body hair, even at the fork of the legs, and were beardless all their lives.
The unicorn could see that the young man was a treasure. From his tiny red nipples to a deeply indented navel, to narrow hips framing a surprisingly ample manhood for one so slight in build, he was real beauty.
His wiry physique carried so little body fat that his flat belly showed a tracery of downward pointing veins just under the skin. The beat of his heart showed on the left side of his chest.
"If you please, turn around slowly that I may see all of you, Dahl."
The elf complied, glad for a chance to show off the rest of his beautiful body. He knew he had a fine round rump. Everyone told him as much. The truth is that the elf was a natural exhibitionist.
From the rear, Dahl was all curves: the calves, the thighs, the globes of the buttocks, the swale of the lower back, the slope up to the shoulder blades which formed winglets on his upper back. He had a fine coltish build on him with legs that were strong though slender.
The unicorn knew that elves were good runners. It was a much as part of them as of any antelope or equine for that matter. It was one of the things that had always bonded unicorns to elves.
"Yes, I see the druids have chosen well, young Dahlderon. Physical beauty like yours is always an outward sign of good bloodlines and a healthy constitution. Know then that you will accompany me to the Great Southern Forest to begin your training, you and the others like you. My task is to help you brave the dangers that no doubt will arise during the long journey."
"Chosen? Druids? Great Forest? What do you mean. I am not going anywhere!" the elf exclaimed.