The newborn's scream shattered the stillness of the night. In tree houses and ground huts, the neighboring elves heard the cries of the baby and took note with both joy and sadness in their hearts. They closed their eyes and tried to return to sleep, but most of them lay awake with feelings of shame and dread.

Not far from the newborn's home, King Saratoya sat up and stared into the darkness. For several long minutes he listened to the cries of the infant, and a bittersweet smile crept across his lips. The elven king glanced out the window at the stars hanging in the inky black sky.

"A couple of hours before dawn," he murmured to himself as he stood up and got dressed. "They could have timed that a bit better."

The king sighed deeply, the burden of his office feeling especially heavy as he remembered his joy at the birth of his own son. He shook his head and left his sleeping quarters. Saratoya made his way to the eating room and grabbed a piece of bread. He sat down quietly and listened to the faint cries still coming from the nearby hut. As he listened, he heard soft footsteps approaching. The king's face darkened and his posture stiffened as he realized that his twenty-year-old son was approaching.

"So you heard it, too," the elven prince greeted his father.

"As did everyone for quite a distance," King Saratoya replied stoically. "The birth of an elf does not go unnoticed."

"It might," Prince Elengal retorted hopefully. "It just might."

"Do not start this again," scowled the king. "You know the law."

"The law?" balked the prince. "It is not our law. It is the empire's law."

"And we of the Elfwoods are subject to it," the king countered firmly. "How many times must we have this conversation?"

"As many times as it takes until you agree to act like the king you are supposed to be," snapped Prince Elengal.

King Saratoya stiffened visibly and his hands curled into fists, but he did not strike out at his son. For a brief moment, the two men glared across the table at each other. Eventually, the king sighed and shook his head.

"Sit down," he ordered authoritatively.

The prince hesitated only a moment before obeying his father. He knew that he came dangerously close to crossing the line with his comments, but he felt strongly that he was in the right.

"You have been a good son to me, Elengal," the king said softly, "and you will make a fine king someday, but there are some areas where you need refinement. Being a king means more than doing whatever you want to. Sometimes it means doing things that you detest, but you do whatever must be done to serve your people."

Prince Elengal began to glower at the coming lecture, and the king reached across the table and grasped his son's hand.

"I know that we have talked about this before," the king continued, "but try actually listening to the thoughts behind my words this time. You owe it to our people to understand how things are in Elfwoods. Will you try to see things through my eyes?"

Prince Elengal felt his father's comforting grasp and knew that the king was sincere in his desire, no matter how misguided he might be. The prince's glower softened, and he nodded silently.

"Good," smiled the king. "I know that you find the laws of the empire distasteful. We all do, but the repercussions for violating them are severe. It is the law that we must give up each newborn to the empire. Do you know why that is the law?"

"So the emperor can taunt us with his power," the prince snapped a little too forcefully.

"He has no need to taunt us," the king replied with a slight shaking of his head. "He takes our children so that we will obey his laws and do his bidding."

"But why should we do his bidding?" retorted the prince. "Why should we slave in the mines for an emperor who despises us and steals our children?"

"Because if we don't," the king replied, "we will all die. Do you really wish to bring about the extinction of the elves?"

"Perhaps that would be better than being slaves," answered the prince.

"Would it?" retorted the king. "Ask that question of a dwarf when next you see one."

"The dwarves are all dead," countered the prince, "and good riddance to them."

"Indeed," nodded the king. "Good riddance to them, but the point is, they are gone. It is easy enough for a young man to be obstinate and bold such as you are, but what about the people we serve? Do all of them agree with you? Are they all willing to die to satisfy your stubborn pride? Will you be the type of ruler who can watch over their deaths without shedding a tear?"

The prince fell silent with a confused look on his face. He had not considered how the other elves might feel, and the king recognized his son's hesitancy for what it was. He pushed onward.

"Are you willing to explain your defiance to a man watching his wife die?" asked the king. "Or a woman watching her brothers and sisters being sacrificed to make a political statement? Can you truly be so heartless?"

"But we are slaves," the prince retorted with less defiance than before.

"Quite true," the king agreed. "We are slaves, and our masters are cruel, but unlike the dwarves, we still have life. Our hopes for a better future are slim, but still we cherish those dreams. Do not let your harsh reactions take away those small slivers of hope. They are all that our people have to cling to."

The king squeezed his son's hand before withdrawing his own hand. The prince looked up with teared eyes and nodded to his father.

"I do understand what you are trying to do for our people," he said haltingly, "but I cannot see myself ever doing the same. Half of the elven children taken from us never return."

"But the other half does," countered the king. "We are told that those who do not return have chosen to remain among the humans."

"And you believe them?" scowled the prince.

"I choose to believe them," the king replied. "While I understand that the Baroukans may not be telling us the truth, I would have a hard time coping with the misery the truth might bring me. So yes, I believe their lies. The fact is, I am glad when a single one of our people returns, for that is more than I expected from the empire."

"Perhaps I am not fit to be king then," Prince Elengal declared. "I love you dearly, Father, and I know that you believe that you are doing what is best, but I could never bring myself to give up our children. I just could never do it."

"You can," the king smiled thinly, "and you will. I understand the passions of youth. I once had them myself. You are a fine man, Elengal, and the elves will be fortunate to have you on the throne someday, but I advise you to walk softly and cautiously until that time. You have much to learn yet."

The king rose and the prince quickly stood.

"Where are you going?" asked Prince Elengal.

"I am going to remind Befraya that her child must be presented at dawn," stated the king. "Even as tired as she might be, I thought she might want to stay up and at least enjoy a couple of hours with the baby before it is taken from her."

"I will go," offered the prince. "If I am to learn how the people feel about our current customs, I should start right away."

The king's gaze narrowed slightly, and he remained silent for a moment, as if he were weighing a mighty decision. Finally, he nodded.

"Very well," the king said softly, "but remember our talk. There is much more involved here than a single child."

"I understand, Father," smiled the prince.

The king reached for a piece of paper as the prince left the room and headed to a small hut not far away. Prince Elengal knocked lightly on the door. Hushed voices drifted out the window, and a frown fell over the prince's face. He raised his hand to knock again when the door opened a crack.

"Now is not a good time to visit," a man's voice declared. "The baby has finally gotten back to sleep. Come back in the morning."

"Morning is only two hours away, Lanole," Prince Elengal stated as he peered through the crack. "I was just coming to remind you to present the baby in the morning. Father thought you might want to stay awake and enjoy whatever time you have."

"We'll do just that," the baby's father replied. "I will talk to you later today, Elengal."

The door closed and the prince stared at it in surprise. Lanole was only a few years older than the prince, and they had become fast friends when Lanole returned from the empire. Something was amiss. They had never had such a curt conversation before. Besides, it had appeared to the prince that Lanole was fully dressed. The prince backed away from the hut in confusion.

For several long minutes, the prince stood silently, staring at the small hut. He heard the baby's murmurs as well as hushed conversations. Nodding his head in understanding, Prince Elengal turned and headed into the trees. Hiding in a thicket alongside the path, the prince waited.

A few minutes later, Prince Elengal saw the couple stealthily moving along the path. Befraya carried the baby, and Lanole carried a heavy pack on his back. The prince stepped out of the thicket and blocked their path.

"I thought you might be leaving before dawn," the prince said accusingly. "You know that you are violating the law."

"What if we are?" Lanole retorted defiantly. "I am not going to send my son to the emperor as I was sent by my parents. Get out of our way."

"You can't do this, Lanole," countered Prince Elengal. "I understand how you feel, but others will pay a heavy price for your actions."

"You understand how I feel?" snarled Lanole. "Don't make me laugh. You never had to be turned over to the empire. Oh, no. You are the royal son after all. You are exempt from the law."

Prince Elengal was taken aback by his friend's comments. While it was true that the royal family was exempt from that particular law, it surely wasn't Elengal's fault that he had been allowed to stay in Elfwoods.

"I thought we were friends," the prince replied. "Your tone to me is one of hatred."

"Not hatred," Lanole shook his head, "but there is a certain irony that one so privileged as you would be the one to stand in my way. You of all people should be helping us to escape."

"I wanted to," admitted the prince. "I just argued with my father to let you hide the baby, but he is adamant. I think I finally understand why."

"Well, good for you," scowled Lanole. "I am sure you can accept the reasons given, as your child will also be exempt, as you were. You and I used to talk about having a king with guts. Now you appear to be following in your father's footsteps. I pity the people who will have to follow you."

"That is harsh," frowned the prince. "And unfair. You know that I hate the empire as much as you do."

"Hardly," snapped Lanole. "I spent twenty years with them. You have only heard stories of the misery. I have lived it."

"Help us," pleaded Befraya. "Help us escape or get out of our way. I will not surrender my child to the empire. I would rather die."

Prince Elengal turned to stare into the young woman's eyes. She also had spent twenty years outside the bounds of Elfwoods. There was fear in her eyes, and yet a glimmer of something else as well. It was hope, a hope for a better future, and the king's words flashed through the prince's mind again, although the meaning had changed slightly. The couple standing before the prince had a glimmer of hope that they were clinging to. It was just such a glimmer that the king had mentioned, and the prince could not bring himself to crush it.

"Run hard and run fast," the prince said softly as he stepped aside. "I will try to cover for you."

Befraya stepped close and kissed the prince for only a moment before Lanole tugged her arm. Elengal watched the couple run through the trees until they disappeared into the darkness.

Thoughts raced through the prince's mind as he turned and headed back towards the village. One part of his mind hoped that the empire would just not notice the absence of a pregnant elf, while the other contemplated what he would say to his father. The latter thoughts sent a chill up his spine, but he mentally vowed to be honest with his father.  Still, he was not anxious to rush back for the confrontation.

Prince Elengal walked slowly, meandering through the village as the sky began to lighten. As he approached his father's home, he saw the king standing in front of it. A quick glance at his father's eyes told the prince that his secret was a secret no longer. He cast his eyes at the ground before him as he walked towards his father.

"Tell me about it," the king said softly.

"I tried to stop them, Father," Prince Elengal said. "Truly I did, but I am too weak. Both of them have known the horrors of being taken away, and I do not. How could I argue when they said that they preferred death to complying with the law?"

Prince Elengal expected his father to be furious, but the king stretched out his hand and placed it comfortingly on the prince's shoulder. Elengal looked up and saw a deep sadness in his father's eyes.

"It is important that you tried to stop them," King Saratoya said calmly. "While you may have been weak-willed this night, that soon will pass. The important thing is that you learn what sacrifices must be made to ensure your people's survival. You will learn that soon enough."

The prince's brow creased in confusion, and a cold dread invaded his every pore. There was an ominous tone in his father's voice that he had never heard before.

"Maybe the empire will not notice them gone," offered the prince.

"The emperor always knows more than we credit him with knowing," the king replied with a shake of his head. "There will be a heavy price to pay for the deeds of this morning, but perhaps that payment will ensure the survival of our people for another generation."

The prince didn't understand his father's words, but he did not have time to dwell upon them either. A loud commotion rippled through the wakening village as the sun rose over the horizon. Elves rushed to the center of the village as gray-clad soldiers entered from every direction. King Saratoya marched dutifully to the village square, and Prince Elengal followed.

The soldiers halted as they formed a ring around the village square. The ring opened briefly to admit a huge creature. The creature was a thing of the deepest black, but its skin twinkled with reflected sunlight, as would a shiny piece of coal. The creature was human, yet not human, for it stood taller than any man, and its eyes were devoid of life.

King Saratoya immediately dropped to one knee and bowed his head to the creature. Its head swiveled, taking in the rest of the gathered villagers as if waiting for them to do the same. And do the same they did. One by one the elves mimicked King Saratoya and dropped to a knee and bowed their heads.

"The laws of the empire have been broken," bellowed K'san. "Bring forth the violators."

Prince Elengal glanced towards the commotion as a woman's scream rent the air. King Saratoya rose and Prince Elengal followed suit. He watched as soldiers shoved Lanole and Befraya roughly towards the square. Lanole stumbled and fell, and two soldiers picked him up and propelled him forward. The small procession halted directly in front of K'san. The elves all rose to their feet to watch what would happen.

The beast's hand shot out with amazing speed and snatched the baby from Befraya's arms. The young woman screamed in horror, but the creature ignored her. It casually tossed the baby to a soldier.

"Befraya and Lanole have violated the laws of the empire," the creature declared. "Who knows the penalty for this crime?"

The entire village was frozen in silence. No one dared to answer the question, and the creature merely smirked at their humiliation.

"The penalty," declared the beast, "is the death of ten elven children in the custody of the empire. Can any of you deny that?"

No one spoke.

"K'san," King Saratoya broke the silence, "the young are often impetuous and foolhardy. As the sun has just broken the horizon, and you have the baby in custody, no harm has really been done."

The creature cocked its head and stared at the elven king. "No harm?" it bellowed. "No harm? It is clear that the couple sought to take what belongs to the empire. Further," K'san added as his eyes pierced into Prince Elengal's eyes, "they had help."

Prince Elengal's blood chilled, and his throat swelled with fear. Never in his lifetime had one of the K'sans appeared in the Elfwoods, but he had heard stories about the creatures. He had dismissed those stories as myths, even when his father had stated otherwise. The prince looked at his father with a new profound respect. Suddenly the prince understood exactly why the king had been acting the way he had, for the methods of King Saratoya were the only ways of ensuring the survival of the elves.

"Who among you want to offer up your children in payment for the crimes of Lanole and Befraya?" asked K'san.

Most of the couples in the village had children held by the empire. Not surprisingly, no one volunteered, and the beast cackled.

"Then kill the criminals and their crime will be punished," challenged K'san.

The villagers remained frozen, expressions of shock and fear plastered on their faces. None of the elves wanted to kill the young couple. After a few moments, K'san shrugged his shoulders as if the punishment must be carried out with the deaths of elven children. Suddenly, an elven woman screamed in anguish as she picked up a rock and threw it at Befraya. The rock missed Befraya, but her action had broken the spell of indecision. Suddenly dozens of rocks were sailing toward the criminals, and Lanole and Befraya cried out in pain as the missiles struck their targets. Prince Elengal glanced at his father and saw tears running down the king's face. He began to understand more of his father's words of advice.

The stoning was over in mere moments. The crumpled and bloodied bodies of the two young elves lay entangled in each other's arms. The villagers bowed their heads, unwilling to gaze into the faces of their neighbors, for they were ashamed to have placed their own children above their neighbors. K'san smiled and nodded as he surveyed the crowd. He was pleased with the results.

"There is still one matter to be resolved," K'san said loudly. "Lanole and Befraya did not sneak out of the village without someone knowing about it. That crime is punishable by death."

The creature stared at Prince Elengal again, and the prince knew that somehow the creature was well aware of his actions. The prince had made a fatal mistake in judgment, and one that his father had repeatedly warned him about. Elengal's limbs shook with uncontrolled fear as he stepped forward and opened his mouth to speak.

"K'san…" Prince Elengal began.

"Silence!" shouted King Saratoya as he whirled and slapped the prince. "How many times have I told you not to interrupt me?"

As Prince Elengal staggered backwards, King Saratoya stepped before K'san.

"I gave the young couple permission to flee," the king declared.

K'san frowned at the king and lifted his eyes to gaze at the prince. Elengal's eyes were wide with shock, and the creature nodded knowingly, but Saratoya was not done. He knew that the empire demanded a demonstration to keep the next generation in line, but he would not let his son be that example.

"Only through the guidance of the king will the elves adhere to your laws," declared King Saratoya. "If I have strayed from that guidance, then I am prepared to pay the price, for if it is not I who pays the price, you will have no hold over my people."

K'san narrowed his eyes as he stared at the elven king. He knew that it was Prince Elengal who had broken the law, but the king had just thrown down the gauntlet. The message was clear: Spare my son, or I will lead my people in revolt.

K'san looked once more at the elven prince and then his eyes shifted back to the king. There was potential value to the king's offer. K'san nodded slowly.

"So be it," he bellowed as his hand streaked out and smashed into the king's chest. Ripping the king's heart from his body and holding it up for all to see, K'san continued, "The elves are in need of a new king. May the next one ensure that the elves obey the laws of the empire."