It was a time long ago, when the Earth and Sky had just been formed that they fell in love.  Few races inhabited the lands of Arda, with even less people hailing from each race.  Humans were scarce, and often considered more animal than anything else.  Elves roamed freely within the woodland areas, and the Dwarves were masters of the mountains.  It was here within the confines of the Imirietaure, the Jeweled Forest that the story of the Maia’Edhel started.

This race of proud Elves stood with above average height, dark hair, and possessed fair complexions.  They were adept with their magicks, that of the Mind and Dreams, playing around with the psyche of their fellow High Elf brethren, and other peoples that ventured into their lands.  Many of these Elves were Mages; many more were Rangers and Hunters.  Needless to say, this society of Elves was rather self-sufficient, and rarely interacted with the other Clans, or even the other races, save when they stumbled into the Forests.

The people were protected by the Lord of the Sky, an Angel that swore to the Lord of the High Elves that he would always protect them from harm.  In return, the Lord of the High Elves swore that the Elves would pay homage to the Lord of the Sky, and honor him as their patron deity.  He sat, in secrecy, amongst the tree-tops, his keen sight seeing all of the daily affairs of the Elves.  It was here that his sight betrayed him, as well as his heart.

Like most of the days and nights in the Imirietaure, the air was calm and warm, and there was a peaceful lull about the entire Forest, as if nothing mattered and nothing could go wrong.  And, like always, the Lord of the Sky sat proudly amongst the tree tops, in a throne he fashioned from branches and vines, watching over his people.  It was then, turning his head towards the west, towards the setting sun that his Angelic eyes fell upon one of the High Elves.

Princess Rilma Silverbane was the daughter to the Lord and Lady of the High Elves, and as such was always escorted around by four Elven Centurions, the finest warriors that the High Elves had to offer.  Thus, the Lord of the Sky rarely ever took notice of her, seeing her as just another noble person performing her daily routines about the Forest.  This evening, however, as the sun was slipping below the treetops the Princess was out walking by herself.  For hours the Lord of the Sky watched Princess Rilma move around, captivated by her beautiful features, and her grace.  So captivated, that he fell from the trees and landed before her.

Startled, the Princess ran off into the Forest, faster than the Lord of the Sky could move.  The Lord of the Sky cursed himself, and quickly retreated back into the treetops before anyone else say him.  Not even the Lord of the High Elves had laid eyes upon the Lord of the Sky since the day they first met, and many considered looking upon the Lord of the Sky to be punishable by death.  Elves were far too imperfect to view Gods, so they thought. 

The Princess returned to the High House in tears, frantic about seeing a large creature with wings, fearing it was the Lord of the Sky.  She told her father, and his face became very grave.  The Lord of the High Elves was one who believed that to have such imperfection looking upon an Angel was one of the worst sins one could commit, and even his daughter was not above the law.  The four Centurions that once escorted Princess Rilma quickly circled around her as the Lord of the High Elves spoke a single word – “Gurtha,” the Elven word for death.  Tears fell from both the Lord of the High Elves’ eyes, as well as the Princess’ as she was escorted away. 

The Lord of the Sky had witnessed all of this, and became enraged.  But, he did not loose his head.  To slaughter all of the High Elves would mean his fall from Grace, and to be damned into the Abyss.  However, to remain silent as he had always been would mean the Princess, his love, would be killed for looking upon his form. 

The Lord of the Sky watched as the Princess was taken into the prisons of the High House, deep within the rich soil of the Imirietaure where the Shadow Fiends lurked.  He could not just let the Princess wait for her execution, especially in such a place where she had as good of a chance of living as she did being pardoned from Death.  And so, as soon as the Centurions left the entrance to the prisons, the Lord of the Sky swooped down. 

He easily fought his way into the dark depths, swinging Aina’Wandil, the Holy Staff to slay the Shadow Fiends with one simple blow, the Lord of the Sky’s Angelic magicks being too much for the dark Shadow Fiends to bear.  For hours he battled down into the darkest depths of the prison, searching for the Princess so that he could liberate her.  The stench of death filled the Lord of the Sky’s nostrils as he fought onward, even his own Angelic sight beginning to falter in the overpowering dark. 

It was then the Lord of the Sky was struck to the ground.  Blood spewed from a wound on his skull, a wound sustained from a cleaving blow with a dull blade from the Keeper of the Grave, the fabled beast that guarded the worst prisoners until they were to be killed at the stake.  The Lord of the Sky thought that the Keeper of the Grave was merely an illusion, wrought about to scare away possible robbers and Necromancers of other lands that dared ventured into the prison.  As the blood dripped into his eyes, however, he realized that his assumptions were wrong. 

Bloody combat ensued for several more hours, the Keeper of the Grave and the Lord of the Sky beating each other; one to save his love, one to save his prisoner.  It was then that with one final blow from the tip of Aina’Wandil, straight to the throat of the Keeper of the Grave that the Lord of the Sky became victorious.  Blood-sweat covered his body, limbs weak, wings limp and virtually useless.  The only thing that kept the Lord of the Sky going was his Immortal Blood, and the passionate love that had grown for the Princess.

As fast as the battered Angel could move, the Lord of the Sky swept the crying Princess into his arms and moved from the dark depths of the prison, fighting against the pain in his body to save his love.

It was many hours later when the two emerged from the prison and with his last ounce of strength the Lord of the Sky flexed his massive wings and took off with the Princess in his arms.  They flew off together into the tree tops, and rested for seven days.  Their love grew and grew, and as a result, on the seventh day the mated.  As the sun began to set, the two swore to each other that each year at that time they would return to the same spot and renew there love. 

The Princess went off into the Forest, and the Lord of the Sky watched as she went, a silent tear slipping down his cheek.  He could not bare seeing her go, and even worse, he knew where she would return.  The Lord of the High Elves did not know the Lord of the Sky had liberated his daughter and slaughtered all of the Shadow Fiends and the Keeper of the Grave.  Nor did he know that the two had fallen in love, and that a childe was brewing within Princess Rilma’s body.

Time went on, and soon all was forgotten about.  The Centurions couldn’t find Princess Rilma when they went to retrieve her the day of her liberation, and assumed that one of the Shadow Fiends and taken her.  Either way she was taken care of, her sentence served, so they had nothing to worry about.  In truth, the Princess was living in the dark prison, unharmed because of the Slaying.  She sat in solitude, waiting for the time that she could return to her Angel to show her love to her once again. 

Ten months had passed when something happened.  The Princess went into labor, and several hours later a small creature lay in her arms.  This baby had tiny wings, yet had pointed Elven ears, a combination of the Angelic and Elven blood from the mother and father, from Princess and Lord.  The Princess was afraid of what might happen, and worried what the Lord of the Sky would say or do to the childe.  Still, there was nothing she could do but wait for the time she could see her love once again.

A year finally passed, and Princess Rilma returned with the small childe in her arms to the exact spot she had given her love to the Lord of the Sky one year ago.  Several hours passed, and the Lord of the Sky appeared as well, kissing the Princess tenderly when he saw her.  He then noticed the small creature in the Princess’ arms, and golden tears began to fall from his eyes, dripping down his cheeks, a large smile on his face.

The Lord of the Sky was proud to have a son, even if it was a cross between Elven and Angel blood, and this took a great burden from the Princess’ mind.  Again the two made love, and agreed to return one year later to the same spot, and again the Lord of the Sky had fertilized the Princess.  She left with another childe in her belly, and one in her arms.

As the years passed, the children began to multiply.  Each year, a new one was born, each baring wings and Elven ears.  The older ones had the body structure of the Angel, but the features of the Elves.  Tall, broad, muscular bodies all of the men shared, with proud, mighty wings.  All of the women had soft, voluptuous bodies, with smaller wings, and were much more gentle than there Elven cousins.

By now, the First Son was old enough to venture out on his own, an adult in the High Elven society.  He was a beautiful creature; his skin pale, his hair a rich, dark brown, his eyes a light emerald color.  He had slender fingers, but toned muscular arms and broad shoulders, with wings the color of the Shadows.  His eyesight wasn’t as keen as his mother’s, or his father’s and thus the Lord of the Sky had fashioned silver eyeglasses for him to wear at an early age, adding to the beauty of this creature. 

Peredhel, named after the High Elven word for “half-Elf”, began to leave the prison more and more, venturing out in the Forests to observe the other Elves.  He was curious as to the lives that his cousins lived, and what all he was missing down in the darkness.  He was stunned with what he learned, and soon grew fascinated with the Elven culture.  And, like his Father, he fell in love with a young Elven girl.  He, too, mated, and more of the Halflings were created, the Lord of the Sky dubbing them the Maia’Edhel. 

Decades past and soon the Clan of the Maia’Edhel was discovered.  By now, it had grown to the size of a small village, and lived on the outskirts of the Imirietaure, protected by the Lord of the Sky who walked amongst his creations as if he were one of them.  They had formed there own government, there own religions, and lived peaceably by themselves.  Or did live peaceably by themselves until a small hunting party of High Elves discovered them and reported back to the Lord of the High Elves. 

He ordered the half-breeds to be brought before him, and soon all of the Maia’Edhel were apprehended and brought before the Lord.  Even the Lord of the Sky was brought forth to receive sentence.  It was then that the Lord of the High Elves learned of the Slaying, and of the breeding between the Lord of the Sky and the Princess.  Outraged, he ordered that all of the Maia’Edhel be banished from the Imirietaure, and any re-entry would be punished by death.  The next day the Maia’Edhel left the Imirietaure for the last time.  Exiled forever.

Small bands of the Maia’Edhel broke off and went separate ways, the bonds of blood forgotten and extinguished.  All across Arda they ran, taking homes in Forests all across the lands.  The Lord of the Sky and Princess Rilma vanished, many of the Maia’Edhel saying that they two ventured off into another Plane of Existence where they could live happily together without the worries of persecution because of their two very different races.

The rest of the Maia’Edhel began to populate the race, although the numbers remained small, and stayed hidden from virtually all other peoples for thousands of years.  They feared they would receive the same punishment as there predecessors, and worried that death would overtake them if they revealed themselves to anyone.  They kept the language of the High Elves, as well as some of the traditions, and customs.  Other than that, a new society was created for the Maia’Edhel, a society that holds true to this very day.

Now, the Maia’Edhel exist all over the lands.  Small villages are hidden amongst the Forests of old and new and very few dare venture from the depths of the wood to show themselves.  They remain virtually self-sufficient, and retained the old magicks of the High Elves, as well as the magicks of the Lord of the Sky.  The Maia’Edhel have existed peacefully and silently for well over four thousand years, and with the grace of the Fates they will continue to do so.