Yes, ma'am! Haha, hi Clair, I was wondering where you'd gotten too! ;)

PROLOGUE

It wasn’t Billy’s fault that the teacher never made herself clear. It wasn’t his fault that when she said “Civil War” it sounded a lot like “Silver War”. It was, he supposed, partly his fault that he had what his father called “CDS”-Chronic Daydreaming Syndrome-but not all the way. And it certainly wasn’t his fault that it was a beautiful spring day and there was half an hour to go before school was out for spring break, so he was naturally feeling bored and not listening to his teacher.

The way it started, Billy was wondering whether to put an hour-glass or a clock on his doodle of a time machine that he was carefully making in the corner of a notebook. This was an important decision. He couldn’t put in the calendar until he’d decided which one worked best. On the one hand, a clock had more times to choose from-but on the other hand, Billy had a fondness for hour-glasses, and it looked better on the dashboard.

He was in the middle of this dilemma and wondering if he ought to use both when the teacher called on him.

“William?” It always bothered him when people used his full name. He was busy thinking about his annoyance and his clock-or-hour-glass dilemma, so it was no wonder the teacher’s next words sounded garbled. “Could you come up here and hand out these book lists? They’ll help you in your research about the Silver War.”

Silver War? That sounded kind of interesting.

“Yes, Ms. Burns,” he said obediently, and went to her desk to get the lists.

“As you know, class,” Ms. Burns continued as Billy handed out the lists, “spring break is almost here, so you’ll have two weeks to write a three-page essay on the Silver War.”

This time it was hard to hear what she said, since at the words “three-page essay,” many of the students, Billy included, set up a loud groan. His mild interest in the Silver War had fled. Ms. Burns was a pretty good teacher, Billy supposed. She was pretty, but not excessively so. She could keep the rowdiest kids in line, and most of the time she had fun ideas. Her only fault--besides calling him William--was her unquenchable enthusiasm for three-page essays.

“Come on, class,” she said. “Think of this as a challenge to overcome, an adventure to take!”

Like as not it was these words that sowed the seeds for Billy’s idea.

****************************************************************************************************************

All while on the bus, Billy’s head was spinning with thoughts of the Silver War. For some reason he kept thinking elves had something to do with it, even though they were studying American history and he was pretty sure there had never been any elves in the United States. Two names kept following him, too--Cambron and Rondelay. And so it was that when his friend Andy tried to talk to him, he was locked deep in argument with himself about whether or not Rondelay was a boy’s name.

“Hey!” Andy shouted, punching Billy on the shoulder.

“Huh?” said a dreamy Billy, having decided that Rondelay was a boy’s name. But what’s the elf’s name? What elf?

“What’s the matter with you?” Andy demanded. “You’ve been really quiet.”

“Hm? Oh, I was just thinking about that essay we have to do.” If Billy had added, “About the Silver War,” he might never have done what he did, but luckily he didn’t.

“Yeah, bummer. Ruins the whole spring break. Aw, well…” And Andy was silent again, leaving Billy free to contemplate the Silver War.

****************************************************************************************************************

When the bus stopped at his house, Billy raced up the steps, through the door, to the dining room table. He was going to get his homework over with as quickly as possible so that he could start on his essay. Funny, he had never felt this enthusiastic about an essay before.

Math, English, science, social studies, and geography were run through quickly. Now he just had history, and that, of course, was his essay.

If he had looked at his book list, he would have stopped his idea right then and there. But Billy, although he was a good student and liked to read fiction every now and then, never read non-fiction if he could help it. So, he chose to cheat a little and search on the Internet. After all, Ms. Burns never said he couldn’t.

Half an hour of searching proved fruitless. There was almost nothing about the Silver War besides World of Warcraft pages and the Silver War Badge. There were countless pages on the Revolutionary War, the Trojan War, the Civil War--but the Silver War? Not a thing.

Rubbing his eyes behind his round glasses, he stood up, grabbed a piece of lined paper and a sharp pencil, wrote The Silver War across the top of the page with his name underneath, and sat down at the table with half an idea forming in his mind. Subconciously, he banished the essay to a dark void and wrote a story instead.

This is what he wrote.

Andy P. C. says fetr. Fester? :P to you, Andy.

~Wolfgirl67 signing off.

1. Really? You did? :D Thanks!

2. Ah. Last year of middle school? (I'm asking because I'm homeschooled, so the ways of public and private school are strange to me...)

Andy P. C. says gfxo.

~Wolfgirl67 signing off.