Prologue

When I first started this story, I felt some need to give some sort of setting, so I created this prologue. Originally I was thinking something like Tolkien's middle-earth. It is earth, but a distant past with countries and geography no longer recognizable to us now.
As the story progressed, it became apparent that this was not only a different world, but probably a different Universe as well, and I ditched the prologue

Somewhere, on a great snow covered mountain, whose location I promised not to reveal, there is a large cave, the entrance cleverly hidden from view. And if one would stumble upon the entrance, as I did, and walk down the dark, moss covered tunnel for a while, they would come to an immensely large room, so large it would take half a day to run around it. The ceiling is high too, about a fourth of a mile. There are many cracks in the ceiling, through which sunlight and rain come through, lightening the room and allowing plants to grow. In this room lives a town of elves, the last remnant of an age gone by. They long for that age to return, but they know it never will, and so they live in that town, with only their history books to remember what it was like. I was allowed to look at these books, and found many strange and fascinating events, which history has long since forgotten. One event particularly interested me, and I gathered all possible information on it. Then, I stayed in the elf town until I had written down every last detail. Shortly afterwards I said good-bye to the elves and journeyed back home, I transferred the facts into a story, leaving nothing out and adding very little. How much of the story is legend, and how much is fact I can not say, but the elves assured me it was all true. Here is what happened.