“Soul of untouchable darkness, realms lost in eternities of obscurity. In the dusk lingers dread, dread is of the mind and is not inside clutch. In dread lies demise, in demise lies gloom.” - Army of Nightfall principle.
The realm is occupied with agony and anguish, the strong rule above the pathetic. Suffering the injustices of the strong, the weak contest not for it shall be in vain. I stand high over the weak and strong. I rule over all. I am the creator, the beginning and the end. No single person rules me I am Strong, powerful, yet servants disobey leaders. They defile my temples my lands they rebel against their god. I am more powerful, and stronger than they could ever be. I deserve to rule, the strong rule the weak and the weak do as the strong say or die. These are the laws of the land.
My throne sits at the conclusion of the epicenter of the urban sprawl of Alici-opi. Busts of my unlimited magnificence border the ridge of the epicenter. This urban sprawl was constructed upon the boundless mount of Vellen-vood. I lookout from the elevations of the highland, while probing the capital, and I am looking forward to triggering the feeble agony. One thousand years I have ruled over theses whelps, these mutinous losers. I tread to the access point of the capital regarding the city with repugnance. “This is how they demonstration appreciativeness to me,” I mock at their meager challenges, “Subsequently all I have completed for them.”
Smoke columns lift to the air in the atrophied capital, but they will not reach me. My sentinels are too devoted, too dominant to be overwhelmed. They stand amongst the paramount and toughest of manhood. And yet as I look out at the skirmish unfolding I see astonishingly. The dissident flag progressing is through the boulevards. How is this feasible? I am sturdier than any of them. I sense the passion in my core crack into vehemence, an unrelenting frenzy driving into my awareness, “Those fools, those weak fools!” Holding up my hands I bellow an incantation, mammoth sized meteors shower the ignorant metropolis. Hazes of filth filled dust are dispersed into the atmosphere from the falling stars crashing into the earth. Rapidly my outburst concludes and I turn, unbeknownst to me the armies of revolutionists arrive at my citadel.
An assemblage of six agents of the races trudges in to the stronghold. The loftiest was a male High Elf he had a conceited air to his appearance, per a sharp snout that was wrinkled up, his jawline was fine. He had long piercing ears that rounded marginally up like a partial arc. Golden eyes gawked at me seeming like they were penetrating my depth, he bore a sophisticated robe and shawl that cloaked his physique with embroidery. I reminisce slaughtering his kinfolk as he watched. I let him go at liberty as demonstration to him I was compassionate. As it stood it was the wrong choice seemingly.
One more elf around three inches shorter than him stared with malice at me. This individual was female, her extended jagged ear that curved to under the earlobe expressed to me that she was a Wood Elf. Her curved striking sapphire eyes bared the splendor of her people. I felt the impulse to peck her soft rosy lips. I felt remorse that I would have to decimate her. Her curved middle lay visible to the realm since the undersized shirt that covered the upper half of her bosom. The huntress’s blouse and skirt she dressed in were produced from the pelt of Seroke hide – a bulky mammal like creature that is near impossible to slay. That pelt spoke of a lengthy account of combat. What I did to her I cannot distinguish maybe she is just testing herself. But then I recognize her hand is clasp around the High Elves hand. I laugh.
The third tallest of the assemblage has an antagonistic stride, along with his dark hide and severely sharp ears along with sharp horns distending from his temple. I identify him as a Dark Elf one of my previous slaves I had rid myself of, he had been too scrawny, and I should have slain him when I had had the chance. His dark gloomy eyes molded a murky oblivion I gawked into them with evident wickedness. He didn’t grimace or turn away so I observed the next visitor.
Succeeding I see the human with a wide menacing sneer crossing his face, which rapidly cracks to loathing as he notices me looking to him. He was a fine-looking fellow with fair golden locks of hair. On his face he sported a golden beard that only stretched half an inch from his chin. He was plainly a lord bestowing to his stance. His saunter was of gallantry and nerve he along with this assemblage would not be a relaxed contest.
A Snow Elf stood erected in essentially the equal summit as the human. His snow bleached skin and insipid aged eyes, his harsh perverted ears warped equally to that of ram’s horns. Baring a polar bear hide. His nose was barely visible to me. He had thick round cobalt eyes.
Succeeding, the shortest and most indignant race ever born on this planet stalks up my halls, a Dwarf. He is four maybe four and a half feet tall. His ling and withered beard speak of wealth among the dwarven people. The assemblage sealed the distance between us.
“How are you my unforeseen guests? I hope the hotness has not been too severe on your tantalizing skins,” I spoke with malice and spite in my voice. The Wood Elf and High Elf step onward just a small number of feet away from me. Mocking me! I elevate my fist then jerk it back and an indistinguishable energy propels them on their rears. The rest of the assemblages draw their armaments.
As the two raise the snow elf steps forward, “I am Trelen Valennz; we are here to end your tirade of evil. The Humans send Kaden Moonstar, the High Elves send Sven’rend Toligen, The Wood Elves send Je’enas Selven, the dwarves send Da’ven Tro, and the dark elves send Wentroenins’val Cen’rilonb. We embody the biddings of six races of Fereldea, it has long sense been time to rebel in contradiction of your tyrannical statute. Our conformist assemblies have overruled your unjust statute.”
“I am your deity you cannot solely discard me, I am too powerful,” I sneer at their mutiny. Their idealistic illusions of liberty from my supremacy were vain there was no way they could subjugate me.
“You suppress us hence we mutiny in contradiction of your fraudulent authority,” Kaden Moonstar quantified. In his fingers he detained an extensive far-reaching blade it was the premium armament menfolk could fashion. The fashion it excelled expressed to yours truly it remained impervious to enchantments, I gaze at altogether the weaponries chosen by my adversaries, the Wood Elf had selected a longbow – how cliché – the Snow Elf holds a war axe, the Dwarf a war hammer. I jeer at the Dark Elf whom ensured not come fortified with an armament he would be the incantation caster.
“For Fereldea!!” the human cries out as he runs at me fluctuating his enthralled steel. Hurriedly I wedge his steel into a rock wall per my raised blade. I knee him in his groin, he squeals in agony. Hastily I dispatch him by way of a pang in the gullet I screw my invented steel amputating his cranium from his carcass. The human dies a sacrifice. Succeeding, I volley harsh combustions as of my right limb. Floods of firestorms border the assemblage. Wentroenins’val Cen’rilonb reputes my infernos per a fabricated safeguard, that drives my violence blandly about the gathering of races. Out of exasperation I interrupt my barrage of blaze, raising my left limb in the air and snatch it down, the pinnacle of the bastion disintegrates down and about the agents.
“What you collapse that easy,” I lark a menacing giggle, “Your unification did you naught…”
Suddenly there is a loud chanting under the rubble. Pardon? That Elf’s buffer ought to have crumbled below the wreckage. My skepticism halts me from countering as the remnants of the ceiling discharge centrifugally; an enormous section sends me off into the partition. I am surrounded by a void of darkness. I transfer my supports in throbbing alternation, but my wrists are bound by a securely knotted cord. I exposed my eyes and see my oppositions surrounding me. Everyone but the human I had gored erected about me. “I resolve to triumph you cannot exhaust me!” I bellow. My capacity to speak is shushed, as piercing vicious sensation parts my gullet, at that time I sense a burning fluid trickling on to the shingle base… Gore, blood dribbled forth from my craw I could impress the fact life was draining from my body. “I resolve to be a reoccurrence,” they have executed me; my conception starts to diminish….
“He is dead! Gabriel is dead! We have done it!” I holler to my spouse Sven’rend, he beams at me and peck my cheek. I laugh happily at that time I turn to Moonstar’s cadaver that rests stock-still on the firm unfriendly grit. “He was a good honorable man,” I publish kneeling reverently to his unresponsive shell. I tread over and pick him up in my influential arms; the collection trails me as I saunter to the steps on the exterior of the stronghold. I position him in a standing pose and shortly his frame starts to mold into dense gold. Human combatants soon trudge up to recompense their admirations of their departed forerunner.
1 year later.
“Sven’rend this unification per a Wood Elf will stand as the humiliation of the epoch, you must not espouse her!” My Fathrer erupts through the entrance of my dressing chamber howling.
“Fathrer you cannot sojourn me we are The Champions. She resolves to stand as my mate for I love her, you will not end my wedding,” I approximate irritably as my forebear paces in front of me. I stand tall in my traditional wedding cloths. A gilded kerchief sitting in my breast pocket, “Je’enas and I have scheduled for this occurrence for years. I’m not about to break it for you or whatsoever.” Quivering my skull fiercely I thrust my fathrer to the side as I perceive the Wood Elf bridal composition start. “Fathrer we are going to have a child soon,” I convey to him as I saunter off.
“That youth will not be permitted in the High Elf Realm!” I heard him squelch.
“Then she shall live per the Wood Elves awaiting the day I obtain the crown,” I counter for he has no more children. I storm off letting the door slam behind me.
After that day my Fathrer and I on no occasion ever communicated. Again.
3 years later.
Sven strolls past me giving me an indulgent kiss on the cheek as I embrace our attractive daughter, Alassea. Her golden-blue eyes glittering as she giggled up at me swaying her arms trying to grasp my face. I kiss the little angel on her temple then the Alicauvi walks up to me and Sven. “I have news from the High Elves. Sven they must have your appearance for your faer’s wedding,” The Alicauvi walks over to him, “You must go to improve our releion with your people.”
Sven nods thoughtfully as he walks to her, “I will go,” it wasn’t unanticipated that his fathrer was attainment marriage again; High Elves habitually wed more than one individual to progress releion –relations – with newer honorable families. It’s like the Wood Elf Clan structure except for our clans are always trusted to join when needed. Likewise we are more excepting of half-breeds than any other elven race.
I nod at him, “I will go too.”
“What about the child she cannot come.”
“I will watch over her. She is welcome in our clan if the ignorant High Elves will not,” the Alicauvi said walking over I hand Alassea to her and me and Sven kiss her the last time in numerous years.
I miss her even now as I walk away.
18 years later
I persist at the abyss of the reappearance of the ancient age, of my statute. I have remained slumbering in this chasm of a world, for eons, at present I have the impression my métier returning. I have finally awakened. I had undervalued the Wood Elves and currently they will recompense for their opposition. The total domain will pay for their upheaval. I sense a passion scorch in my chest soon the realm will writhe at my feet.
Great towering timbers stood vertical over me, Elessar Meneldur, one of my unsurpassed friends, stood stooped across from me. His prolonged ears arched around his earlobe the tip of his auricles were severe. An inclusive jaw and great dusky eyes, he was a Wood Elf. Elemmire Earfalas has dainty sapphire eyes, varied charming face, which was one of the explanations why, Elessar and her remained courting. She concealed herself in a shrub not too distant from him. A solitary deer foraged in isolation right in the central of a small opening in the timberland. In my hands a longbow apprehended level tense per a lengthy shaft equipped to loose. It was supposed to be Elessar’s execution, but he was taking too long. I resolve to give him a tad lengthier. Looking over to Elemmire I see her nod at me so I take it as the okay. Sharply I aim and loose the air all within the same moment. The deer snorts as my shaft impales itself into the deer’s crown in a single rapid knock-back.
Elessar cries vociferously as he stands tramping to my station. I stand. “Gods damn you Alassea,” he jams his extremity in my neck bone, “For just the once would you resist wasting my mark.”
“Elemmire and I presumed you were taking too extensive, and that mayhap you required support.”
“Hey do not bring me into this Alassea,” Elemmire sneered as she uninvolved herself from her camouflage.
I saunter over to the deer which I am currently capable to convey is a doe per the absent antler openings. “We can head back now,” I point to the doe, “You can still have this one Elessar.” I say provocatively.
Per that he disregards me gathering my haul as I reclaim my additional deer that I slew today. Dissimilar to those dualistic I was not a Wood Elf, at least not untainted Wood Elf, but it didn’t matter in this clan I could be whosoever I desired to. My moberr was the Wood Elf Je’enas one of the six individuals who challenged Gabriel in the preceding skirmish of the insurgence. She was the single elf who drew the steel athwart his esophagus. I have on no occasion perceived my mother. She and my faer –father-- partook in parting with me here to live per the Wood Elves. It is not that I loathe the Wood Elves; I would have craved to conscious per my maternities. At this time nevertheless that is one of the core motives why I abhor my parentage. My Fathrer –father- was a High Elf the loftiest race of all, though I am the lankiest in the clan the Alicauvi – Clan leader – had told me I am loftier than most High Elves. They nowadays live in a High Elf Chateau with my Deregettar –Grandfather.
Deprived of detecting we blunder athwart the Wood Elf’s postern inception. The Alicauvi bade us welcome as I look up. Smiling I say, “Alus trus duven trof.” We are grateful for your welcome. From the time I have lived with the Wood Elves I have only cultured in their linguistic.
“Alassea I ensure news for you from your Auti’fe,” she replied, her head dozing formerly.
I gawk unobtrusively at her. My Auti’fe –parentage- has not ever strained to communicate per me. Elessar starts to reserve leisurely, but the Alicauvi just gazes at him quaking her crown. He guises at me shrugging, I pay no attention to his regard and exhale, “What is it?”
“Your parents desire you to go to the hiuilf ilf republic.”
“Intended for what intention?” Now is when they dearth to be per me? Why ought I?
“You stand to be joined to a Hiuilf noble,” she takes a deliberate gait towards me; “We require this, your faer is now sovereign and you will be endorsed to sojourn per them. Our domains are endangered and your faer has pledged support if we direct you.”
“My faer and moberr didn’t care ample to take me per them in the first place why should I go now?” I shake my head. “I am not some puppet to be credited by some haughty noble.”
“Delven, I have told a falsehood to you. Your moberr and faer on no occasion left you here for the reason that they didn’t dearth you. Your grandfather would not countenance you in that land-dwelling.” I cannot consider this, she lied to me.
“I’ll go! You’ll get your damned coalition,” I turn my posterior to her; this in Wood Elven philosophy is corresponding to expressing to another punishing impudence. I perceive a gasp, I refuse to gaze back. Reprehensible is why. For Wood Elves being deceitful is virtually as unscrupulous as homicide. Wood Elves are an honorable serene culture every; man, woman and child were elevated to combat only protect themselves and their fellow clans.
Then the Alicauvi did something I did not think would happen: head bowed, she walked to the front of me. Getting on one knee she said, “Alica re forrgrace.” Please forgive me. “E wiven ouy es naytigni,” I will do whatever it takes. This revealed she was mortified she had lied the Alicauvi in any clan would not express regret save she or he had done something very disgraceful. When a Wood Elf acts contrite they ask for compassion then they must complete an undertaking to spectate they are earnest. I stoop down per her to display I am keen to illustrate her empathy. “Let Elessar and Elemmire emanate if they dearth to, then I mean to forgive you.”
“As per your request, I was before now forecasting on bidding their attendance.”
I gesture upended per a smile on my mien, “I forrgrace you.”
The Alicauvi positions dozing as her miens to my friend, “I would entreaty your succor per be there with Alassea.”
“Of course Alassea is our comrade,” Elessar said.
Winking at me cheekily, “I would never leave you,” Elemmire supposed flippantly.
*** *** ***
Prosperity, authority, and kin; are the things that dwarven civilization is built upon. For an age since Gabriel was ousted the Dwarves oblige to sit starved of harm in our concealed conurbations. I am Oggeran Tro, son of Da’ven Tro; one of the five enduring Titleholders from the war of insurrection. I was birthed through the concluding mêlée; my father now is a front-runner for the dwarves, trying to stay buried subvert, absent from the menace of other realms. He is timeworn and trapped in his means. To subsist we should seek to construct affiliations with the other homelands.
The chamber I stand in is assembled from ebony walls that were excavated from the deep abysmal in the ground. Embellished placards draped the metal stockades, pebble floors per overgenerous carvings of dragons that at one time meandered the blues of Fereldea. Stone slabs and plates occupied the stands. Wasteful crystal uplighters adorned the walls conveying graceful light to the otherwise murky apartment. Gold chairs edged the board per hideously lavish inflated cushions. A steel hearth vestiges stationary, merged to the stone partitions erected by the celebrated dwarven craftsmen.
Our city-states are occupied per materials the higher terrain has no notion of. I progress to the access parting from my permissive compartment. It repulses me our society is self-regarding and sequestered. The galleries of the subversive conurbation display our affluence, and hardhearted insolences. Diamond shards garnish the kerosene lamps that gild the dividers. For dwarves having diamonds outside your chamber denoted fortune, my forbearer was the dwarven precursor. My footsteps resonate in the vacant galleries as I make my manner to the fresh archaeological situate. It is not too aloof I swiftly discover the cavity admission. I drive through the ebony ingress in to an outsized spacious fissure, the parapets were serrated and unworked this was a hoary area that has been unscathed pending now. Three supplementary personnel encircled an impermeable brunette scaly boulder. I saunter over and contribute it a respectable kick. Shaking my head I toss my hand back and say, “Use the volatile ash.” My father craved this stalwart to liquesce down, and who was I to reject.
The drudges jar back to drudgery arranging out the ash and organizing it for ignition; I have voiced to my father this was a ruthless notion. Now I precipitously get a profound sensation of remorse. What was this metal? What if it is afflicted by some elven profanity? As soon as the drones are finished briefing the ash I have the room unoccupied.
One of them guises at me, I signal and he hastily yanks out the ignition contrive and thrusts the bar down. I receive a lurid eruption shadowed by a gaudy dreadful snarl. Oh Spirits we have aroused a quadruped, a snoozing colossal monster that will currently consume us and our urban sprawl. I seize my axe and cross the threshold to the room to catch to my boundless disclosure a primordial dragon. “Gods I supposed we hunted these creatures to extermination,” I slide my axe back into its loop; I would not dearth to irritate such a beast.
I caught an unfathomable reverberating in its ribcage as it respired. I swallow anticipating it does not mean any harm. Though incongruously I finish a profuse passion satisfying the once moist and icy room; I back up a bit as I see it move.
Its muzzle is elongated and ragged with strident tusks gazing out from the mouth, the long encrusted neck elevates above me a bulky crown edges the back of its cranium. Burning smelted stalwart discharges out of its orifice as I jump back scarcely avoiding the scorching element. Two hefty wings binge wide and fold leaving the magma as the single foundation of radiance.
“Dwarves, you are such insensible mortals to rouse me from my stretched stagnation. Why do you stir me, or to beseech for tolerance for pursuing my kind down to the threshold of annihilation? Or is this some mishap from your unwanted diggings?” So dragons could communicate using their thoughts. While speaking he had not stirred his jaw; which if he had I was worried more pumice would disgorge out. “I suppose it does not matter. I have decided to let you subsist. I warn you though my brethren wake along with me, our return has been secured by you.”
I nod fretfully as his voice quaked as his voice resounded; it instigated the base to pulsate, “What there are more of you?”
“You presumed we had all acceded to your abject endeavors of obliteration,” I caught what sounded like a hoot or a chortle; “We purely delayed in an abysmal inertia for you to rouse us.”
“I will be leaving and I suggest you take your leave of this room,” I nod signaling the labor force to dispense. As we misstep out I hear a vulgar growl that permeates the adjoining expanse, the access crashes sealed after us there is a racket of wallowing, I gust to the gate to catch a fat hovel in the hollows maximum. Deeps of volcanic production waded in the subordinate elevations.
I rebound on the drudges, “We must alert the king!”
As I declare Da’ven – my father – strolls in, “What animosity is this? Where did the element journey?”
“Father it was no ore it was a Dragon,” I still could not rely on my personal verses.
“Son you must be fatigued, all the dragons are departed, we slew them spans ago,” he chortled.
“Father we must let the other races know,” he clouted me as I spoke. Gawking at him in incredulity I brush some renewed gore from my cheek.
“You will stop speaking this drivel or I will have to chastise you.”
“Father I have under no circumstances given you any cause to mistrust me, if you endure to disrepute me I will have to ruminate radical preferences,” I return a fixed cuff to my father’s face.
“Son you discredit me,” his voice was strong and serious, “Bring naught this up once more.”
“Then Father, I contest you too, Da’verale,” I raise my right pinky finger up.
“Son you dearth to contest me… It shall be as you say, but you will regret your choice not to leave this issue unaccompanied,” He upraised his pinky and enveloped it around mine, “I’m going to regret ending my only son’s life. I guess it cannot be abetted.”
“Then I shall go to my chamber to prepare,” I turn and walk away from my father.
*** *** ***
Vasuki the Dragon of Sea and Oceans, I once meandered to sprawling heavens of Fereldea soaring per the eagles. Leasing the updrafts to embrace me in the blues, as I soar the airways per my flippant indigo scaled wings. My corpulent copious gut was enclosed in sapphire scales that shielded my four dense powerful limbs. At the conclusion of my overlong tail was a thin flap to help me change direction in flight. Now yet again I stray those uncluttered airways. The currents lifting me in elevation into the atmospheres, my authoritative wing lappet distributing me headlong, I alternate my tail diverging down to the right. I had roused far from the situate of my stagnation. Epochs from the period I had slept, it was hard for the humans and an elf to tell our genders for the only suggestion was an indistinct fermion that we females secreted. The only Elven species able to smell this fermion are the Wood Elves. I whirl to the left evading a small fowl, far too minor to discard my spell trying to clasp. Wood Elves were the only species to service us dragons in the Primordial War, a time during prehistory where dragons were under violence by the Dwarves. We formed bonds with the Wood Elves that rode us, though I was a fledgling too young to link at the time the Wood Elven and Dragon congresses decided to have our kind torpor pending when were stimulated.
Now still I feel a touch togging me, drawing me promoting me in my course. I could not illuminate the sensation; it was enchanting it had only been days since I had stirred but somebody or something attached me, I could feel her impression. Her judgments and sensitivity, but her appellation was my utmost governing thought. Alassea she was not a full blooded Wood elf, but to her or me or any Wood elf it would not matter. My novel contract was to shelter her from any detriment. I am a Dragon and she, my rider. She was drawing nearer presently I would grasp her, and then I would keep her. These moods I handled for Alassea, they must have been something other dragons had caressed for their riders. The Gods were leading me to something great.
I was actually supposed to head for the Elven clan hearts, but this relation to Alassea was far more significant. Before long I could touch her, sense her bellow me.
I could sense distress in her, the only thing I could consider presently around to be terrified of was me. It had been eras since we had fluttered the firmaments of Fereldea, so she had undoubtedly under no circumstances realized a Dragon. I had to someway give her the dispatch I was not planning any maltreatment on her.
Through our link I sent, I mean no harm. I hope this ranges her as I start to descend to the earth. As I do, I feel a shaft smash my reinforced breast. Either she did not accept it or believe it. Another shaft perforated my scaly shell, I boom in agony. I discern she can sense my throbbing, since as I crash into the rock-strewn earth I see her on her knees clasping her bosom. I am set as two other Wood Elves collect nearby me, adjoining my substantial depression. In their hands a longbow arrested erect stressed per a drawn-out shaft well-found to free.
I let my voice resonate, “I mean no mischief, but the more you injured me the more you offend Alassea.”
They appeared confounded, flabbergasted I could speak, and the male said, “A Dragon, but they are dead.”
“No they just went into hiding,” The female said. She then considered me, “Why do you impend Alassea?”
“I do not, I am purely speaking the verity,” I guise to Alassea who is inept to speak from my throbbing so I censored the linkage so only our thoughts touch. I am friend not foe, I told her in our minds.
I felt her be mindful of it as accurate and as the soreness skated away she seized up her hand and whispered in a throaty voice, “Wait… put away the longbows.”
“But it was going to attack us,” The male said inanely.
“SHE is not impairing you right at this instant when you are diverted,” Alassea pointed out elegantly.
At this the other female distressed the longbow, but the male basically repudiated to submit, “I am going to shoot it!”
“Elessar if you shoot Vasuki I will let her gash out your gorge,” Alassea had effusively mended from the agony that had seeped through our connection.
At this the male entitled Elessar backs down, “Fine but if you get consumed by this Dragon don’t come crying to me.”
Alassea crosses the expanse amid us, in a slow moseys, grasping the skewered shaft and juddering it out from my rare meat I feel a reminder of stinging. She laid her finger over the wound and whispers something, almost singing the wound secure. I nod in appreciation to her, standing up quaking the grime off me as I gawk at Elessar. I open my mouth leasing out an upsurge of icy air that launders over the expanse.
“So what should we do with it?” Elessar unashamedly spoke.
I bark my voice conveyance repercussions through the air, “SHE you wretched imbecile and it is what am I going to do with you?”
“I can feel your suffering. Why?” Alassea backs up as I see her eyes regarding me per enquiringly.
“You are snarled to me. For what motive I recognize naught,” I strained to expound to her, “The Gods have led me now to you.”
“I welcome you to our travels,” I beamed as I arranged on the soil trying to get up, “Why don’t we stay here tonight?”
*** *** ***
Our civilization is erected on the capacious brinies; we are unattainable here, out in the surge packed waters. Conurbations of frost and seawater are strewn about the passionate cerulean surfs. Capitals that bore the gemstone like presence, which effervesced in the dawn star, these construction constituents were not converted from hoarfrost or liquid, but moderately a permutation of individually. Each metropolis had its own grandeur, which irradiated its eccentricity. I was born eras in the past, in the phase of the Itarillë Súrion – Desert Elves- , my name: Fëanor Nólatári. They reigned the land-dwelling and struggled for naught to take hold of our borough masses. We yet could not be suppressed, for our municipalities could evaporate into whitecaps that would smash over the vessels that pursued to land infantry on us and sink them. We the Inwë Súrion – Elves of the sea - were here afore even the Wood Elves and their Dragon cohorts. I am measured undeveloped for my kind, still reflected as an adolescent after five spans. Now I nous something in my translucent room, bursting with unusual charms, after three decades his reoccurrence is renowned. If he is recurring now then the other six botched to expel him. If this is factual then it will take added than six this stage.
I mien to the blue out my clear as crystal booth to see something dipping, in the air not only was Gabriel returning the Eärlindë Súrion – Snow Elves - were attacking us!
Immense comet sized icefalls demolished from the mutable sky. I inaugurated myself from the opening as I intone; some frost methods at my feet sanctioning me to glide up as supplementary Eärlindë Súrion were discernible. Eärlindë Súrion were unmistakably dissimilar then us Inwë Súrion chief they were pastel bleached, with crooked ears that pierced conventionally, while we were a shadowy azure, with ears that arched at the angle. Their forefather had exiled us from the snowfall because they accept as true, that we murdered his father. This though was not proper we aspire to extricate ourselves from these swine. As I lither forward I lurch my hand up, a hoarfrost buffer shoots up refracting two arctic rods. I close in on my assailant by shifting my lane. We collide as I bid an ice spread rapier. As we fall he starts to beckon something by humming I terminate him with a piercing censor to the gullet. Revolving I see an added Eärlindë Súrion soaring at me I swirl holding my edge out as it gets congested in his collar bone. Inwë Súrion has no military, though at an early stage of progress all progenies are instructed to preserve themselves and their fellow inhabitants. At this interval I guise about to see in what way our abode s exploits: offspring and woman run in the thoroughfares as the Eärlindë Súrion Territorial Army fecund the harsh boulevards. I sing deafeningly, “Alatariel AmandilTop of FormBottom of Form Eärlindë Tulcakelumë Mélawen.” Seas of entrancing seawater rinse down upon the mindless Eärlindë Súrion.
Flash. I am positioned in-between an Eärlindë Súrion and an Inwë Súrion there is extra to the variances I can scarcely see the alteration in their skins and ears. “What is this?” The two Súrion – elves – do not seem to notice me. As my crown peer down I notice I am transparent, it must be an apparition or a hallucination. The Eärlindë speaks, “You slaughtered our father. I Outcast you not caring you are my brother.” I watch as the first-born or at least the loftiest brother steps onward.
“I have not abused our father,” He said beseechingly, “Brother you know me and father were close. Why do you charge me of something you know I would not do?” At this time I grasped what this was. Why I was seeing this. This was the time our two people divided. We were at one point no different than each other, but now we have developed to suit our settings. If we could not overlook the past, we the Inwë Súrion might not endure to see the Gabriel’s demise.
Our race was separated because of the color of our skins, even the humans did not worry about such trivial matters. “Don’t plea you and your people are castaway from the snowflake properties of Eve’tecwil. You must leave.”
“I get what you did you killed father and are blaming me!” The Inwë spoke with wrath in his voice. He drew his sword and impaled it in his kin. “You are going to regret this.”
The multitudes of both races started to charge. Flash.
Again I am in and unaccustomed domicile. But this is diverse than the preceding dwelling per ancient hoary trees form outsized expansive sunshades directly above. Ferns and shrubberies ornamented the fruitful topsoil nearby the trunks of the trees. I saw a High Elf that was unusually tall a she had larger splendorous eyes of the Wood Elves. The ears were carved from the lovely majesty of both races. As I peer at them they notice me as I watch them as they stand scarcely outside open-air tree line, two Wood Elves escorted her, one a male with an agreeably smoothed jaw, extra female with endearing eyes and persuasive ears. They discontinue, I must have been an inquiring prospect standing in the middle of some indiscriminate woodland, and then they express to me, “Who are you?” The lankiest asked taking a step just before me.
“Lúthien Súrion I am Fëanor Nólatári of the Inwë Súrion, I am contented to come across you,” I bow reverentially as it had been centuries since I have intermingled with other elven races then mine own.
“Elves of the Sea the ones who refused to join in the hostilities against Gabriel. I’ve heard of you exceptionally unique to see, but tremendously dominant,” The half-breed reared closer, her magnificence was unparalleled by any other elf of my kind. It was fantastic how I was even here? In a jurisdiction of mud I was supposed to be home struggling per my publics. There is a reverberation as I see to my pronounced astonishment a dragon, the gods of my culture. Habitually I drop to my laps worship to the immeasurable lord or lady dragon. I could not tell but I’m sure the other elves with the half-breed at this contemporary instant could because they were Lúthien Súrion – Wood Elves. It did not matter. As I guise back at both the dragon and the elves seem tangled, at my manners. Flash.
On my back I felt raw stinging as I recognized my skull had been condemned onto a hard rock. Inflamed watery lifeblood trickled over my eye I blink in surprise. They had not confronted me: for I saw the half-breed standing over me with her fingers over my tender wound. Aching started to evaporate leisurely. “What happened?” I asked muddled, my arms stretched behind me and enforced me up to my feet. Restorative enchantments were a sporadic gift amid my primordial race, but Lúthien Súrion had a capability for nature and the curing arts. An old saying among my people is, “A Lúthien Súrion starved of forestry is like the land shorn of the stellar.” Also they say, “If you provoke the Lúthien Súrion be primed to face the wrath and façade of the world.” It is for the cause that we have waned to relate with the exterior world, that our look at other races and lands has developed so deceived. Sequestration had recognized to be our enemy.
Then I am knocked back by the comprehension that my publics are under attack and I can do nothing to help them, ache and penitence fill my soul. “I need to get to Tulca’kelumë to contest for them,” I say urgently as I stand.
“Who?” The half-breed queried as I taxed to figure out how I had been caught here. For all meanings and resolutions I disregard her now not for the aim that she was a half-breed, but for I was too busy scrutinizing the zone I had stood previously. Seared earth, still besmirched by the flash that had hurled me in contrast to the tree, it gave suggestions of charms but this was too authoritative for me or any being in this dominion, it must have been the divinities.
I had been sent here by the Divinities, but why?
Fingers gripped my shoulder as I turned to see who it was; the brown skinned Lúthien Súrion the full-blooded female glared at me. It must have displeased her that I had ignored her friend. “I am sorry miss?” I asked looking to the half-breed.
“Alassea Nărmölanŷn53;,” she says as I turn to her splendorous expression. That was the first time I had looked her directly in the eyes. Her even cheek bones and harsh jawline complete for an eye-catching face. The eyes were severe in the angles and corpulent in the eyelashes, which were long and curved. Lips of divine rights pressed on her mouth, they were treated with a light rosy luster, and in short they were awfully kissable. My eyes moved to marginally less apposite range. Her bosom was not great, but not petite either, it was enclosed by her huntress jacket that bared her light-brown tummy; I could see the forgiving sketch of muscle, giving her an all-around striking look.
I turn to her friend who revealed the same foundations of gleam. This womanly body had a plump somewhat grander bosom. Her eyes were stouter in the angles, with harsh attractive cheekbones. The Jawline was more smoothed giving her and glamorous look. She also wore the same vestments Alassea did.
“Miss Nărmölanŷn53; my city-state is under attack from the Eärlindë Súrion – Elves of the Snow – I think I have been transported here to protect one of you. Which I do not know yet, but The Divinities have brought here for a reason,” all four of them the three elves and the dragon cocked their heads. “But first who is the rider to the dragon?”
This time the sapphire scaled dragon answered, “I am Vasuki the Dragon of Sea and Oceans, my rider is Alassea Nărmölanŷn53; of the High and Wood Elf clans.”
The male Wood Elf stood forward, “I am Elessar, Elf of the Wood clan, and this is Elemmire the bright shining star of my world,” says he pointing to the elf near Alassea.
I bow with admiration still not retention on how to deal with the Lúthien Súrion. This was anomalous I had solitary ever had spirits for Inwë Súrion my kind. Though this became deceitful when I regarded Alassea in the eyes again I felt something in my bosom liquefy into an earnest feeling in my bosom. I snubbed to act upon it for there was a time for such things and I needed to lead them to my dwelling, to see if it still was there. “Will you go to the Dwellings of the Inwë Súrion with me?”
Alassea stepped forward, “If your people are under attack then of course.”
“Salun’ve evë,” thank you.
“But to get to the briny marine now we would have to go through the Dark Elf regions,” Elessar says stepping forward. “You know of the Déavfth Mįĕsst.”
“Déavfth Ilfs are not welcoming to strangers,” Alassea held her hand out as a blossom nurtured swiftly. “Like all Ilfs they have authority over their environment, you know how Seă and Snov Ilfs have power over ice and water. High Elves have the power over the stones and hills. Wood Elves have power over plant of all regions. Déavfth Ilfs have control over the power of fear, dark mists of fear producing shroud their cities to keep unwarranted visitors out,” She dropped the flower as she pulled slowly with her hand as the earth moved showing unwavering evidence she was a half-breed.
Nodding I stare her in the eyes, “I will do anything to save my people.”
With that our set started hiking to the flats of what the Lúthien Súrion so-called the Déavfth Ilfs. Déavfth meaning death in Wood Elven, Ilf means elf, so they are plainly entitled Death Elves. I had advised flying, but Vasuki had mentioned that we would be too hefty to fly all at once. The excursion would take four days on foot, one a day and a half each to fly somebody there and back. They steered me through the outsized emerald woodlands occupied with great auburn trees, whose greeneries shone in the perky sunbeams. Ferns and underbrush enclosed the impenetrable tree ranks. Twitters would disrupt my philosophy for petite episodes of time then just as hurriedly die down; I look up as I tread through the copses and I see chocolate and jade hues rushing around at the awnings of the trees. I assumed these were birds at first, then Elemmire walking next to me enlightened me, “You see those bright flashes up in the high canopies of the trees, those are not bird like you would think. They are what we call Sphäira Bõåll – spirit balls – they are remnants of those who could not make it to Fertro Sven-tor or the World of the Divines.” I gesture assenting, after a quite a few hours of roaming through the forestry I notice the shades of the orbs started to vitiate.
Not far later I notice it is beginning to get obscurer around the nadirs of the timberland, sun light declining gradually, an unnatural feeling began skulk above me making me query whether it was safe to travel now. The Lúthien Súrion did not give the impression of being intimidated by this, so I did not make a quip.
Looming taunts and snarls can be caught as we permit through the despair filled forestry, I precipitously feel like a squatter. We should go another way, I though trying to convince myself to speak. Feeling of being watched trickle into my core, mayhap we should go another way, though I do not have the temperament to say this to the Lúthien Súrion without the lacking of being anxious that I was being arbitrated.
The Lúthien Súrion were precipitously hunkered drawing their longbows, I undertone subpoenaing my ice foil. “What is it?” I investigate, as the start to move surreptitiously headfirst; I notice an obscure amount stirring out of the junction of my eye. “What the in the netherworld was that?”
I am hushed by Elemmire who tenses her longbow with a long shrill bolt; her bearing told me she was arranged to loose the shaft at a second’s notice. I could not catch them inhale, it must have been the long stalking outings the Lúthien Súrion took to pursue for nutrition for the total clan; though they had more than one pursuing gathering at a phase. Feet deliberately hobbled on the spineless topsoil as our cluster made our way advancing. Unfriendly gusts wafted over us conveying shudders down my backbone. A loud shriek, and Elessar hurdles at me directly at me, colliding with me into the rigid challenging gravel as I watch the others jump out of the way, as a tree criticizes the earth with a hit and recoil back to its unusual station.
Elessar yells in to the black night, “Erive selp cofenweo si,” these words were unknown to me. So I waited back leasing Elessar to contract with it; a collection of seven to ten Lúthien Súrion sauntered out of their façade, shaken I bared my ice weapon.
An awkward chocolate haired and skinned male promenade up to Elessar, he would have to be the handsomest Lúthien Súrion I had ever appreciated. Shirtless with rock solid abdominals and pecks, he seems to be glaring at Elessar, but a small unrealized smile shows and he laughs, “Elessar my brother what are you doing here? I thought you were engaged to Elemm…” he breaks as he notices Elemmire, who walks right next to Elessar.
Alassea gave the impression of rage at the new male, “Why in the abyss did you try to slay us?”
“Oh come, come Alas, I knew you would see it coming. Now tell me why you are not on your way to the High Elves?” Alassea did not appear motivated to riposte specifically when the dragon Vasuki glided out of nowhere seizing the male and firing ice in height into the air as she thundered. He cried in the arms of the dragon.
“Now Vasuki set him down,” she chortled like a young teenager just learning how to practice her supremacies. The all-encompassing beam that strained across her face publicized her bliss.