Year 4439 5A 'Fifth Age', 39 EC 'Era of Coinage'…
Day 014 'Early of Spring'…
Many years before Natalak arrives in Vashkeil… In the early spring of a nearby human village. Situated at Arkedian, we see a child… holding a strange, small cage, still young and full of life. Dashing out from the door, she heard a call.
"Chifya." A voice called to her, soft and full of love.
What calls was a beautiful elf, a mother, half-moon and half dark elf. She had pure silver hair and a gleaming purple eye. Tall as a newly planted sapling tree.
"But mom, if I don't hurry, they will go. And would take another week of waiting for them to emerge again. I need some of it for a present to Madam Illenar when she returns." Chifya insists.
"Come now, child." Her mother gestures. "There is still time."
Adhering to her command, the young Chifya quickly rushes towards her mother.
Her mother kneels. "How many times have you forgotten to wear this. Every corner of the world holds many dangers." She offers her a pendant, gleaming in dark purple.
"But, Mom, it might drive away those Velithil and the other insects. And it's just the backyard of our village."
"Hush now, dear." Her mother then placed the pendant on her daughter's neck. "I've placed a spell that makes those things attracted to you." After which, she then fixes Chifya's raven silk hair.
"Mom… there is not enough time." Chifya groans, eager to dash out from the house.
"Wait, still, my dear, I'm almost finished." She smiled, rather tickled by her daughter's expression.
"Mom…" Chifya begins to cry.
Then a knock came from the door's frame.
"Lady Xirathen." Call a man, a human. "Apologies for my intrusion… may I borrow some of your time for a moment?"
"Can I go now?" Chifya gazes at her mother, pleading.
"Very well, go now, my dear." Xirathen rubs her head.
"What seems to be the problem?" Xirathen implores.
"It's just that there's someone who needs your aid."
As Chifya runs outside the house, Xirathen and the man then begins a thoughtful conversation.
"Is there anything that I should be informed about?" Xirathen ask, closing the door.
"The man came to us last night. He was wounded, desperate for sanctuary. He is a Hazyrian."
"Where is he now?" She answered as they strolled to where the mayor's house is located.
"He is at the manor house."
"Any weapons he holds, or flags from other nations? Symbols he carries?"
"I was told he had none, but you should be the one to check on him. He might have some secrets hidden."
Conversely, when Chifya saw that she was far from her mother's sight, she went in a different direction. Crossing the boundary of the village, her agile feet led her to a location, hidden, known only by her.
She stops in her tracks, removing the pendant her mother gave her. She wrapped it in clothes and hid it under a rock. She probably deduces that her mother's claim that the pendant attracts what she needs was an invention. A few hundred meters away, there she finds a place, a cave.
She observes her surroundings, sensing if someone is watching her. There was none that she could see or hear. For that, she quickly enters— further as she goes, the light dims, and darkness consumes her. But in darkness did she see… her blood as a dark elf and a moon elf, made darkness like light. Seeing everything, until she comes across a large open cavern.
Underground bioluminescence fills the whole grotto. Flowing waters are there, creating a small pond for some life to thrive, reflecting and harmonising with the surrounding light. Strange underground floras filled every corner of the cavern.
However, Chifya was disappointed; the thing that she sought was nowhere to be seen.
"Please let there be one." She mutters, "Three winters' moon, she waited, and only this day will the Sylvian Creature emerge."
Upset—however, she had the patience to wait. Humming through the centre, she fiddles with her hand at the quiet pond. And through her patience did it appear…
An insect, but it was more like a leaf insect glowing in aquamarine. Additionally, its body emits a mist-like substance, too captivating to look at.
Elsewhere…
Immediately upon their entry into the manor house, the mayor greets Xirathen with respect. He was old, but still had enough energy to live for another ten years or so.
"Ah, it's good that you have arrived, Lady Xirathen."
"The pleasure's all mine, Mayor Morish. I was informed of a particular man."
"Ah, yes." The mayor then leads them to a room. "We did manage to heal some of its wounds, but our healer is still inept to treat a particular injury the man is asking for."
"Is there anything that he ever mentions?"
"Only his name, Velimar, is what he told us." Said the mayor as he opened the room.
Sitting on the edge of the table, his body was full of glistening, indescribable marks. She can tell the man was in his early twenties. As for the mysterious mark, Xirathen can already divulge that this was no ordinary curse.
"The Curse of the Abyss." Xirathen comprehends, her eyes turn serious.
Stepping closer, the man's face showed weariness. He was rather good-looking, but his face showed otherwise. He had white hair that of the Hazyrian race.
"Velimar, is it?" Xirathen calls. "I was told about your name."
Velimar gazes at her, rather shocked to see a dark elf living with humans. "A dark elf?"
"Strange, you are not from around here," Velimar said.
"I am from around here." Xirathen pulls a chair. "And yes, I'm a dark elf. Now, is there something that you didn't tell us?"
Velimar looks around. "I can tell by your face that you know something more than they do." His gaze falls on the mayor and his servants.
"What do you propose?"
"I assumed you already know the curse on my body."
"Yes, and I can remove it… If you are willing."
Velimar's eyes widened, and his mouth was open in shock. "You are not an ordinary dark elf. Are you?"
"I am an ordinary dark elf, just with some knowledge at hand."
Velimar looks through the window. Pausing— contemplating another word.
"How many are living in this village?"
"That's a strange question for you to ask?"
"I am not playing games; I would very much like to speak with you alone." He gazes back at Xirathen.
The elf sighs deeply. "Very well." She turns around, giving a gestured look at the mayor.
The mayor nods and orders the guards stationed in the room to withdraw.
"Now, if there are any secrets that you have right now. I suggest you spill it right now."
"The mayor and his associates are a stubborn people to convince. Perhaps you might tell the village to evacuate. I may have endangered the citizens of this place."
"Any reason why?"
Velimar's eyes sharpen, too tired towards persuasion.
"Look, if you already know about my curse, then you already know what's coming after me," Velimar said. "I am a Veilmage, and a special one… I managed to suppress the curse. But given the time I have used much of my magic, it won't last long." He furthers. "If you want more proof, tell the mayor to bring a truth-seeking orb."
"Adra's eyes won't be required, for I can tell you are telling the truth. But this place will fight for the very—"
"No." Velimar intercepts. "You don't know what is coming. The ones who are hunting me don't give mercy to even those children. They will rake this place once they know I was here. Even if you surrender me to them, it won't matter. They will take whatever they desire."
Xirathen was silent; she had lived long enough to tell whether one is lying or telling the truth. And for a minute there was a long pause.
"I'll go talk to the mayor. I might convince them to take your word." Xirathen stood. "But I first need to remove that bothersome mark."
Leaving the manor house, Xirathen quickly returns home. Searching through the basement, a single wave of her hand undid a seal. Revealing a chest, a dark twin blade was shown.
Packaging the blade in thick clothes, she returns to where the cursed man lies.
"Don't fret," Xirathen spoke when she revealed the twin daggers at Velimar. "I will need this to remove your curse. And best we should find somewhere more enclosed."
Velimar nods, and with that, they enter a dungeon. The Veilmage looks around and sees it is empty, and seems to say that " The village is not as dense as a municipality. Moreover, he was more into what the blade would do to his curse.
As they reach the final room, an old, rotten chair awaits the man. He sits without given command, for he half knew the steps that would happen.
"Stay still," Xirathen advises, raising the two swords into a fang-like pose.
Altering the sword's blade into a ghost-like form. She then plunges through the man's shoulders; it didn't slit the flesh, rather it fuses with the soul of the man. It was as if the blade didn't pierce the skin… rather, it was like the sword was dipped in calm water.
It is not the outside mark from the flesh that Xirathen was looking at, but the cursed chain that jails the soul of the man.
As Xirathen began to pull the two swords, all the markings on the man's skin slowly funnelled their way into the blade. As compensation, the Veilmage felt a very peculiar pain; it was like an acid being driven into his soul.
Velimar, however, have enough resilience for Xirathen to devour the cursed completely. And on the final act of her ritual, she swiftly placed her own cursed mark towards the veil.
Velimar felt the elven mark placed on his shoulder— nevertheless, he was too drained even to lift a finger. Both the blade and the ritual had paralysed his body and soul, so that even casting magic gave no spark.
"Forgive me, but I had to do this for the good of the people living in this village. They are good people who want to have a good life."
Velimar jags, amused by her words. "Funny, a race that dedicates their life to blood and glory… now lives in peace, moreover with the humans?" Velimar said, putting his clothes back on.
"I have already tossed that life away; true, I have killed many, and I cannot change what I was back then. But then again… the world doesn't stay the same, and neither do I." Xirathen then wrapped the blade. "As for you, the mayor's servants will see on your behalf. I will have a meeting with Mr Morish."
Following the ritual, Xirathen was at the table with the mayor, and five village officials were beside him. On the table were maps and food.
Mr Morish sigh heavily. "I believe you, Lady Xirathen…"
"But evacuating hundreds of our people is difficult. It might take us weeks, but what if the man's words aren't true at all?" One of the officials stated, and there's a hint of a sting in his voice.
"I believe Lady Xirathen has always been our village's need when trouble arrives." Morish intervenes. "What do you intend to propose, Madam Xirathen?"
Placing the map of Arkedian, Xirathen contemplated for a second before giving her offer. "We could send a message to the neighbouring kingdom… perhaps Starhim or Thuram, maybe our neighbouring village."
"Well, that is quite a strong suggestion, but what if they don't give a welcome?" Another of the officials intervenes.
"They will, if we try… besides, I advise we send a message to the adventurers' guild."
"But—" Again, the officials try to object.
"Enough, Dron, you can stay in this village if you want. I'm an adventurer, and I know a warrior's instinct, as I know myself very well." Morish slammed his palm on the table. "We will follow Lady Xirathen's offer. End of our meeting."
Elsewhere…
Passing through strange hallways, walls made of odd materials. From the walls, no magic light hangs; in its place, torches light the path. Enter, and we see a dark place where only a small light stretches through it.
In the room, two figures are in conversation.
"I have reports that one of our veilmage prisoners who escaped the prison was perceived at a village there at Arkedian." Spoke a man, his voice hints of fear.
"Any reason why you are reporting me such a failure of yours?" The other figure answered, his tone brimming with infuriation.
"He is one of the special ones, and the abyssal curse was erased from our radar. We might have underestimated his capabilities. He did manage to kill three of our powerful subordinates."
"And do you know what danger you have brought us?" The man's voice is now colder.
"Yes, I know my fault very well, and I am prepared for what sentences you will give."
The man growls… "Send the best hunters, the test subjects… and if ever leave no traces behind. Once this spreads, those churches of light will send their crusades."
Returning to the village, Xirathen returns home, and what she finds is Chifya already on the table. Resting at the centre of the desk lies a cage containing one insect. Additionally, the table was set for dinner.
"You are home!" Chifya announce.
"I see you have prepared dinner…" Xirathen closed the door.
The following morning, a massive meeting was held. One person from one household was invited. It was abrupt, and as things progressed, they gradually escalated. Some complain, others accept, and several decided to stay.
"Half to a year?" One of the villagers complained.
"On what reason is it that we need to abandon our village?" Another shouts.
"Settle down. We do not need to abandon our village." The mayor gestures with his hand.
"And where exactly are we going?"
From the looks and disorder of the mortals, one can say—
"This will take longer than I expected." Xirathen expressed disappointment.
As chaos grew, a certain man walked through the mass. Confident— and as he centres himself from the rowdiness of the people. Soon, the crowds' noise dwindles, only to be replaced by murmurs—living in the village, the man's appearance is new to their memory.
"Good day, citizens of Tharkan, my name is Velimar, and as you know, I am the reason why this village is in danger."
When dusk fell, Xirathen saw some of the villagers hauling important items from their homes. Neatly packing the items on a wagon— It appears that Velimar's word did convince some of the people. Even so, the majority of the village were progressing with their decisions.
Strolling closer to her home, she saw Chifya curiously gawking at the neighbours who were departing from the village.
"Mom, why are they leaving?"
"They're off on a little trip." She said, brushing her hair back. "Nothing to worry about. We'll be joining them before long."
In the heart of a passing night, Chifya would constantly ask questions, which her mother would answer calmly and reasonably.
"Mom, can I go have a last play in the village backyard before we leave tomorrow?"
"Sure, thing my dear, but be sure to come back early." Xirathen firmly hugs her daughter.
"Are we going to brother Vyrn?"
"You will soon see."
Couch on the bed, Xirathen then gave a humming grace, easing the night so Chifya could sleep warmly in the clasp of her mother.
At the crack of dawn, Chifya hurriedly ran back to the cave, and as always, she hid the pendant under a rock. Grabbing the strange plants, she spotted another Velithil. However, the insect crawls along the high ceiling, making it more difficult to grab.
As the hours wore on, little did Chifya know it was now past midday. Through and all, she was smiling, for the thing she desired was now in her hand.
"I forgot!" Chifya then placed the insect in her pocket as she ran back to her village, forgetting the pendant her mother had given her. "I hope Mother would forgive me."
But something was wrong; she looked up at the sky, and it was grey, suggesting that rain was about to fall. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that she was in danger, or perhaps the people she knew, her friends. Focusing her gaze towards her village, there was a hefty smoke arising from where her village is situated.
From jogging to running, ultimately, she arrived, and what she finds isn't something a child should see.
The mayor's body was brutally butchered, and his head was nowhere to be found. Gripping a sword tightly even unto his death, he was cleaved in half, and see that innards spill from his crops. Another of the villagers she knew was burned alive, as some of his parts were disintegrated.
Through the chaos, she saw her mother fiercely fighting a group of unwanted visitors. In the background, Chifya saw a barrier erected, preventing any of the villagers from escaping either by teleportation or by running out of the village. The most intriguing of them all was the walking corpses that surrounded her mother. Some of them are children.
They can be seen as lifeless as a corpse of necromancy. Their body didn't rot; they stayed like elves. And every one of them cast magic that is even more powerful than an average mage. Surveying through her surroundings, Xirathen's body was in an ethereal form, making any magic unavailing to her.
A quick change later, she saw Velimar struggling to fight a peculiar man, possibly the cult leader. Sprinting towards her mother, one of the cultists grabs her by the neck. And through her cries, her mother quickly came to her aid.
Once the man saw how desperate Xirathen was, he already perceived their relation.
"Stay back or I'll kill her." The man grips Chifya's hair and places an unholy sword to her neck.
When Xirathen saw the sword, she immediately knew its capabilities and thus quickly stopped in her tracks.
"Now that's a good elf…" The man smiled. "I would appreciate it if you reverted to your original form, moon elf, or whatever blood you have."
Through a mother's love, watching Chifya cry in despair was earth-shattering to her. And as mothers do, she obeys what the man commands.
"Okay, let us end this once and for all." One of the mages implores, arranging his offensive spell.
"Hold." The man gave the mage a cold eye. He looked at the sword lying on the ground and smiled. "Why don't you plant a blade in your innards, elf?" The man continues, kicking the sword in Xirathen's direction.
Hesitating and in her wavering, the man gave a wound at Chifya's neck. And in the cries of her daughter, she plunges the common sword, piercing her flesh so that it went through her back.
Amused— just as the man was thinking of another way of torture. Chifya thought of the Velithil from her pocket. While her jailer was distracted, she reached through her pockets and squeezed the insect tightly, turning her flesh into ghost-like.
On that single moment of hope, Xirathen swiftly pulls the sword. And revenged did she go to deliver… to the enemies, there was nothing they could do but wait as the elf's ethereal form slices them to death. The man, however, sprinted away, tossing the mages as his cannon fodder.
Those seconds of Chifya turning into a wraithlike figure faded. Nevertheless, it was enough for her mother to snatch her to a safe distance.
"Xirathen, your mark!" Velimar comes, holding his wounded abdomen.
Abiding by his proposal, she quickly erases the suppression curse. Once removed, a surge of powerful magic was unleashed. He looked around and saw the remaining villagers were now caged by magic, probably to be used as the cult's test subjects.
It was to be seen that what he brought cannot be undone, as all village guards lay mutilated. Blood spilt everywhere, and the innards of the dead littered the ground from their corpses.
Guilt and anger, Velimar unleashed what truly is a different Veilmage to a common one. Shattering the barrier first, the mage then scatters hundreds of golden orbs, sending every piece to every villager, dead or alive. In a single clamouring clap of his hand, all the villagers are swiftly teleported.
For Xirathen, she looked one last time at Chifya and spoke. "Live Chifya."
Chifya tries to grasp her mother, but is soon teleported.
"Shit!" Velimar kneels, and the wounds in his abdomen start to grow a hole.
"My magic is designed for people like you." The man then tore off his deformed face, revealing a more proportional look.
Once the man had removed his disguise, Velimar already felt that what he was facing was familiar to his magic.
"You 're-you're a Veilmage? Why?" His eyes widen, his mouth opens for an answer.
"That… is not of your concern." The man then returns the flesh mask.
"Tch…" Velimar sneers, gazing at the man who now looks down at him in a cold stare. "If this is to be my end, then—" He lunged forward, pressing both of his hands against the man's face. "Let's see who among us is the better race." Velimar adds.
Velimar then wielded both of his hands on the man's face, pouring all his essence, his life, his Veilmage essence. Erasing the man's disguise, golden cracks slowly appear, spreading all over his body. To save himself from fatality, the man cast a teleportation towards Velimar, cancelling his spell. And it would seem that he, too, suffers a major blow.
To the ground he fell, and steams of burned flesh started to rise from his body. Accomplices came, quickly teleporting him to a sanctuary.
We looked at Xirathen and noticed a pause. She stood in the centre of the enemy, still in her ghostly form. She gasps heavily, waiting for one to enter her in a duel. Then a man suggests.
"We should leave…"
"But—" One of the henchmen intervenes.
"If you want to toss your life away, feel free to stay. There is nothing much we can do in here. And carry all the remaining evidence, wouldn't want the churches to track us down." The man then teleports himself, and the others soon follow.
Unmoving from her spot, and once sensing that the enemies had fled, she soon collapsed from her injuries.
On the dawn that follows, we see a figure running through the desolated village. Clad in a knight's platemail, her armour was wrapped in golden fur. Sword and shield unveil, in preparation for what enemies to meet.
Although her vision is vivid, for fate is coming. She could tell that the person had golden hair.
"Illenar, is that you?" Xirathen tries her best to speak.
"Yes, Xirathen, I am here." The woman with golden hair gently clasps her hand.