“Green-marked? You speak of the green elfwin of the western Eldon and Albion kingdoms then?” asked Zulema.
“Yes. The very same.” Derleth paused for a moment. “However, this was many millennia ago, before the elfwin tribes ultimately settled down in the various regions of the planet, during their nomadic migrations.”
“Is it time for a history lesson now?” The priestess sighed impatiently.
“While humans were still in their evolutionary infancy, the territory of the other races were vast—but none more so than the elfwin. The ones that went south to Ulthar grew mighty and fierce under the sweltering heat of the desert lands, attaining their gatin-like qualities and eventually becoming the red elfwin you know today.” Derleth presented a hand to Zulema, where a miniature glacial sculpture of a fierce looking elf formed in his large palm. It danced in place, swinging its two blades hypnotically, acting out an invisible marionette battle at the eldritch man’s whim in an attempt to make his story seem more interesting to the priestess. “They were led by the Great One Hecatia—red elf queen destined to become one of the Trifather's three wives.”
“Hecatia was real?” Her eyes were locked to the small spinning figure. “I mean, I had read about her miracles, but I had taken them for fairytales. Then am I to assume the other two elfmothers were real living beings as well?”
“Indeed. They would not yet be chosen by the Trifather Cthugha to attain their godhood status for a few more centuries, however. For the moment, they were simply his consorts.” The effigy in his hand multiplied, splitting into three different elfwin women. One figure held two blades at her side, another held a staff, and the third held a balance scale. They were the three elfmothers, progenitors of elfwin kind.
“That’s very beautiful,” Zula remarked, marveling at the intricacies of the tiny statues rotating in his hand like some kind of illusion.
Derleth stared stone-faced at his creation and the focus shifted to the elf woman holding the scales. “Yhoundeh, the gold elf queen, led her people to the east towards the oceans where they adapted to life in the water. At constant war with the ancient aquatic tribes of the Dagon over territory, most of their kind have gone extinct. Because of that, the rest of her people learned to be harsh and judgmental—especially of themselves.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a gold elf before. I’ve heard they can swim faster than any other living being.” Zulema wore a puzzled expression. “But I have never heard of these Dagon. Which is scary to think, considering they wiped out most of those poor Yhoundians.”
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“The Dagon are a foul race of fishlike beings. They live deep in your oceans even now, but because they are extremely territorial, they will sometimes swim ashore to eliminate any possible threat.”
“Then I suppose next you’re going to tell me about the… Artemaians,” guessed Zulema. “I believe that is their formal name. Although I’ve only ever heard my grandmother call them that. She’s told me practically everything about them. How the green scale patterns on their faces are unique to each one. How they have a keen sense of the planet’s natural energies and use it for simple magicks. How supposedly they can fly, but no human’s ever actually seen it. She claims she has, but I rarely believe a word that comes out of that old woman’s mouth. But they’re also very devout, which I can’t fault them for as I suppose we have at least that in common. You know, she makes it sound like a grand expedition learning about another culture, but she constantly talks out of her ass. Eldon is a resort country! It must be sooo difficult living off the land when you chose to drive off with a convoy of hippie freaks! And then she gives me guff for staying home and working my butt off to serve my lady of madness, but continuously coddles Alma just because she stupidly hangs off her every word!”
“Yes, followers of the elf queen Artemaia." The priestess’s rather aimless rant failed to register in his mind. "As you have said, the green-marked ones have a strong religious order, with a healthy penchant for superstitions. While many now have modernized, settling in the coastal religious cities of Eldon, their predisposition has led quite a few of them to branch off into smaller occultic orders now famously situated in the forested and mountainous regions of Albion. Secret groups that joined with dwarfwin sects who practiced alchemy, studied sacred geometry, performed rites and rituals that incorporated astrology, astronomy, music and mathematics. It was in these ways, that they discovered there was more to the world than their base knowledge. But this story begins much earlier than that.” His voice grew gruff, filling the priestess with a strange sense of sorrow. “When I first laid eyes on Artemaia.”
“Wait—so the woman you fell in love with was elfmother of the green elfwin?” Zulema was in a state of captivated shock. “Oh dear. I can definitely see how things couldn’t have ended well for you. What could have possibly possessed you to do such a thing?”
“Cthugha did not treat his women equally. As you could tell, he had a queen to serve each of his heads. Artemaia served the aspect of Temperance. Yhoundeh served the aspect of life. Unfortunately, his aspect of rage was the dominant aspect at times, and as such, favored his chosen queen Hecatia. Yhoundeh remained indifferent, but it was Artemaia who felt scorned.” Derleth had a complicated expression on his face. “Having such a perennial existence, I’ve gone through many changes of the self. I was a different being then. I coveted her. And I thought I could take her for my own.”