If you left the forest and Elwin's territory and crossed over a mountain to the West, you would find yourself in a small valley that the descendants of those who fought for the dark side in the first dark war called home.

Unlike others of their kind who settled down, they remained true to their nomadic heritage, but they did not choose a peaceful existence.

Decades before Haldir took his brother Erlan into the forest where they met Penelo, one boy from this tribe would find the eyes of the dark lord on him. He just didn’t know it yet.

…

“How did I get stuck babysitting two incompetent brothers from a fool of a slave who got fed to the wolves because she couldn’t sire another child, as our leader demanded?”

The elf spat at the feet of the two brothers and said, “You should express gratitude for being born male, or else another tribe would have bought you to make up for the failure of a worthless woman.”

Fists clenched. Rage-fueled desire manifested into pure physical aggression. Knuckles met flesh in a bloody dance amplified by the collision of bone on bone that resonated within the forest.

Only the cry of pain from his brother woke him from his desire to pummel the pompous fool to death. A bear had his only family in its jaws, dragging the flailing elf away.

Folas spat out blood and laughed. “That's all you're good for. Just another meal for someone stronger than you.”

Unwilling to do anything but watch his brother vanish, he clenched his fist and smashed it into the already broken nose, silencing the laughter next to him.

“I, Ruven, swear that I will kill you one day.” He looked down at the unconscious elf, spat in his face, and shouted, “Get up Folas, it’s time to head back to the tribe.”

No one ever asked what happened to his brother and he never spoke his name again. That was the way of his people. Ruven would spend the next several years training with the other adults, having proved he was strong enough to survive.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

…

Hello, my child of darkness.

Unfazed by the voice in his head, Ruven replied, “Hello?”

Do you seek power?

“Of course! Who or what are you to offer someone like me power I do not already have?”

I know you are still seeking vengeance over Folas and have been waiting for the right moment.

“That's a given. I must perfect my craft so that he suffers sufficiently to satisfy my desires. How would you know about that?”

I’ve had my eyes on you ever since that day, child of darkness. I seek to grant you absolute authority over those beneath you.

“If what you say is true, what must I do to gain this power you speak of?”

Build a shrine in my name and offer sacrifices. I recommend starting with Folas. After that, bring others under your wing who can follow in your footsteps so that my darkness may spread across the land.

Laughter echoed in the forest. He could taste the fear that would soon drip from his victim's every pore as they clawed at the life slipping through their fingertips.

Ruven spent his free time collecting the bones of dead animals and crafting twine from plant fibers. He used natural pigments from the wildflowers to paint the bones red and purple before tying them together.

After securing his creation to a tree with canine teeth embedded through the twine into the wood, Ruven constructed an altar made from compacted dirt mixed with rocks, tree branches, and whatever else he could find.

“The only missing piece left is to add the blood of my first sacrifice. I hope you’re ready to die, Folas, because I am.”

Weeks of preparation would come to fruition.

“Ready to die? So, this is what you have been up to? Our leader sent me to find you, but I could only find a bloody corpse. Isn’t that a shame?”

Instinct urged Ruven to roll to the side, unsheathing his blade, deflecting Folas's redirected strike away from him. He stomped on the elf’s foot, slammed the pommel of his blade into Folas’s cheek, spun, and landed a backkick to the gut.

“As the child of darkness, I will now soak your blood on my new altar.”

On the ground from the wind being knocked out of him, Folas could do little to stop the sword from stabbing into his arm.

Ruven kicked the weapon aside and gripped Folas by the throat, which turned their scream into a gurgled gasp for breath. Any effort to struggle ended when Ruven slammed them down on the altar, head bouncing back up from the impact.

Now that his sacrifice had been subdued, Ruven pulled out his hunting dagger. He cut off Folas’s clothes, then dug into their flesh.

Blood soaked deep into the altar, which radiated black tendrils of intangible smoke. The smoke coalesced into a ball and slammed into Folas, ending his life.

“Color me impressed, whoever you are. I shall be your child of darkness if you can hold up your end of the bargain and grant me power.”

You may call me Darkness. Fear not, child, for I shall grant you your darkest desires.