Why now? We have a lot to do, not all of our companions are trained yet, in fact some do not even want to be dark elves, we were called forest elves, now those of us who live in the mushroom forests are night elves, the rest out of fear, love for the past or simple desire to serve the new lord of the Alcaraz decided to remain forest elves, the mushrooms continue to reproduce, providing a fresh, dark forest within a kilometer radius and by the end of the decade will have the lushness of our old home.... Just at this moment, the high elves decide to come!
They arrived seven days ago, they don't look like our former slavers, these ones are small, they are distinguished by their low magic level, a group of 20, most of them seem to be sons of the old high elves, dressed in fine clothes they came to the forest with bravado, camped outside and then armed with courage they entered two days ago, some shouting that they are the rightful owners of these forests, that we must surrender and hope that the punishment is not too severe that would prevent us from serving them in a week.
Come to think of it, there were those who were tempted to obey authority, once again our forest brothers thought that having someone to tell them what to do was better than facing the silent terror of not knowing what to do with their lives now that there was no one to tell them, when food must be harvested for their sustenance and not because some fat ambassador comes to visit, it will take several years for the culture of servitude to change, at least those of us who chose the night are not like that, at my command the dark elves went on the attack.
It would be an insult to call this revenge, I had waited more than 200 years, my young brothers still had in their eyes a fresher hatred, the anger of one who discovers in the misery where he lives and the possibilities of being, someone alive, an elf, a society that serves no one, Once we knew these forests, we did not stop practicing, bows with arrows are a typical weapon of us, but now we had some light swords and the magic of the forest, it was not free, but we gladly paid 10% of our lives to feed ourselves with these mushrooms that we had planted for years without knowing how beneficial they were.
The first arrow was shot by the youngest of our people, a boy of 70 human years, the arrow flew without fancy bows, without a hiss of feathers to give it stability, it is just a hard piece of wood shot by a longbow embedded in the eye of some attacker, they discovered that they were not as respected or popular as they thought, they took out many scrolls and began to cast spells, bad luck for them, the dark lord had foreseen this.
We spent three months without being able to leave, the Dark Lord invoked some long spells, more complicated than those used by the previous owners, then he chose some of us (I was among them) he asked us to transport some of the mushrooms we grew for our consumption and the castle, they were planted in a place he chose, then he used his sword and struck with incredible power, the blow penetrated to the lowest strata where there is an underground lagoon, He tells us that our rivers have dried up because the former owners of the Alcazar collected all the water for their own use, leaving huge ecosystems to die, thanks to the water that comes out of the crack made by the Darklord, the mushrooms are planted at night, at that moment I see the power of this man, his aura shines, it is a bright field, His aura is shining, it is a bright field, full of hope, when I hold him close to me it is dark, gloomy, but here he is working in this forest that is growing by the moment, he is relaxed, happy, in one single night the mushroom sprouts grew one meter, in the morning we were left with the responsibility of watering them, it was a task that was as hard as a dream to be able to do it with the wind blowing in our faces.
In the weeks that followed, the Darklord spent the nights making the mushrooms grow, and during the day he led a company that was determined to grow more, they wanted to experience what they did not know and had not seen, we all feared that he would collapse from exhaustion, but it did not happen, as a month passed, The forest had peaks that were lost in the heights, at the height of our shoulders were clusters of various mushrooms as bushes stored rich meat in their protuberances, of course we knew of poisons and some of the mushrooms were not good, but the rest were and that night we dined opulently, the best was the tattoo ceremony.
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That night, while we resisted with clenched teeth the passage of his fingers that marked runes all over his body, he spoke to us, he said that these tattoos were a contract with the forest, that we were part of the forest, he warned us that we would live a little less than the rest of the elves, in return he pointed to our tattoos and warned us that they would take energy from the forest, as it was a contract in every rule, we had to defend it from physical attacks, but the magical ones would be stopped by the atmosphere of the place, Their trunks were immune to most magic, these balls of flame thrown by the young men, now hysterical, attack us more as a measure of disbelief, waiting for some result, little by little my hunters and I eliminate them, the magic the Dark Lord promised us is still elemental, We do not know how to invoke it in its pure form, but we can cover the arrowheads with ice magic so that it penetrates and freezes the muscles of those who suffer from these wounds, giving the warriors hidden in the bushes time to strike the final blow.
The last of them, of clothes of greater splendor (not at all distinguishable soaked in blood) with an arrow in the thigh and another on the side, takes out a parchment wrapped in gold leaf, begins an incantation of lava, this is a difficult magic, The flames are outlined as a very hot beam, if it had hit one of us we would be dead, but the spell hits the trunk a few centimeters from my face, The heat is so strong I can taste it, I raise my bow and am so angry at the power it has just because I am a wealthy elf that I draw the string without an arrow, my eyes focused on it, something feels in my hands, cool as the night breeze, A faint glow forms between my fingers and fits like a bright arrow, until when I shoot I can see the beauty of the arrow, silver with feathered fins similar to those of a phoenix, the shot hits his chest, he still manages to shout "I will be avenged", then he begins to shiver and manages to mutter "... how cold" and falls. ... how cold" and falls to the ground.
The battle ended without any casualties, the bodies of all the high elves are clean, without scars or traces of training, some still have some scrolls, we stripped them because they might be useful for our lord, at the end I go for the "general" or rather whoever was in charge, as I approach the body I notice a slight smoke coming from it, Fearing some surprise I approach him alone, looking at him closely I can see that he has no burning tissue or where he received the arrows or where my magic hit him, unbelievably he is still breathing, apparently my attack caused paralysis, calmly I remove the scrolls and break the arrows leaving only the tips inside, I sit down to wait.
When he comes to his senses he looks at me as if he can't believe what he sees, there is nothing left of my emaciated and starving body, I have developed enough muscles tending to these newborn forests and my skin is dark as ebony due to the effect of the tattoos, where the arcane lines run through me it is an even more intense black, I imagine they are attacking madly and it is the first time in the whole battle that they know who they are facing, immediately he looks for his scrolls, I guess healing, when he sees that he has none he casts some curses, takes a bottle from his sleeve and drinks it, at that moment he gets up, runs away laughing, he thinks he can escape, I give him one, two, three seconds before I go after him.
He is very slow and fast I reach him, maybe he is not as dull as the others, when he feels me he turns and throws a blow with a cutlass that I did not see when I checked him, but it is a telegraphed blow, I turn around and hit him in the face with the hilt of my knife, when he falls to the ground he curses again, the worst was when I approached him, at that moment he cries out "denier of the light, abominable being that claims to be an elf, we are his masters, the bloodthirsty elves will dance on his bones, if you want to kill me do it with an arrow, I do not want to kill him, abominable creature who calls himself an elf, we are his masters, the bloodthirsty elves will dance on his bones, if you want to kill me, do it with an arrow, I don't want your infectious body to come any closer" I took my bow, with a normal arrow I aimed at his head, then with a smile I threw him aside, I approached and between the screams of the disgusting enemy I cut his neck.
The Darklord has been gone for three months, this group of elves is obviously working for someone else, the treasure of the new master of the Alcazar is guarded by forest elves, I am the head of our family, I will have to lead a few against an undefined horde, But I feel determined, I will train everyone in the use of magic, we must be ready, I will not allow anything to put a finger on their treasure, nor ours, they will never own the Dark Forest is ours and I will defend it until the source of power, the Darklord returns.