Dansir woke up in the middle of the night.

Something was happening.

His body tensed up while he stealthily moved in the shadows of the rustic buildings master had taught them how to build.

Dansir had a good life under master, but then he became unable to grow. First he had many females and walked right besides master, but them the younger took his place.

Dansir felt like an old man, even if he wasn’t all that old.

True Elves could live for quite a while, but they usually didn’t. There were too many dumb ways to die, and their species had a truly remarkable ability to explore all of them.

Dansir stepped on the shadows of the last building he could access. Moans came from places near him, and he felt that those still awake were stupid.

There were many as able as him, but unable to hold themselves when the females were given to them.

On every tribe ever, the Master would take the females and give only the ugly ones to the other males.

But on Masters’ tribe all the Females were given to those who knew how to follow Master, not how to beat others.

So, some of the smart and strong, but wild, would eventually expend all night with the females, and then would be too tired to follow Master.

The females didn’t have to worry too much. They could be dumb if they had good bellies. If they could make children, then Master wouldn’t kill them.

Even the females with bad bellies could live if they could follow Master.

The females cared not for the health of those who couldn’t control themselves. They needed children in their bellies, and if someone didn’t push them out at night, they would jump on them and make them tired. 

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And then Master would kill them.

Dansir ignored the moans and threw himself on the ground.

This Master had taught them, so they wouldn’t be seen by beasts.

If Master could see Dansir now, maybe Master would give Dansir praise. But Master wouldn’t care for a single Elf in the mud. Even if Master could see them all, Dansir knew that, as long as he faked to be just strolling randomly in the middle of the night, Master wouldn’t see him.

Master was scary.

Dansir didn’t want to get Masters’ attention, so he only learned what he had to in order to follow Master. Soon, in the middle of a field, Dansir saw what the commotion was.

A young child had been born with teeth and kicking, and now its skin was turning purple while it grew weird markings on its body.

Dansir shuddered at the scene.

This was a Mages’ child, a cursed one.

Some wanted to learn Masters’ divine powers at the beginning, but soon Cursed Children started to be born from those who mingled in it.

Once a female touched Master. It held its Cursed Child in hand, asking for Masters’ help, but Master ignored it.

Dansir thought Master refused to see the Child because he didn’t like to look at ugly things, but the truth was that he couldn’t see it.

And then, when Master was touched, he spat fury over her, making Dansir think the Cursed ones were to be forever left out of Masters’ sight.  

Somethings would forever be occult to the Overseer of this world, and someone had to pay the price for it.  

The child started to spit fire from its markings, and everyone was panicking. Soon Master would be affected by it, and become weird again.

They quickly took the childs’ mother and opened her womb. Inside, they found a bright stone adorned with a fiery rune in reddish colors.

The mother tried to cry, but everyone held her mouth closed. She bit someones’ finger, and then they shoved a whole hand in her mouth and she couldn’t bite anymore.

They took the rune and bashed the Cursed Child in the head with it.

Blood flowed down like a small river, tainting the earth and making bone sprouts appear in the dirt.

Those flourished into bone powder flowers, and its nauseating aroma spread around the place.

Everyone hung their noses, as that was magic smell - once one sniffed it, their bodies would ache all over, they would start to vomit and crap themselves, and then they would have a high fever which would make them mad.

The Cursed Child died, and someone had to pay the price.

If Dansir was a man from earth, then maybe he would compare magic to radiation, and the children of magicians with deformed children born of exposure to it.

Except, of course, Magic wasn’t such a thing - and these children weren’t cursed at all.

Dansirs’ Master would be overjoyed if he could see the so called “Cursed Children” been born.

But he couldn’t. And forever he wouldn’t be able to.

Some things must be forever occult to the Overseer.