The elves traveled light and covered ground like an arrow from a bow atop their majestic elvish steeds. Luna had never seen such beautiful and well-conditioned horses in her life. They had been traveling through the forest all day and the sun was just beginning to set.
Most of the trees in Nisse were towering ancient cedars with gracefully drooping branches—the pale blue green leaves were so dense that they nearly blocked out the sun. Luna found the place breathtakingly gorgeous, though the near darkness left her with a lingering gloomy feeling. The company of elves slowed to a halt upon receiving a quick hand signal from Tyriel at the spearhead.
A small elven village lay before them just off the dirt road that twisted and wound through the dense forest. Elegantly curved stairways wrapped around the wide trees leading up to platforms holding complex organic structures. The buildings were unlike anything Luna had ever imagined. The artistry and attention to detail is unbelievable. Even the most skilled of human artisans wouldn’t be able to match this level of precision. Her moment of awe towards the elven town was cut short when Luna noticed the looks of concern on the faces of the mounted elves all around her.
Tyriel’s brow scrunched, angling his thin eyebrows sharply downward. With the grace of a swan he swung down from his black steed, sniffing the air before narrowing his eyes and scanning the woods that surrounded the village. The elves around Luna dismounted with a sense of urgency that made her instantly nervous. Readying themselves for danger, they drew their bows and blades. Luna dismounted the white mare she had been riding and looked around with anxious eyes. Nothing stuck out to her. What could have these elves on edge like this? She made her way to the front of the convoy near Tyriel and that’s when she noticed something quite strange about the village. Where are all the inhabitants of the village? An eerie quiet hung over the town.
After an intricate series of hand signals and a quick look over his shoulder, a group of elves stepped up beside their leader. Together they started ascending the stairway to the treetop village. Luna looked around, grappled with her curiosity for a moment, then made a quick decision. Moving with haste, she tiptoed up the stairs behind Tyriel and his group of chosen warriors. An elf near the back glanced over at her and shook his head. She was worried that Tyriel would look back and notice her. The thought struck her that he might belittle her or send her back down to wait with the rest of the company. That exchange never occurred though—Tyriel was entirely focussed on the fate of the village, his village.
When they got to the top of the stairs, it became immediately apparent to Luna that something terrible had happened in this place. Blood stained the gray oak platform beneath their feet. Many of the colorful glass windows in the buildings had been smashed out, the floor was littered with shards of broken glass. Tyriel and his warriors became visibly upset. Before long they began muttering curses in a language Luna couldn’t understand. The gravity of the scene hit Luna like an unexpected fist to the stomach when she noticed the lifeless bodies of elven men and women hanging from the tree branches. Tears rolled down the faces of the elves like rain on a window. Stars, who could do something so terrible?
Tyriel and his soldiers split up and set off exploring the ravaged village. Luna felt sick to her stomach. She stumbled backwards until she bumped into the hard bark of a tree. With misty eyes she sank to the floor, pulling her knees in close to her chest. She was no stranger to violence and she couldn’t put her finger on exactly why the macabre scene had struck such a chord with her. I don’t even know these elves. I’ve never been to Nisse before. I’ve seen more than my fair share of violence. But this is…wrong. To kill a warrior is one thing, but slaughtering townsfolk indiscriminately like this is…unforgivable…it’s…outright evil.
Luna closed her eyes and she sobbed intensely. When she finally collected herself, Luna stood up tall, then wiped her eyes with her tattered tunic. Luna approached a raven haired elven woman and tapped her on the shoulder gently. “Excuse me, have you seen Tyriel?”
The dark haired elf had a fire smoldering in her eyes that threatened to consume her. She exhaled deeply and looked down at Luna. After staring holes in Luna, the elf pointed to a large domed structure. “Last I saw he was in there.”
Luna offered a subtle nod, as if to say thank you, I apologize for your loss and a dozen other sentiments that would do nothing to ease the pain of the elves. With her eyes shifted to the floor, Luna walked towards a long rope bridge that connected the two incredible tree structures. She tentatively dangled one foot out over the bridge, pressing her foot down to make sure the bridge wasn’t compromised. No need to fall 50 or so yards down to my death today. Luna thought, shaking her head.
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Once she felt reasonably sure the bridge was structurally sound enough to hold her weight, she stepped gingerly across it.
While the area she had just come from seemed to be a cluster of many houses surrounding the massive cedar, this side of the bridge appeared to be one massive domed structure built into the tree. The large double doors before her were closed. Luna stepped up to them before having a moment of hesitation. Should I really be seeking out Tyriel right now? I’m sure the last thing he needs right now is a pesky human bothering him. But…my curiosity is growing like a cactus in the desert.
Luna brushed the dirt off her clothes and exhaled through her nose. She cracked her knuckles in a weak attempt to reassure herself, then pushed open the heavy doors. When she stepped into the hall she gasped at the scene before her.
The most wonderful murals she had ever laid her eyes on covered the walls and domed roof—painted crudely over the murals in what appeared to be gore were pointed words like heretics, faithless, and devils. Luna’s breath caught in her throat as she processed the scene. In the center of the room was a mound of battered elven bodies piled taller than Luna. She retched and fought back the urge to vomit. The smell of death permeated this once beautiful place. Kneeling before the pile was Tyriel. He lay on his hands and knees as if he were praying.
As Luna approached him she knew immediately that he wasn’t praying, he was weeping. The sound that echoed through the chamber was like an orchestra playing out of tune instruments. With a heavy sigh, Luna’s head dropped. She stood there frozen like a stream in the winter, entirely unsure what words she could possibly offer that would adequately match the tone of the grizzly scene. In the end she decided it best to remain silent.
Tyriel continued his lamentations for a time. Eventually he sat back on his knees forcing himself to look directly at the mound of bodies. Without acknowledging Luna, he whispered words dripping with venom, “My soul overflows with hatred. My thirst for vengeance is unquenchable. My desire for justice, and my obsession with victory have coalesced. My ancestors' memories will live on through my actions. I will become the eternal night that drives my enemies insane. I will raze their temples and salt their lands so that it will be unlivable for centuries.”
Luna stood jaw open as she tried to process what Tyriel was saying. “Does that mean you know who committed these terrible crimes?”
Tyriel whirled like a top to his feet and laughed hysterically as he stalked towards Luna. “Do I know who committed these crimes, she asks?” Without warning Tyriel launched his fist out and smashed a wooden table into a hundred pieces. Ornaments and ceramics went flying. “For centuries, I have watched as my people were persecuted and slaughtered. The enemy has taken many cunning forms over the years, but my beloved ancestors were always too merciful to do what needed to be done.”
Amazement froze Luna for a moment. “So the legends are true? Elves do live forever?”
"Forever?” Tyriel responded as if pondering the very meaning of the word. “In theory…yes. But theory and reality very rarely find themselves in alignment, young one.”
“Why would anyone seek to persecute your kind?” Asked Luna.
“They believe my kind to be unnatural. An affront to their bloodthirsty deity.” Tyriel shook his head and turned to exit the desecrated hall.
Luna followed him and gasped aloud when she connected the dots, “The Church of Embers! Someone needs to hold them accountable for their crimes!”
Tyriel stepped onto the platform and looked down at his warband. “Very astute, young one. For too long we’ve been unable to meet Bohlkov head on. We’ve had to resort to guerilla warfare, hitting them where we can and disappearing back into our forest like apparitions.” He was grinding his teeth loudly, anger threatening to consume him, then he turned and looked Luna straight in the eyes. “You see now, my race is dying, Luna. It’s been over a century since an elf has been born. Our extinction at the hands of the Bohlkovians was only a matter of time. But you, dear girl, have changed all of that.”
“Me? But…how?” Luna looked up at him confused.
“With the amethite you’ve stolen for us, we will face the Bohlkovians head on and we will burn the Church of Embers to the ground.” With eyes still puffy and red, the corner of Tyriel’s thin lips curled up into a smirk.
The vehemence in the leader of the elves' words sent shivers down Luna’s spine.