An alien landscape to one may be home to another, but that home can become alien even to its people. One such creature gazed dispassionately out into the forest. The tall trees cast deep shadows where any number of dangers could lurk, yet he wasn’t concerned for his life. Survival had become second nature: he could easily forage for enough food, keep himself sheltered, and make repairs or clothes as needed. 

A day like any other.

For now, he lay on a trunk high up in a tree, the branch alone wider than himself and offering security more than comfort as he polished his dagger. Taking extra care with the ruby in the hilt, he prepared to hunt later, as he had every day. Since the fall of the Elven kingdom, Anosora, life had been more or less like this: staying alone by choice and living as well as he could. 

An electric feeling in the air.

The tall, pale being rose from his perch, intrigued by the intangible sensation in the air, which felt like a piece of himself had come back and was telling him to run.

He bolted towards the feeling without the barest hesitation: two-thousand years had been a long time to wait. The trees and branches wooshed past and his frame flew through the canopy silently. There was an impact and a thundercrack, followed by a cacophony of shrieks and wails.

No

The tall being’s head shot around and he slowed, his eyes latching onto something hidden; his hair stood on end, his flesh pebbled into goosebumps, and a very mortal fear filled his immortal heart. Still, he could not be deterred, though his pace certainly quickened. He navigated through the treetops with grace, not disturbing even a single leaf as he travelled with all of his focus on reaching the source of that electric feeling calling to him.

His eyes darted to the light of a fairy’s wings, which was soon after followed by many more. Moments later, he could see some kind of tear suspended in the air. Through it, he saw bright sunshine and trees of a different sort. The tear was slowly knitting itself closed and the fairies flew through the gap and to the other side, instinctively drawn by the energy. He felt a flash of anger and frustration; he would not make it in time.

“Foul things!” He howled, tearing his throat from the strain.

The fairies cackled from the other side, playfully mocking the elf, as they did not understand his despair.

The tear sealed the rest of the way and he could only watch from his perch. The sunlight that poured through was now gone, plunging the area in dull grey light and stripping the vibrancy of life from the very air. He collapsed on the branch and took several steadying breaths before coming back to his senses as he distantly registered the sound of a living calamity tearing through the forest to this location.

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He continued leaping through the treetops, passing by a few other denizens and even outpacing the centaur at full gallop. Though they were all fleeing for their lives, he wasn’t quite arrogant enough to believe that he was free from harm simply due to there being slower prey.

The sound of the creature suddenly changed, no longer on the warpath, but thrashing around, ripping and tearing at everything around it. 

It wasn’t hunting. Why did it come? 

He slowed and took a position amidst the canopy to observe. He narrowed his gaze and saw some of the groundlings fleeing, noting their heading in case he needed to avoid them later. The creature seemed not to notice them as it rooted around as if looking for something. 

Seems it wanted out, too.  

His face twisted into a grimace. He had no love for the groundlings, and they no love for him, but part of him hoped they would escape without drawing attention - 

One of the centaurs tripped and tumbled head over shoulders, whinnying in fear. The response was even louder: the sound of a hundred screams and the thrashing of a large creature.

For just a moment, he pitied the centaur and the idiot friend that came back for him. They were too slow and they didn’t understand how the beast thought. All the same, he wasn’t about to lift a finger to help those bastards; they’d have tried to beat him to death. It was all moot in the face of a true monster that only knew hunger, anyways. 

It's here.

His breath caught in his throat, his skin changed from dull grey to dull green, and his hair blended into the leaves around him. His body could no longer be distinguished from the rest of the tree canopy as he quelled his fear and prepared himself for what he knew he would see. Through the gaps in the canopy, he observed with a detachment formed by the last harsh two thousand years. 

The first warped leg came into view, heaving forward with no attempt at grace, yet economic in every twitch of muscle. The weight of several elephants came down with each step. A bulbous eye on its knee spiraled around, seeking, bloodshot, and maniacally eager. Below it, a mouth and jaw were gnashing in a scream. 

As the leg passed out of sight, he saw the creature's side rising up from its thick-bodied base. Blacker than tar and slick, the creature undulated with each step, warping and twisting at will. He couldn’t look away, both for survival and a grim fascination. It had only been a matter of seconds, but the beast moved quickly. Inexhaustible and impatient, it sought out those who made sound or moved: anything that lived.

The two centaur weren’t idle, but one had fractured a leg and was being dragged by the other, the struggling attracting the beast further. From the central mass of the creature rose a neck with a massive head at the end. Eyes popped out of the sides and opened to gaze fully at the centaur, looking upon them with only hunger. There was no sign of intelligence in those eyes, nor malice.

The jaws on the head, and dozens more around the body, all wrenched open in a cacophony of terrible roars and screaming. The centaur shrieked as the monstrosity devoured not only them, but even the ground that they had touched.

The beast moved on then, as if nothing had happened. The faceless creature Uch’l’thein was left behind - unfinished, unkillable, and unstoppable - by a god . It was the most dangerous, and yet most helpful, beast.

Drawing every being around, magic had returned to the Grey Realm, if only for a moment.

And the fairies had to be the first ones to get to it. 

He smiled at the irony. Lowest of the food chain, the most annoying - and borderline idiotic in his opinion - species had been able to capitalize on the moment. He fled the scene with the intent to return later. 

Even after all this time of living in pain and suffering, he could not stop the tears at the misery he felt in the face of a stolen opportunity to get back a part of himself: his magic. An ancient who had lived many thousands of years, Thu’lain cradled his head as he wept.

End Chapter 1