Completed The Absence of Mercy and Empathy

[Soleil Verdane]

OUTSKIRTS OF ALYR'SYLINA​

Soleil couldn't be more excited. She had thought that with the coming of the Republic, missions like this would be no more. And this was a mission like the ones of old. No rules. No compromise. No mercy. Butchery.

Two Initiates, of which Soleil was one, had been tasked with the massacre of the entire elven village of Alyr'Sylina. A lightning strike of retaliation against the militant elven group known as the Fellowship; this as a reprisal for the inciteful killing of several Initiates, among other atrocities.

Soleil and her accomplice were told that everyone in Alyr'Sylina was Fellowship or Fellowship sympathizers. In truth, Soleil did not care if they were or if they were not. She was merely happy that she was being turned loose. She no longer needed to pretend and she no longer needed to restrain herself.

"Republic? Stupid," Soleil mused as she walked beside her partner. "Rules? Only hindrance. Us? Killers. No need for rules."

She was eager. Excited. Soon the village of some one hundred elven souls would come into view through the trees and the brush, and it would begin.

 

[Leander Urahil]

It wasn’t that Leander thought Soleil was a hindrance. There were worse initiates to be paired up with: namely someone like Lumen or Zinnia. Of course, the biggest issue with Sol was her speech patterns. Worse than Zinnia’s and Vasha’s, yet at the same time at least she didn’t sound like she was about to cry.

More importantly, Soleil thought like him. Yes, the Reupublic was stupid. Yes, rules were a nuisance. Yes, they were killers. So much wisdom in her sentences that were never more than four words. Perhaps Leander could get along with Soleil. Not in public. She was strange and broken, reminding him too much of Charon who had a tendency to be too much of a dog for Liliana.

“Right you are,” the young Urahil agreed, thinking of nothing more than his daydreams of grandeur. Destroying any sort of settlement of elves would be good for his autobiography. Every famous dreadlord that they had ever learned about at the academy— minus Talus and Zana those frauds— had always had a elven encounter. In every encounter, the dreadlord had obliterated them.

“We’ll need to play things smart.” Leander told Soleil. Interestingly enough, he had been paired up with Sol who wasn’t… well, she was human. Sort of. There was something about her magic that was magic, and yet natural to her all at once. He had seen what his nullification could do— almost all initiates who had their appearances changed because of their magic went back to normal. Not all. The poison-fart girl for instance, she stayed purple. On the other hand, Jeremiah— the initiate in their current class who could increase his might and mass through magic? He looked like he had been lifting weights for a thousand years, his head was so small compared to the rest of him!

But that was just his magic, and because he had far more arcane reserves than the average initiate, Jeremiah decided to intimidate everyone by staying that big. The moment Leander used his special ability it was game over. Slightly. Jeremiah actually was a bit of a muscle head. But nothing that the future legendary Leander could handle!

So whether his ability would hinder her or not would be something to discuss now and not later.

“Or maybe not. I doubt they’re expecting us. It’ll be easier than killing a baby.” Is that how the saying went? Something seemed off about it…

Soleil Verdane

 

[Soleil Verdane]

A conversation between Proctors:

"It won't get approved."

"It doesn't need to get approved."

"I agree, but Headmaster Thawne is breathing down our necks."

"Yes, I know, and plenty of Initiates are corrupted by poisonous ideals...but not all of them."

"Just need the right Initiates for this, then? Ones that haven't gotten...comfortable."

"Precisely. And I'm thinking Verdane and Urahil."

* * * * *​

A favored tactic among the Fellowship:

It was difficult to galvanize and unite the whole of the Falwood. Recounting the glories of the First Elven War and the razing of Vel Basten hardly went anywhere these days. The threat that humanity posed had to be demonstrated plainly to each of the different peoples.

So the Fellowship employed a variety of tactics to spread false rumors about their whereabouts, trying to tempt the Anirians into attacking these specific places on the basis on that "intelligence". Places, as it happened, that not a single Fellowship elf inhabited. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it did not.

Alyr'Sylina had recently been reclaimed and rebuilt by a branch of the mostly pacifist commune of Arakari Elves. They thought it to be safe, that Anirian lightning wouldn't strike the same place twice. The Arakari were staunch and vocal against the Fellowship as a whole. A detriment to the cause.

If the Anirians did attack Alyr'Sylina, it would only be a boon for the Fellowship. One way or another. Such was their hope that an attack would one day come.

* * * * *​

"Easy. Baby? Defenseless. Alyr'Sylina? Same."

Leander was a good partner to have, even if his signature gift was useless for this (did the Proctors expect mages? Doubtful!), his weapons were not. The Revolution had outed many Initiates in their class. Outted them in many ways. Some were just rule-followers. Some were not good Dreadlords. Some wanted things that they shouldn't want. Some had lost their sharpness and concerned themselves with trivial matters now.

Soleil was here because she earned it. She was here because she would do what she had always done, no matter how her environment changed around her. Outwardly she adapted to that environment, inwardly she was the same. Just like her new pet chameleon back in her room.

Of Leander, Soleil did not know much through direct observation and listening. Only second-hand information. This was the first time they were on a mission together. Listen to and observe everything.

Soleil trilled her tongue, one of her common tics.

"If run, chase. No survivors."

Leander Urahil

 

[Leander Urahil]

Alyr’Sylina was defenseless, wasn’t it?

Leander’s brows furrowed together, his lips tilting down into a frown. The logical part of him realized that if the Brotherhood was in Alyr’Sylina then it wouldn’t be defenseless. The Brotherhood, despite being elves, weren’t known for being weak. If anything they had been a stubborn thorn in Vel Anir’s side more than the Anirians probably liked to admit.

But neither initiate were warned of there being any sort of difficulties up ahead. As Soleil had so eloquently put it, “If run, chase. No survivors.” Leander was more worried about someone escaping than someone putting up a good fight.

Why didn’t that sit right? Did it even matter if that were the case?

Leander’s frown didn’t disappear but his gait was leisurely as it usually was. He glanced over to Soleil and unspoken between them was a knowingness that they were, in some regard, the same. His hand moved up and over, clasping at the large, heavy hilt of his sword strapped to his back.

“So how do you wanna go in, sand-demon?” Look, he didn’t have to be witty when it came to coming up with nicknames. As if Leander cared about what he called others. “Loud and proud or quiet and sneaky?”

Soleil Verdane

 

[Soleil Verdane]

Soleil casually took off her Pendant. Twirled it around by the necklace.

"First quiet. When shouts start, then loud." She wasn't expecting them to be able to maintain stealth throughout the whole purge of Alyr'Sylina; neither of their gifts were particularly suited for that. One of those Fellowship elves would get a lucky scream out, and then the real fun would begin.

Yes. Fun. Soleil did not understand Initiates who showed any reluctance, forbearance, or, strangest of all, remorse (this last she had no true conception of, having never felt it herself, only knowing that it shared facial symptoms with sorrow). This was what Dreadlords did. Initiates like Kristen, Lumen, and Henk were simply alien to her. Nearly the whole former upper class was alien to her after what they did during their Graduation. Stupid. Their reasoning made no sense. Charon, at least, had not been stupid.

Fissures opened in the flesh beneath her eyes and glided down her cheeks and sealed again. She smiled, glancing over sidelong.

"Me? Kill more than you. Watch."

Leander Urahil

 

[Leander Urahil]

Oh, look at that, the weird girl had a sense of humor. Leander began laughing. Soleil killing more than him? Who did she think she was? Edric? When Soleil didn’t laugh in return, Leander realized that she wasn’t joking. She was serious.

He resisted the urge to sigh. So even the dark-haired girls thought that they could somehow beat him? Why was he always stuck with people who were delusional?

“You think so?” Leander’s hand that had once been touching his sword’s hilt moved away from it. He brought both of his hands over his head, intertwining his fingers together as he rested his palms on the top of his head. “How much you wanna bet that I make you eat those words?” He looked to the side and then down at Soleil. “Although it won’t really matter how many you kill if you don’t come back.”

Above the initiates, a bird flew overhead, the flapping of it’s wings being the only warning that the initiates were fast approaching.

Soleil Verdane

 

[Soleil Verdane]

His last words excited her, but all this excitement was kept locked behind a meticulously maintained set of casual eyes and a carefree expression.

Soleil Verdane loved being threatened (whether or not Leander meant it like this or was merely commenting on how she might die during the course of the purge of Alyr'Sylina didn't matter). She loved to invite attacks upon herself via subtle provocation, or by goading underestimation by appearing weak and vulnerable, or by whatever clever means she could devise. There were rules against killing in society, even some in the old way of the Academy, but there were exceptions to these rules. One of the exceptions was self-defense. Used correctly, it was a perfect way to manipulate the system.

She would have liked to have gotten Houri or Silas with it at the Friendsgiving, but that was just an impulse. More firmly, she wanted to one day get Caeso with it. The only true grudges she experienced involved those who intentionally used water against her. All she had to do was find the right provocation to make him forget his aversion against being a brute.

But those were calculations for another day.

"Us? Bet all your money. If you win, you keep. If I win, I take."

And Soleil made a popping sound with her lips and trilled her tongue.

Leander Urahil

 

[Leander Urahil]

“Getting to keep my own money isn’t very exciting,” Leander said, a rather sly expression dawning on his face. He wasn’t sure how much money Soleil thought he had. Sure he had more than the average initiate, but often his wealth was shown in the equipment he was given. His chainmail, for instance, was replaced often and it was never some hand-me-down. Going to the Spine on a mission? He’d have the biggest, warmest coat.

Now, this was partially because in the last two years he hadn’t stopped growing. But a letter to his father always made sure that he never had to wear clothes that were too tight or tattered. On the other hand, he was one of the few initiates who carried a coin pouch often on him. It came in handy.

His chamagne eyes looked back to his partner for this mission. Soleil looked like she needed new clothes. He somehow doubted she wanted his money to buy another dress. She didn’t strike him as the girly type.

“If you win, I’ll give you any coin I have and you can have whatever you want in my room,” Leander had to sweeten this up, because what he was going to say next was… shocking. “If I win, I keep my shit and you.” He paused, letting the word hang in the air.

“All of you,” he corrected, “will replace the sand in my hourglass. For a week.” A cruel, wolfish grin ruined whatever charm Leander had. “I hope you won’t feel sick once I flip you upside down over and over.”

Soleil Verdane

 

[Soleil Verdane]

Soleil considered it with a smile and eyes like saucers. Then asked, "In room? What have?"

She knew that Leander was a noble, that he therefore had a significant amount of coin available even on his person. The money itself was not interesting, but it was useful, a means to an end. Killing was fun, but it was not a viable option in many situations. Money was a commonplace solution to get what she wanted. Douglass Mueller could have saved himself and his daughter if he had just accepted Soleil's money for the chameleon. Good trade for her though: got chameleon, kept money, and two of many.

So money was the known part of this trade now.

What Soleil didn't know was what was in Leander's room. Maybe much, maybe not much. Maybe he would lie here and now. It didn't matter. She could always take him, since he would be in his room.

Still, she wanted to hear.

Leander Urahil

 

[Leander Urahil]

Well, not a direct no. But not a solid yes. What could really sweeten the deal? What sorts of things did Soleil like? Maybe dyed sand? He had that in his hourglass, it was purple. He looked over at Soleil’s dingy attire, the color of dirt out in the sun for too long without run and fresh horse-shit. The only remarkable thing was that pendant she was swinging around, it matched her eyes.

Almost like the color of cornbread. Or that jewel attached to—

“I have a amber and brown opal gold chatelaine.” Leander began with something big, something he valued. And maybe something unique enough to capture Soleil’s attention. “One of a kind.” Men didn’t carry chatelaines, it clearly belonged to a woman. Or had belonged to one. He wouldn’t give more information on it. And if he somehow lost and Sol decided to take that then he’d be forced to take it back through violent means. But what else to spark Sol’s interest? He had a feeling she wouldn’t want his equipment. It wouldn’t fit her, or…

“I have a water and wind resistant cloak. It works,” it had been a expensive purchase for his last journey to the spine, and it had worked very well. Until Leander had to use his own magic, then it was nothing more than a golden piece of cotton. “I’ll even pay for you to have it tailored.” As it was now, Soleil would drown in the fabric.

“Maybe it can be a new dress for you. What you’re currently wearing now looks like you’re a beggar in the slums instead of a initiate.”

Soleil Verdane

 

[Soleil Verdane]

Chatelaine? Sounded like jewelry. What would she do with that. It wasn't even a weapon like her Pendant. She could sell it. Sell it back to Leander maybe. But all that did was turn the chatelaine into more money.

The water and wind resistant cloak sounded good. Aelita had gifted her a regular cloak, but it did require repairs. Maybe Leander's cloak was special? Enchanted? If not, nothing to be concerned about. If so, consider killing him later and taking it if he wouldn't give it or wouldn't sell it to her.

He commented on her dress, and a wave of fissures excitedly rippled up and down her face and neck like the migrating sand of windswept dunes. To Soleil this was one of the finest compliments Leander could have given. It was an independent confirmation that her outward appearance and demeanor were finely calibrated. Initiates? Deadly. But beggars? Underestimated. It fed into what conceitedness Soleil had that she knew more than those around her, especially those who were interested in attacking her.

Soleil considered the bet a while longer, stepping through the forest, the abnormal lightness of her step barely making any sound on the carpet of stiff fallen leaves and tiny twigs.

"Good wager," Soleil said, agreeing to it. It wasn't like she felt any binding obligation to honor the bet should she lose, but being in an hourglass wasn't bad—not like water. The potential for easy gain through this wager, money plus something else, was too good to pass up. Killing for gain was good, but could be messy. Needed to be calculated.

"Us? Stay together. Keep track of kills."

That smile came back, and it didn't look devilish at all. Innocent and dainty, if anything.

"Me? Geomancy. Trap elves inside town. No escape. Easy for wager. But need time. Prepare. Big spell."

Leander Urahil

 

[Leander Urahil]

Leander was happy that Soleil had accepted the wager. He wasn’t sure if it was because he mentioned the chatelaine— which, it wasn’t necessarily all that valuable considering it was made out of cheap stones but the gold was something— or the cloak he had and would probably never used again. He assumed it had to be the latter, especially once he commented on her ugly rags, Sol’s face began… doing that… thing.

But staying together, and keeping track of kills, would be beneficial. Not just for the little wager they have going on, but also, just in case, if Leander did need to cheat, he wouldn’t need to expand his null-magic to a large degree.

“Every kill, we start counting.” Leander added, thinking only how he could use that to his advantage as well. He noticed her smile, coy and naive. It didn’t match her words, or her confidence. “You don’t need to act cute around me.” He added. Leander grabbed the fur on her coat, tugging it back three times like he had done with the Urahil hunting dogs to tell them to stop when they had been leashed.

He leaned in close to her, lips twisted into a sadistic smile, eyes lambent with victory.

“Like this.” He corrected her. “Only fantasy books talk about the person’s face, whether they were scared or brave. History hardly cares if you’re enjoying yourself, as long as you got the job done.” He let go of her coat and patted her on the head. “And we’ll get the job done. So how can I help you prepare?”

Soleil Verdane

 

[Soleil Verdane]

Soleil offered no resistance to being tugged back. Looked up to him as he spoke and listened. Him? He liked to let everyone know his intentions. She liked to flaunt as well, boldface telling revealing truths mixed in among inconsequential truths and casual lies, but care and balance were called for. Appearances needed to be maintained.

In this case, Soleil did what she did best. She mimicked Leander. She twisted her lips into the same fashion of smile as him and mirrored his gaze and its gleam.

"You? Draw line in ground. Draw line all around village. Big circle."

Soleil detached a hand and it flew up as if to measure Leander's height. It was just for show.

"Tall. How good you sneak?"

Leander Urahil

 

[Leander Urahil]

A big circle around the village? Easy.

Leander did his best to ignore the disgust he felt as Soleil’s hand was detached to fly up to his head. However, it could’ve been worse, couldn’t it?

“There’s a spell,” Leander said, “or two rather. One to silence sounds, the other to blur your presence. Luckily for you, I’ve always made sure to listen to Proctor Bodkey’s lessons on college magic.” The young Urahil grinned, perhaps expecting some sort of praise, but he quickly moved forward with his idea. He repeated the incantations, using his index and middle finger on his right hand to draw a series of shapes in the air in front of him.

Leander wasn’t invisible by any means, but Soleil would notice that if she wasn’t looking directly at him, he seemed to blend into the scenery far more than he should have. On top of it, no matter how he moved, no sound would come from him, not even his sword hitting against his armor.

“Of course, if someone does see me, I’ll finish them before they can even open their mouth.” He promised.

Soleil Verdane

 

[Soleil Verdane]

Soleil's hand glided back down and reattached itself seamlessly to her arm.

"Useful tools," she said of the College Magic cited by Leander. Soleil wasn't the best at College Magic, and just like weapons training (normal weapons, at any rate; things other than her Pendant), this is where her marks fell short.

Leander didn't disappear altogether, but his large presence became mostly concealed when he finished the spell. Much like her chameleon, he seemed to blend into the surrounding environs of the forest. Except...her chameleon didn't always get that right. Sometimes he changed to colors that were very bright—blues and reds and greens—that made him stick out. She didn't know why yet. A thought: it would be funny if that College Magic spell of Leander's, if it were to misfunction, did a similar thing, changing his colors to be very bright and noticeable instead.

"Do," Soleil said of his promise.

And she smiled, this more naturally like the way Leander had done a moment ago. This was the aggression that she liked to hear.

* * * * *​

Alys'Sylina was in sight.

Like many elven towns and villages, it seemed almost one with the forest. The construction of the small collection of houses and buildings flowed with the fluidity of nature, lacking many of the sharp angles and straight lines of typical human settlements. The largest building (a communal hall, perhaps, where the elves might convene) was built into the thick central tree of the village, its overhanging balconies gracefully a part of the mighty tree rather than an imposition upon it.

Soleil did not worry about being seen from that vantage. From its windows, though there was light from within, she had seen no elves peering out, and she had placed herself mostly behind a natural defilade.

Her hands touched the dirt, fingers splayed out wide, and her eyes were closed. She was sensing the earth. The feel of it came in dreamlike images into her mind, flashes of formed color mapping out its smoothness or its roughness, where roots dug in, where foundations had been placed, and where Leander's conspicuous circle traced the perimeter of town.

By this way she could almost see him making his round about Alyr'Sylina.

Leander Urahil

 

[Leander Urahil]

Leander was crouching low, using a dagger to draw the line around the village. It was a pain in the ass, and despite his lax nature, Leander happened to have the unfortunate trait of a perfectionist. He wanted that line nice and neat, and if it meant he had to go around a couple of trees to keep his line from getting interrupted, then he would do so.

That being said, having to make so many detours made the young Urahil nervous. Time wasn’t a commodity on this mission, and the longer he took to make this circle, the longer it would be for Sol to enact her walls. So while he moved swiftly, he made sure to still plan out spots that had decent coverage.

The magic he was employing was decent, but nothing like invisibility or completely making him and his surroundings silent. He wasn’t some old geezer from Elbion with a magic invisibility cloak and wooden wand, he was an initiate! He just needed enough of these stealth spells to sneak around at night if needed.

Regardless, Leander had the notion that when he became Archon, which would only be a matter of time, surely, he wouldn’t ever have to hide. He’d walk through the front door and—

Leander paused as he watched a loose stone roll down from where his boot had dislodged it. He heard the birdsong around him pause, and he looked around. It was fabled that elves long ears allowed to hear better, right? He looked to what was the closet building. He didn’t want to make the circle too far away from the village, and right now, he felt he was quite close to a dwelling. All it would take would be for one person to look out the window. If they stared right at him, would they be able to see him or pass over him? Maybe elves had special eyesight on top of their atrocious knife ears?

Seconds passed and no one came to the window. The birdsong continued. Leander continued on with making his circle and then made his way back to Soleil. He made sure even on his way back, he was more careful than he had been before.

Soleil Verdane

 

[Soleil Verdane]

Leander returned, and it was complete. Soleil's hands down in the dirt trembled and pulsed.

"All are born..." she whispered.

The tiny dagger-made ditch that was the circle enveloping Alyr'Sylina vibrated. Slow at first. But with increasing violence.

"...to be killed."

Soleil's hands plunged in whole into the soil and at the same moment a great circular tidal wave of earth erupted all around the small elven village. And a tidal wave it was, for it was shaped just so: convex on the outside, concave on the inside, and such was its height that its overhanging inside edge could not even be reached by leaping with arms stretched high. An open air trap which Soleil and Leander could drop down into at their convenience, but the elves could not easily escape.

The great mass of earth stopped and solidified, the trap complete. Soleil stood, the dirt easily following away from her hands. She swiveled her head around on her neck luxuriously.

Then exploded into a great swarm of sand, flying viciously through the air and down into the pseudo-dome of earth and the whole of Alyr-Sylina which lay within. Fear and uncertainty gripped the Arakari Elves, but not panic. Not yet.

When Soleil's sand descended upon and swirled around two elves, one male and one female, shredding the very flesh from their muscles and their muscles from their bones, that was when the screams began and the panic spread like crackling, forking lightning through a thunderhead cloud.

Leander Urahil

 

[Leander Urahil]

Leander couldn’t deny that there was something about academy girls being heartless killers that always made him happy he could turn off their magic. Look at Soleil, talking like a philosopher when half the time she spoke like a foreigner.

Leander was surprised she didn’t say something along the lines of “Sol. Killer. You? Die-er. Bye bye.”

It made perfect sense to him that the six words she had spoke, which was the most fluently coherent string of words in one sentence thus far, was about killing. And she didn’t hesitate to jump right into the fray.

She had a head start, unfortunately. Leander wasn’t quick enough on the uptake, and not because he was admiring the handiwork of her walls. Regardless, he jumped down, mumbling a few incantations. Unless these elves displayed any sort of magic, he wouldn’t need to put everyone on equal footing.

He landed lightly on the ground, right in front of three elven females. Everyone was panicking around him, shouting and screaming could be heard.

Leander swung his sword around, and the elves began to run away. His blade didn’t touch them, perhaps giving them a moment of hope. Moments later, a gust of hair sliced through the three females, and the elves down, their top half separated from their lower half.

“Glad I made paid that coin for the Wind Scythe scroll after all,” Leander mumbled to himself. A hefty lump sum but… well, the results spoke for themselves. “THREE!” He shouted to Soleil, where ever that cloud of sand was.

Soleil Verdane

 

[Soleil Verdane]

Yuriel was one of Alyr'Sylina's three hunters. Though the Arakari practiced pacifism, it was a regrettable fact of life that Arethil was populated with dangerous animals and even more dangerous monsters. It was not easy taking on the mantle of one who would do harm and in so doing break the Arakari way, yet the sacrifice was as somber as it was necessary for the good of the community.

But today was different. A stray wild animal, a vicious monster, was not what threatened Alyr'Sylina. One look and he had seen them: humans. Anirians. Never before in Yuriel's life had he taken up the blade against a person of any kind. Yet if he did not, then who would? Who else could possibly stop the blatant intentions of these humans aggressing upon them? May the gods forgive him this trespass against sacred life.

Yuriel had like the others burst into a run once Soleil and Leander jumped down into the village from the enclosing earthen walls, but his run was not in a panic. His was purposeful. He ran back to his home, not so far away, and threw open the door.

Hyasi, his wife of thirty years, was inside. She already knew what was happening, knew what Yuriel intended to do, and offered no argument. She instead already had his elven falx in hand and tossed it to him and Yuriel caught it.

He placed his free hand on her shoulder and said, "You have to go. Take your sister and go."

Now at the mention of her sister Hyasi's face cracked with worry, "Of all the times! She just gave—"

"Then together. The three of you, together. You must make it happen."

"And you? What about you?"

He didn't answer, only threw that arm around her and pulled her into a fierce embrace. "I love you, Hyasi. For all the rest of your many days, know that my heart is given to you, and that we shall meet again, here on Arethil or elsewhere in the Afterglow."

Yuriel couldn't bear to see her face, overrun with tears that told the truth he knew all too well, and so turned as quickly as he could to the front door. Hyasi, so he heard, rushed through the backdoor of their home and was making quickly for the Center Tree, wherein her sister and a good portion of the community were this morning.

Yuriel emerged from his home, seeing then the tall male Anirian kill Alyr'Sylina's three seamstresses all in a single strike, hearing him speak in the Common tongue which Yuriel himself did not know. The cloud of sand buzzing around the panic-stricken villagers, ravaging them as if it were a swarm of flesh-eating locusts, morphed before Yuriel's eyes back into the human girl he had seen previously.

She eyed him. He eyed her. He spun his falx in a competent flourish as he began to charge toward her.

She merely removed the Pendant dangling about her neck, her hands working in a slow and unworried pace.

Leander Urahil

 

[Leander Urahil]

In his peripheral, Leander caught sight of the first elf he had seen with a weapon. He turned his head and saw Soleil advancing towards him. If Leander was cruel, and he wasn’t a cruel person despite what some weaklings might say, he would have stolen Soleil’s kill.

Instead, he moved on, and not because he was benevolent either. The outskirts of this small village would, theoretically, have less elves, and he wasn’t going to waste his time hunting after stragglers and risk losing the bet. In the center he was certain more elves were huddling and hiding about. That was where the three females had been running towards, maybe they sought protection.

Maybe they were heading to the Brotherhood’s secret base?

Looking around this village, Leander couldn’t help but feel that if the Brotherhood had a secret base it couldn’t have been anything more than someone’s living room.

A rock bounced off of his shoulder.

He had been too lax, his guard wasn’t up enough. Leander spun, angling his claymore in a protective manner to see what was attacking him. He was immediately disappointed.

Leander didn’t know how long it took for elves to age, it seemed they all got to choose when they turned into feeble raisins. So this elf that looked more like a grandpa than Leander’s own grandpa had looked to him meant that he had to be really, really old, right?

He threw another rock at Leander, then scrambled inside his home. Leander smirked. What ever could that elf be protecting? But Leander would play his game, and off he went into the home.

Soleil Verdane

 

[Soleil Verdane]

Soleil could have simply burst back into her Sandform, abrated away Yuriel's flesh as she had with the others, and moved on. It would have been best to do that, in actual fact, to make sure she was ahead of Leander in kills. But the truth was that she did not care so much about the bet—not enough to forego this opportunity.

Because she did enjoy killing with her magic. But she also enjoyed killing with her hands, the sensation conducted through whatever implement she was wielding, her Pendant most often (she simply lacked the physical strength to wield any normal weapon effectively for very long). It pleased her, to feel even with her imitation body the tactile pleasure of taking a life, of imposing her will upon another in this most supreme of ways—there was no higher.

Yuriel advanced, the protection of his wife and her sister and the young one foremost in mind. He had no magic. He knew he was going to die. But he had to make a stand, to fight against this Dreadlord as hard and as long as he could, to purchase each precious second for his beloved Hyasi and his extended family to escape.

Gods above, forsake him. Forsake him if it meant that Hyasi could be delivered from this slaughter.

The dance between Soleil and Yuriel was fast and deadly. Yuriel surmised the Pendant she was swinging around to be deadly in a fashion not immediately recognizable from its unassuming appearance. His falx slashed through the girl, splitting apart her face, cutting off her arm, puncturing her gut, yet it was all for nothing. What purchase his blade found in her body gave way to sand, and that sand swirled around in the air once loose and formed again into the greater mass of the girl to become whole again, and so in this way severed arms, hands, legs, even her skull, all of it meant nothing. Magic may well have a cost and an end, and perhaps, Yuriel figured, he could drive the cost of her reformation to be too great to pay, and in this arcane fatigue she would become vulnerable.

Yuriel never got the chance.

For, despite all the hits he landed, all Soleil needed was one. As the fight went on, the approach of the one neared ever closer as Yuriel tired. And then it found him. Her Pendant crashed into his chest, caving in bone, and Yuriel stopped and wheezed and hunched over. The Pendant swung up and cracked his skull, throwing him down onto his back. His vision crackled with disjointed colors, and the pain in his chest seemed miles away from the black cloud of agony before his eyes. The last thing he saw was the girl, that demon in a dress, those eyes swirling with the color of the devouring sands of a hungry and endless desert, as she stood over him and brought down the Pendant to crush his face solidly into the dirt.

Soleil straightened. Calmly placed her Pendant back around her neck. Turned.

And saw, briefly, in one of the balcony windows of the Central Tree an elf, Hyasi, who even at this distance had clearly visible the motions of her distraught lamentations: the clutching at her hair, the heaving gasps of sorrow. The flesh of Soleil's face rippled and vibrated like the surface of a lake in a whipping wind, this as if with excitement.

As she sauntered by the home wherein some clamor could be heard, she called to (or perhaps taunted) Leander, saying, "Many claimed!"

She had been doing good. Not as good as she could be doing. But good.

Here, in wanton massacre, Soleil felt that she was closest to her truest self.

Leander Urahil

 

[Leander Urahil]

Stepping into the small elven home, Leander understood that using his sword would physically be impossible. The ceilings were barely high enough to keep Leander from ducking his head, and the space inside was hardly spacious. Walls were built to divvy up the space, which only had it looking more cramped. He wouldn’t be able to use his claymore, so he sheathed it and instead pulled out a small parrying dagger.

He could still use his magic, if need be. Somehow, and perhaps it was his overconfidence speaking, Leander didn’t feel the need to use his magic. He’d slit that elf’s throat without magic and move on to the next.

Leander was still, standing it what was the dining area and kitchen. He could see that a fire had been lit long ago, could smell the herbs and vegetables in that black pot over the slow-licking flames. He stepped forward. If he was a old elf, where would he hide?

Another step forward.

The elf came out from the corner that separated the dining room and kitchen, a big knife in both of his hands. He went to stab at Leander, and Leander stepped back. Not enough to avoid the hit, but enough so that his chainmail and padding kept him from getting stabbed.

“Asshole,” Leander cursed, looking over his shoulder as if to make sure that Soleil hadn’t seen. He saw no sand floating about so hopefully that meant he was in the clear. He lunged for the elf, large hands reaching for his face and neck. The man went to stab his arm, and Leander caught his wrist. It was only natural to stab what was appearing before one’s eyes.

With his unmatched strength, he brought the elf to the ground, beginning to position the knife over the old elf’s throat. Leander heard a whisper, and he looked up.

Hiding away in the cabinet was a young elf boy, and what Leander could only presume to be his sister. Younger than him, more frail than him, and unable to keep her voice in check. Leander didn’t hesitate. He stopped playing the cat and mouse game he had going on with the old elf, with a burst of strength, the knife punctured through the elf’s throat and was embedded into the dirt floors beneath them.

The girl began crying and screaming.

Odessa would never act like that, Leander thought to himself, getting up and showing the two elf children his parrying dagger. It was small, smaller than what most would imagine Leander to carry, but he preferred it that way. Claymores were good for collecting space and small daggers were good for stabbing up close and unnoticed.

Leander grabbed for the girl, but the brother moved into his way. That was fine. Leander wanted to make a point and he would make one. He showed the younger elf the boy in front of her, shook him about from his hold within his hair. Unceremoniously, he sliced off the long ears of the boy.

He cried in pain, Leander saw tears in his forest green eyes. He let the crying and wailing continue for a moment longer but then he used his dagger to stop it. No more crying, no more wailing, no more sobbing, no more breathing. The other elf was next, unmoving and lifeless like the old elf.

Leander heard Soleil’s shout.

“Yeah? Well we’ll see how long that lasts!” He shouted back to his fellow initiate, checking the rest of the home to make sure no one else was hiding. Leander went out the back door, looking for his next victim.

Soleil Verdane

 

[Soleil Verdane]

Inside the Central Tree of Alyr'Sylina a true horror upon Arethil would take place.

Soleil entered the Central Tree at its ground level entrance. Inside that great and monolithic tree was fashioned something like a hall or perhaps a temple; Soleil didn't know for sure, and didn't care to know. What she suspected was true. Inside this main chamber within the Central Tree a large number of the elves had taken refuge, and one unified scream of fright was raised among them when she entered. The door opposite to her she sealed shut with a little bit of geomancy. With nowhere to run, it was all the Arakari elves could do to cower and await their doom. One by one Soleil worked through them, switching her method of killing at her pleasure, and eventually the screaming, the crying, the whimpering, all of it stopped, and the main chamber of the Central Tree was silent.

But she knew there was more. Another exit, leading outside and up the spiraling walkway to the balcony where she had seen Hyasi. So up she went, traversing that walkway wrapping around the Central Tree's immense trunk (down below Leander causing his own havoc), and into the Tree's upper chamber.

The sight before her was this: a bedroom, of a kind, crossed so it seemed with a place of worship or supplication (and indeed, this was a place sacred to the Arakari, for here new life tasted its first breath of Arethilian air, and this was a holy moment to their faith). Two handmaidens, dressed in ceremonial white garb, stood petrified by the bed in the very center of the room, and Hyasi stood behind them, holding the hand of a fourth elf who lay in the bed, sweating and clearly exhausted. The sheets of the bed were already red with some blood.

Soleil walked inside, with her Pendant first killing the handmaiden on the left and then the handmaiden on the right, this with all the perfunctory effort of something done in afterthought. Her eyes were upon Hyasi the whole time.

Hyasi let go of the bedridden elf's hand. Produced a small knife from her clothes and pointed it at Soleil. She was scared, despairing of hope, anger her sole refuge, and yet she stood her ground. In imperfect Common she began to say, "Don't you—"

Soleil swung her Pendant and broke Hyasi's jaw off of her skull. Hyasi dropped the knife and with trembling hands clutched delicately at her face. She glanced in abject apology to the bedridden elf...and then fell flat onto her back. She was dead.

Soleil met the gaze of the bedridden elf. Hyasi's sister, Eldawyn. With overwhelmed sorrow did Eldawyn's lips quiver. "Please...I beg you..."

It was then, hidden beneath the sheets, came the plaintive cries of Eldawyn's newborn baby boy.

What sight would await Leander, if he chose to ascend the Central Tree to its upper chamber, would be a horrid one.

Leander Urahil

 

[Leander Urahil]

He had ever intention of winning the bet, but it seemed that while Soleil had made the better choice in heading to the Central Tree, Leander had thought it would make more sense to get any of those that were about and around. Firstly, because he figured only fools would run to the center of the village where they would surely be crowded together. He wouldn’t have done that if roles were reversed, choosing instead to lurk on the outside where he would have a chance to run if need be. Secondly, because of the first reason, Leander thought that any stragglers were most likely children and the elderly, the lame and the blind.

Easy kills, sure, but if one wanted to rack up those numbers then he had to make sure to get all the ones who were too scared to run or slow runners to begin with. Could finish them off quicker and then go for the others.

Regardless of his plan, Leander found himself in a certain situation: Sol’s wall was a circular wall. He had never been good at math (hence why he had loathed any runic classes or calculation spells) and failed to realize that with that circular wall, there actually was only way forward: to the center.

So as Leander quickly made his way, still keeping track of those he had slain, the metallic tang of blood caught him before the sight in the main chamber. Strange as Leander had already grown accustomed to the smell of blood from his own conquests, but this was overbearing. He realized why once he stepped inside.

Complete carnage: pink and purple innards with yellow-white globs of fat still clinging to them, puddles of dark red blood, pieces of splintered bone or shattered teeth, a small severed hand with no fingers and a lone eyeball with a fleshy, squishy crimson root still attached to it. There was more he could have looked upon but instead of being aghast, Leander felt a itch of irritation along his scalp.

That damn waif of a girl, there was a chance she was beating him!

He heard a cry. A cat? Some sound that Sol was making? It wasn’t one he had ever remembered her making before but those rebel elves were still about. Perhaps she was in trouble? And if he killed the elves that were making her squeal like a baby then he could try to claim some extra points for their bet.

As if Leander knew exactly where Sol was, he went upstairs. After he had taken the first step, he didn’t hear any other sounds. The Rebels could’ve gagged her. So slowly and silently, he went up and up and up, until the light of a room above him caught his attention. He crouched low, using the wall to help shield him.

He saw Sol and discarded elves around her.

“Soleil?” The blonde stood up and stood in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

Soleil Verdane

 

[Soleil Verdane]

Her expression as she did all of this was unchanged from her norm. No particular excitement, and certainly no emotions of any negative character. Soleil might as well have been emptying a wastebin in her room for all her countenance suggested.

Soleil? What are you doing?

"Killing a baby," she said in a nonchalant manner, repeating verbatim some of Leander's own words from earlier.

Easy. Defenseless. Just like she herself had said in response. But she wanted to do it with her bare hands. She had never killed anything before with just her bare hands. It was a curious novelty.

Leander Urahil