- Messages
- 50
"They didn't take us.
There weren't any Proctors. Boogeymen or recruiters. There wasn't any one coming for us.
It wasn't a punishment. It wasn't something to be feared.
It was a gift. We were a gift. Any son, any daughter born into magic was a wondrous thing. A blessing. Not because we were a prize to be sold for a satchel of riches.
But because were the one hope Vel Anir had.
The one thing that saved our city.
We weren't ripped from the arms of our mothers. We weren't torn from our families. We were given, freely offered, and had we known ourselves...every single one of us would have gone anyway."
Ealin - Formerly An-TyrThere weren't any Proctors. Boogeymen or recruiters. There wasn't any one coming for us.
It wasn't a punishment. It wasn't something to be feared.
It was a gift. We were a gift. Any son, any daughter born into magic was a wondrous thing. A blessing. Not because we were a prize to be sold for a satchel of riches.
But because were the one hope Vel Anir had.
The one thing that saved our city.
We weren't ripped from the arms of our mothers. We weren't torn from our families. We were given, freely offered, and had we known ourselves...every single one of us would have gone anyway."
"I...I don't und-"
A wracking cough cut through the din of roaring fire. The acrid smell of burning wood hung within the air, the heat of the flames surrounding the two figures standing within an embrace. Blood spilled from the taller figures mouth, his features once serene and beautiful now twisted in a mash of horror and confusion. A blade, shining dark within the fire lit room pierced through his chest.
The other man held his shoulder, red hair cloaking their faces as blood dripped down the larger man's chest.
"We should have seen you."
Words tumbled from dying lips, the concern within them almost desperate. The Elf simply did not understand, could not grasp what had happened to the great watch tower of Ealin. The fortress grown from the Oaks of the Orchard of Anirius. The mark of conquest, and the eye of the elves upon the upstart humans that had once sought their conquest.
What had once been a keep of great beauty now lay as a shattered ruin. Oak sung to steel stood sundered and broken. Palisades and walls ripped apart, towers torn down, and barracks obliterated. Hundreds lay done, some marred and broken, others left with no trace of ever having lived at all. The Fortress had fallen, not after a siege, not after a battle.
One night had passed, and Ealin had fallen.
"We should have seen you."
The Elf said again, his body wracking as the shorter figure gently pushed him back. A loud thunk rang out within the inferno as the Elven Commander tumbled onto the floor. "Yes."
Leoric said, staring at the dead creature before him, his golden eyes flickering within the light as they turned out towards the open balcony just ahead. There, just barely, he could make out the cresting ridge-line. The sun light shone upon it, casting it's rays on those who stood there. Thousands upon thousands of men and women. Flags fluttering high above them upon great poles, dust rising into the air as they marched.
"You should have." The first of the Dreadlords said as he began to walk away, intent on rejoining the others.