Taken by the Dark Elf King Gönderileri
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Their love had been recorded in countless tales. Two warriors, mated under a blood moon. Destined to bring Myrkrovin into a new age. Only for the queen to watch the life seep from her beloved mates eyes on that battlefield. The pain of her loss, it was claimed that she died of a broken heart right next to him.
Our differences rang true on the battlefield. I watched my kind kill, maim, and destroy anything in our path with claws and teeth and vigor. Our latest generation is the most beastly yet. And on the battlefield one can be forgiven if they yield to that side completely for survival.
I myself have been known to do such. “The Beast King,” they whisper in the east.
A word to males, the last thing a female wants to be reminded of when they are fucking is their noble and long-lasting lineage.
My brother was there the day the old king fell. He watched as the new king rose from the blood and decimated the Orc hordes in one evening of carnage. The dark elves had always been animals, but this new king was nothing short of a demon.
My mother tells me I have storm clouds in my eyes. A reflection of the curiosity brewing in my mind, wanting to find any means of escape.
Mothers and nannies keeping their children close to their side. Still holding on to those old tales that dark elves snatch children to feed to the horned beasts they keep under Blackfire Castle.
There is no truth to those tales, my nanny once told me; but looking at this figure standing in front of us, it is hard to not believe it.
There is no hiding what he is. The height. The snow-white hair and skin the color of soot. Eyes that glow red with a burning fire. He is a dark elf. Our monstrous brethren from the north.
As light elves, we may view ourselves as the more civilized of the two, but we are not spotless. Our soft faces just hide what we really are.