Past Revealed, and Future Life

Elean felt himself being jostled around and something poking him in the stomach. He opened his eyes to find the ground six feet beneath him, moving. Looking around, he notices he is slung over the shoulder of a daemon, and a few others of its kind are walking alongside it. For a moment he couldn�t remember where he was or what had happened. He lost consciousness before he remembered.

When he finally opened his eyes again, he was hanging with his toes barely touching the ground and held up by iron shackles that were on his wrists. The room he was in was a cold, stone room, ideal for any normal prison. There was one thing different about it though. His jailers were not edans. And there was not necessarily a door with a lock on it. In fact, there was no door, it was just an opening. He puzzled this out in a stupefied manner before he remembered what had happened only hours before. The visions came back to him in a rush, and he felt tears trickle down his cheek to drip off and splatter on the stone floor. He squeezes his eyes shut and told himself that he would not cry�.not until it is all over, he would not cry.

Looking about at his surroundings, he notices Venin is on the wall a few yards away with the rest of his equipment. He also only wore his pants, which were torn off at mid-thigh. Black and blue bruises covered him, and maybe a few broken ribs as well, he was not sure. That is when he felt the ground shake. A few shakes later, a hideous daemon walked into view, and came inside the 3-walled room a few steps. That�s why there was no door, so that this��thing� could come in and out. He smelled horrid, as if he hadn�t cleansed himself in all his life. There were scars all over the beast, and only only a few strands of cartilage held half of one ear up.

�Well, well. So I see you decided to wake up after all, eh? Excellent� I finally have him! I finally have him!� The daemon roared in triumph with its fists in the air, and an evil, cackling laugh. Elean wanted to cover his ears from the booming, echoing laugh, but couldn�t. �Do you have any idea why I am so happy?� he asked with a hint of glee and smirk. Elean shook his head. At this the daemon boomed his laugh anew. �Why, you are the last of the royal bloodline! The last of even a whole clan�s bloodline!� Confusion took place of his fear, and wondered if it could possibly be telling the truth. It would explain some of the recent happenings, though. The daemon continued with its story. �Oh�it was about maybe 3,000 years ago�there was a clan of sylvan elves that I really did not like, they bothered me somewhat and killed my minions. So, I waged war on them. Quite a magnificent war if you ask me. They fought bravely and nearly won�until I showed up on the battlefields.� A wicked grin comes to its face as he recollects the memories. �They were defeated after only a few days of fighting, after I showed up. But�little did I know that some escaped�some of the royal blood. Your. Ancestors.� The daemon jabs him in the chest with a large finger at every word. Elean could tell that what it was speaking of was pure truth. He then began to wonder which of his parents were of that bloodline. �I hunted down the stragglers over the millennia, and only a few hundred years ago did I come across your small village. It held the last of the bloodline. It would have been over long ago if that accursed barrier wasn�t there.� It snarled at that. �But no matter, it fell just the same, if it took a lot of time to dismantle the barrier. I took it down many times�3 total if I�m not mistaken.� Three? How could it do it three times? He began to recount the events that had taken place�first was when Nedlidee was killed�the second�he didn�t know the second, as the third had to take place after that, which had just happened.

�Was the first time when you killed Nedlidee?�

�Me? No, I didn�t kill her. My minions did, trying to kill you.�

�And what did you do the second time?�

Another grin came to its face that threatened to split his face in two. �To kill some of the bloodline again. Your mother. I was the one that poisoned her.� Elean�s face turned expressionless as he cried inside. The hate bubbled up and threatened to control him. He no longer cared. He had found the murderer of his family and friends. The muscles, the sylvan muscles that had increased his strength that one night of that dream, flexed beyond normal comparison. His face, facing the floor, came up to stare at the daemon�s eyes, and they were shining red. All things in his vision took on a tint of red as he entered a blood rage, just like the one he had when he saw Nedlidee slaughtered before his eyes. He let out a scream that made the daemon take a shaking step back, as his chest muscles flexed and the chains that held him broke. He stood on his feet, free of his confinement.

�Well, well�so this is the wrath I have hungered for. I have been waiting long for this moment to come.� It turned around and walked off, shaking the floor as it went into the next large room. It was a large, round room that easily accommodated the daemon. Walking out, the only thing Elean picked up was Venin.

Venin was extremely light, and was immediately beset upon by daemon minions of his main foe. They went down easily. A single slash and they were down, writhing in agony. The minions did not stop, and Elean would not have lasted this long if not for the blood rage he was in to reach the murderer. So instead of trying to kill all the minions, he just hacked a beeline toward it. The minions backed off to watch their master take on this single elf. The daemon held up its hand and a sword that dripped in magic appeared in it. Elean was standing in a pose he had been taught by his father when using large weapons. With a yell, he charged straight for the daemon, and the battle began. It blocked all his thrusts and strikes with its magic sword, all the while with a grin on his face. Then, unexpectedly, the daemon backhanded him that sent him sprawling across the room on the floor to collide into a wall against his back. He looked across the room at the daemon, slightly dizzy.

�Is that all you have? You are more puny than I had thought, my �Lord�!� It mocked.

Elean�s vision blurred, and a ghostly shape rippled into view in front of his face. It was a figure he could not recognize, so he thought it was one of his ancestors way before his time.

�Please, My Lord, get up! He will surely kill you if you don�t!�

That shape rippled out to be replaced by his father. �Use what I have taught you! I know that you can do better than this!�

Then his mother. �My son, be strong. I have watched over you since I have left you, and I am proud.� Her ghostly hand reached out to touch the necklace that had once been hers, now his for safekeeping. �Thank you for keeping this. It has been passed down through the royal bloodline generations. Guard it well.�

The next made his heart leap into his throat. His mela, Nedlidee, came next. Her hand came up to brush his cheek. �Mela, please do not let my death be in vain. Amin mela lle. And I always will. Defeat him. For me.� The ghostly apparition brushed a kiss past his cheek and then floated back, with familiar faces in front, and the entire clan of his ancestors behind them.

�I�can�t�it is too strong!� The daemon raises an eyebrow as he sees Elean talking to himself.

�You are right, it is too strong�for you in your current state that is,� a sylvan elf at the head of the group says, �we were strong back then. You do not have enough of the blood in you to have that much strength. So, we will give you our strength so that you may defeat him, once and for all.� The apparition looks back on the large group of sylvan elves, and they nod to each other before flying towards and into Elean�s body. He shakes as each spirit passes into him, giving him its strength. His mother was one of those that lent him their strength, as she was one of the descendants of the clan. After all had given him their strength, the spirits left behind, including Nedlidee, began to ripple and dissipate away. His head cleared, and something more fearsome took place of his blood rage: controlled anger. With a thought, he releases the gathered energy from the spirits into his muscles and limbs. The muscles bulge to a size greater than they had been, and his hair no longer had any high elven significance, as the coppery-red color of the sylvan elf flairs up and envelopes all his hair, and the royal bloodline tattoo appears on his forehead, a single bar of golden color sweeps arcs from the base of each ear and onto the forehead above the eyes to come together at a singular point, which is a tattoo of a large ruby gem. He picks himself up, smiling with Venin in his hands.

�Well now�this is something most interesting! I never expected this out of a little whelp like you!�

�For my family,� Elean slowly spins the halberd in a circle in front of himself, �For my friends, for Nedlidee!! I. Will. Kill. You!� Elean rushes forward, with Venin being held by the bidding of spirits� voices in his head, and slashes down at the daemon. It brings its sword up, to block it, and blocks more of the thrusts and strikes. The controlled onslaught against the daemon�s sword keeps pushing it back as it blocks each strike, but then, with a powerful down-stroke, the daemon�s blade shatters into hundreds of pieces that clatter to the ground. More strikes, and there was bubbling blood frothing from cuts in the daemon�s belly. Holding Venin for a final strike, the daemon utters a few words only audible to Elean.

�It�cannot be!�

And with that, Venin was thrust straight into the daemon�s cold, black heart. It fell to the ground in a heap; its minions around the room also fell, as their life was disconnected from their master�s. Elean stood there, leaning on Venin, laboring to get his breath back. The spirits came out of him, their strength no longer needed.

�A fine job. Never before have I witnessed a battle like it in all my years. You are worthy of the tokens that have already been bestowed upon you, though your meager blood will not be able to hold the added strength that we gave you for much longer. It was only temporary, but the tattoo, and what was given to you after that one dream you may keep.�

�Diola�lle, my dear ancestors. May you find peace now. I gladly accept this gift to keep your memory in mind. Farewell, father and mother. Farewell, melamin.� With no words left to be spoken, the spirits disappeared, and Elean walked out of the daemon�s lair and went back to his ruined village.

The wreckage was still there, and with a solemn, expressionless face, he takes up a shovel and begins to dig. For many days he dug and dug. Then one more day when he carved headstones and placed the bodies of his fallen friends into the graves. He covered them up, placing the right headstone on the right grave, before he wept. It was all ended now. His home is gone, lost to the blackness of evil. The next morning, he gathers his things, and then he begins to walk back to his new home, the home that he vows that he will protect. Protect with every fiber in his body. The home of his new friends. The village of Tel�Ruid.

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> Elean felt himself being jostled around and something poking him in the stomach. He opened his eyes to find the ground six feet beneath him, moving. Looking around, he notices he is slung over the shoulder of a daemon, and a few others of its kind are walking alongside it. For a moment he couldn�t remember where he was or what had happened. He lost consciousness before he remembered. > When he finally opened his eyes again, he was hanging with his toes barely touching the ground and held up by iron shackles that were on his wrists. The room he was in was a cold, stone room, ideal for any normal prison. There was one thing different about it though. His jailers were not edans. And there was not necessarily a door with a lock on it. In fact, there was no door, it was just an opening. He puzzled this out in a stupefied manner before he remembered what had happened only hours before. The visions came back to him in a rush, and he felt tears trickle down his cheek to drip off and splatter on the stone floor. He squeezes his eyes shut and told himself that he would not cry�.not until it is all over, he would not cry. > Looking about at his surroundings, he notices Venin is on the wall a few yards away with the rest of his equipment. He also only wore his pants, which were torn off at mid-thigh. Black and blue bruises covered him, and maybe a few broken ribs as well, he was not sure. That is when he felt the ground shake. A few shakes later, a hideous daemon walked into view, and came inside the 3-walled room a few steps. That�s why there was no door, so that this��thing� could come in and out. He smelled horrid, as if he hadn�t cleansed himself in all his life. There were scars all over the beast, and only only a few strands of cartilage held half of one ear up. > �Well, well. So I see you decided to wake up after all, eh? Excellent� I finally have him! I finally have him!� The daemon roared in triumph with its fists in the air, and an evil, cackling laugh. Elean wanted to cover his ears from the booming, echoing laugh, but couldn�t. �Do you have any idea why I am so happy?� he asked with a hint of glee and smirk. Elean shook his head. At this the daemon boomed his laugh anew. �Why, you are the last of the royal bloodline! The last of even a whole clan�s bloodline!� Confusion took place of his fear, and wondered if it could possibly be telling the truth. It would explain some of the recent happenings, though. The daemon continued with its story. �Oh�it was about maybe 3,000 years ago�there was a clan of sylvan elves that I really did not like, they bothered me somewhat and killed my minions. So, I waged war on them. Quite a magnificent war if you ask me. They fought bravely and nearly won�until I showed up on the battlefields.� A wicked grin comes to its face as he recollects the memories. �They were defeated after only a few days of fighting, after I showed up. But�little did I know that some escaped�some of the royal blood. Your. Ancestors.� The daemon jabs him in the chest with a large finger at every word. Elean could tell that what it was speaking of was pure truth. He then began to wonder which of his parents were of that bloodline. �I hunted down the stragglers over the millennia, and only a few hundred years ago did I come across your small village. It held the last of the bloodline. It would have been over long ago if that accursed barrier wasn�t there.� It snarled at that. �But no matter, it fell just the same, if it took a lot of time to dismantle the barrier. I took it down many times�3 total if I�m not mistaken.� Three? How could it do it three times? He began to recount the events that had taken place�first was when Nedlidee was killed�the second�he didn�t know the second, as the third had to take place after that, which had just happened. > �Was the first time when you killed Nedlidee?� > �Me? No, I didn�t kill her. My minions did, trying to kill you.� > �And what did you do the second time?� > Another grin came to its face that threatened to split his face in two. �To kill some of the bloodline again. Your mother. I was the one that poisoned her.� Elean�s face turned expressionless as he cried inside. The hate bubbled up and threatened to control him. He no longer cared. He had found the murderer of his family and friends. The muscles, the sylvan muscles that had increased his strength that one night of that dream, flexed beyond normal comparison. His face, facing the floor, came up to stare at the daemon�s eyes, and they were shining red. All things in his vision took on a tint of red as he entered a blood rage, just like the one he had when he saw Nedlidee slaughtered before his eyes. He let out a scream that made the daemon take a shaking step back, as his chest muscles flexed and the chains that held him broke. He stood on his feet, free of his confinement. > �Well, well�so this is the wrath I have hungered for. I have been waiting long for this moment to come.� It turned around and walked off, shaking the floor as it went into the next large room. It was a large, round room that easily accommodated the daemon. Walking out, the only thing Elean picked up was Venin. > Venin was extremely light, and was immediately beset upon by daemon minions of his main foe. They went down easily. A single slash and they were down, writhing in agony. The minions did not stop, and Elean would not have lasted this long if not for the blood rage he was in to reach the murderer. So instead of trying to kill all the minions, he just hacked a beeline toward it. The minions backed off to watch their master take on this single elf. The daemon held up its hand and a sword that dripped in magic appeared in it. Elean was standing in a pose he had been taught by his father when using large weapons. With a yell, he charged straight for the daemon, and the battle began. It blocked all his thrusts and strikes with its magic sword, all the while with a grin on his face. Then, unexpectedly, the daemon backhanded him that sent him sprawling across the room on the floor to collide into a wall against his back. He looked across the room at the daemon, slightly dizzy. > �Is that all you have? You are more puny than I had thought, my �Lord�!� It mocked. > Elean�s vision blurred, and a ghostly shape rippled into view in front of his face. It was a figure he could not recognize, so he thought it was one of his ancestors way before his time. > �Please, My Lord, get up! He will surely kill you if you don�t!� > That shape rippled out to be replaced by his father. �Use what I have taught you! I know that you can do better than this!� > Then his mother. �My son, be strong. I have watched over you since I have left you, and I am proud.� Her ghostly hand reached out to touch the necklace that had once been hers, now his for safekeeping. �Thank you for keeping this. It has been passed down through the royal bloodline generations. Guard it well.� > The next made his heart leap into his throat. His mela, Nedlidee, came next. Her hand came up to brush his cheek. �Mela, please do not let my death be in vain. Amin mela lle. And I always will. Defeat him. For me.� The ghostly apparition brushed a kiss past his cheek and then floated back, with familiar faces in front, and the entire clan of his ancestors behind them. > �I�can�t�it is too strong!� The daemon raises an eyebrow as he sees Elean talking to himself. > �You are right, it is too strong�for you in your current state that is,� a sylvan elf at the head of the group says, �we were strong back then. You do not have enough of the blood in you to have that much strength. So, we will give you our strength so that you may defeat him, once and for all.� The apparition looks back on the large group of sylvan elves, and they nod to each other before flying towards and into Elean�s body. He shakes as each spirit passes into him, giving him its strength. His mother was one of those that lent him their strength, as she was one of the descendants of the clan. After all had given him their strength, the spirits left behind, including Nedlidee, began to ripple and dissipate away. His head cleared, and something more fearsome took place of his blood rage: controlled anger. With a thought, he releases the gathered energy from the spirits into his muscles and limbs. The muscles bulge to a size greater than they had been, and his hair no longer had any high elven significance, as the coppery-red color of the sylvan elf flairs up and envelopes all his hair, and the royal bloodline tattoo appears on his forehead, a single bar of golden color sweeps arcs from the base of each ear and onto the forehead above the eyes to come together at a singular point, which is a tattoo of a large ruby gem. He picks himself up, smiling with Venin in his hands. > �Well now�this is something most interesting! I never expected this out of a little whelp like you!� > �For my family,� Elean slowly spins the halberd in a circle in front of himself, �For my friends, for Nedlidee!! I. Will. Kill. You!� Elean rushes forward, with Venin being held by the bidding of spirits� voices in his head, and slashes down at the daemon. It brings its sword up, to block it, and blocks more of the thrusts and strikes. The controlled onslaught against the daemon�s sword keeps pushing it back as it blocks each strike, but then, with a powerful down-stroke, the daemon�s blade shatters into hundreds of pieces that clatter to the ground. More strikes, and there was bubbling blood frothing from cuts in the daemon�s belly. Holding Venin for a final strike, the daemon utters a few words only audible to Elean. > �It�cannot be!� > And with that, Venin was thrust straight into the daemon�s cold, black heart. It fell to the ground in a heap; its minions around the room also fell, as their life was disconnected from their master�s. Elean stood there, leaning on Venin, laboring to get his breath back. The spirits came out of him, their strength no longer needed. > �A fine job. Never before have I witnessed a battle like it in all my years. You are worthy of the tokens that have already been bestowed upon you, though your meager blood will not be able to hold the added strength that we gave you for much longer. It was only temporary, but the tattoo, and what was given to you after that one dream you may keep.� > �Diola�lle, my dear ancestors. May you find peace now. I gladly accept this gift to keep your memory in mind. Farewell, father and mother. Farewell, melamin.� With no words left to be spoken, the spirits disappeared, and Elean walked out of the daemon�s lair and went back to his ruined village. > The wreckage was still there, and with a solemn, expressionless face, he takes up a shovel and begins to dig. For many days he dug and dug. Then one more day when he carved headstones and placed the bodies of his fallen friends into the graves. He covered them up, placing the right headstone on the right grave, before he wept. It was all ended now. His home is gone, lost to the blackness of evil. The next morning, he gathers his things, and then he begins to walk back to his new home, the home that he vows that he will protect. Protect with every fiber in his body. The home of his new friends. The village of Tel�Ruid.
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