𝔖𝔥𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔚𝔦𝔩𝔩- ℭ𝔥𝔮𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔒𝔫𝔢

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CHAPTER ONE- The downfall off the elves

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Trigger Warning-(death, hanging, murder, abuse)

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RENRORIEN

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My death will be irrelevant. Though history will my name as the bastard elf, that brought the empire to its knees.

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The dull light broke through the gold worn curtains that held the memories and stories of past ancestors like words coming directly from their mouths. Just guiding your fingertips through the silk, you could feel the sweat and patience that went into creating such a masterpiece. Yet, even with that blood connection to her royal elvish ancestors, the young half-breed felt inadequate to be socialised with her history. 'Just a blood mongrel that has tinted the pure bloodline with impurities' the violent words rattled around her head like a bad dream. These words that everyone in the kingdom spoke to each other about but never aloud, as the repercussions would be life-taking.

The soft array of knocking is what finally awoke the half-breed from her slumber as the broken sunlight seemingly had no effect on her. She was grateful that her handmaid had split her from the forming nightmare arising. She was already haunted by the pressures of the kingdom in her waking life, and she didn't need it in her dreams as well. "Mistress", The small voice of the handmaid called from behind the door before slightly opening it and sticking her head in. Her brown locks were hidden away in a bonnet, and her green eyes were piercings into her sapphire ones. The clothes were spotless of any muck that could have been placed from the kitchen work before her duties to Renrorien. Shalana was a lower race elf which was heavily determined by her appearance; as her copper skin tone gave away, she was a wood elf. Not only was attire or education a reveal of status in the kingdom but also individual elves' appearance. Every race of elves in the kingdom have their own distinct appearance, culture, and view. Though the highest status would be the royal family of sun elves.

There was only the greeting of groans from Renrorien; she wanted no part in the services that she believed would take place. She didn't want to bear witness to such horrific acts, which are viewed as entertainment. As the royal blood flows through her veins, the half-breed would have a front-row seat to the hanging of other hybrid elves. The obscene ruling by the courts views mixed-race elves as an act going against ancient traditions. Therefore, the proper punishment is a death sentence by hanging. Just the mere thoughts of watching the rope being hung and tightened around an afraid mixed-elf brought sickness to Renrorien's stomach. There was no difference between the royal descendant's mongrel status and the one that individual elves had. The only difference being seen is that she sat perched in a golden seat littered with jewels, overseeing a wave of hundreds of citizens screaming for entertainment. Dressed in silk brought from the isle of the pixies and rather than a rope around her neck, a golden chained with the rare, dragon soul stone rested instead. The mongrel accused had tears breaching at the sides of their eyes as they looked pleadingly at the royal family, and they knew their begging fell on deaf ears. Ultimately they accepted their fate, and that trap door opened, sending them into death's arms for merely their existences.

"Mistress?" The handmaid lightly shook the lost in thought Renrorien, gathering her attention. The silver-haired royal snapped her head towards her servant, her sapphire eyes scanning over Shalana. "It's nine, and you've been called", the wood elf states as she pulls down the sheets of her mistress' bed to reveal more of the beauty hiding underneath it. The half-breed brushed the silver locks out of her face as she tried to muster up the confidence to get out of the warmth of the bed. "Allow me to assist you, Mistress" Shalana grabbed hold of Renrorien's arm, aiding her out of the silk bed. Renrorien wanted to attend to her own needs as she was pushing the years of coming-of-age. Yet, her father still felt the pressures of keeping a watchful eye over her existence.

"Shalana please!" Renrorien exclaimed, shrugging off the assistance of the handmaid. "I can get out of bed on my own" the handmaid just nodded her head and backed off slightly. The half-breed seemingly never got a moment of privacy or peace; there was constantly someone waiting by her side. As if she was merely a child that needed constant supervision, or they would burn down the castle. It was a suffocating existence within the castle walls that Renrorien had been locked in since birth. "Is it my father that has called for me?" The silver-haired beauty asked, glancing absentmindedly into the mirror and whilst brushing her locks. Her fingers curled tightly around the brush at the thought of witnessing her father. King Elrohir lacks effort in being within Renorien's life, his royal duties being top priority. However, her life in the castle wasn't without the king's presence. Every movement was carefully watched and reported by guards at Elrohir's request. "No, Master Darcassan, as asked for you."

Quickly, the half-breed's demeanour changed. No longer did resentment and callous thoughts cloud her mind; there was joy and excitement now. She rushed to comb her hair into a neat design of perfected elvish braids. With the assistance of Shalama, the abundance of silver locks were perfectly halved, and a fishtail braid rests elegantly on the untied part. Not a single strand of silver laid out of place. "That one" Renrorien flicks her wrist over at the oak wardrobe with an endless amount of dresses that are handcrafted especially for her. Whilst the handmaid attended her mistress' request, the half-breed removed her sleeping chemise. The thin cloth simply dropped to her ankles before she stepped out of it.

Being exposed to the world on the day of her birth, her white complexion held significant differences between the other elvish races. Snow white complexions are only seen in winged or snow elves. So the poor girl stood out in a crowd of a thousand just by her appearance, and not forgetting her name that has been imprinted in everyone's minds. History would be yet to forget the name Renrorien. It would be preserved in historical writings and imaginary, not only in the elvish lands but the neighbouring ones as well, for many centuries to come. Nevertheless, until those written moments, Renrorien is still a sixteen-year-old mongrel that's trying to fight to be accepted into elvish society.

Gold touched wings spread elegantly from Renrorien's back after being freed from the clothed prison. The imprint of emerald green on the tip was visible by the sun rays that broke through the curtains, hit it. There was a sparkling gold that erupted at the mere sight of the delicate parts. They stood prideful in the air and moved free at their own pace; she took this moment to enjoy the freedom. This was the only moment she was allowed to enjoy her winged bloodline when she was semi-alone. The sheer perfection and unlikeness to other elves made the appearance of the wings seem like a fraud. Like the half-breed had easily slipped the wings on to give the allusion of the unique gift. Nevertheless, the reality for such a gift was a grim one, and the extent of being born with this beauty came at a costly price.

Glancing into the reflection, she softly encouragingly smiled to herself. The silk wings were viewed as a stain mark of rebellion for tradition, thus should be hidden and hated. Though the mistakes weren't Renrorien's, it had been her parents' choice, and she was the result. So she saw her golden wings as a beauty mark as if it was merely another extension of her body and not as a burden. With the motativing hand of her elder brother, Renrorien was taught the opposite emotions towards her gift, to love and accept it. Reaching out slowly, her white fingers touched the mirror where her wings reflected. The gold and emerald silk gift was the only connection she held to her other bloodline.

Suddenly a copper face filled the reflection. An expression of pure disgust was visible at the reveal of the wings. However, it was quickly masked by a fake smile that a blind man would see-through. "Here you go, Mistress" Shalana ducked her head slightly as she handed Renorien the dress requested. "Let me help", the handmaid insisted when the half-breed reached for the corset to bind her wings down. Renrorien suspected that her server took pleasure out of cutting the movement off and permitting securing them to her back. A sharp gasp was wrenched from her as the handmaid pulled at the strings of the corset. Some pain was apparent at that daily ritual, as the circulation was cut off for the day.

"As beautiful as always, Princess" Renrorien wished to laugh but held it back. Just nodding her head to Shalana in acknowledgment. Her people only viewed her as beautiful when the part dubbed as treasonous was concealed and out of sight. The half-breed had to conform to society's rules to be perceived as anything more than a crossbred mongrel. It was the same as if a woman laid with a man, unwedded, would be cursed out as a whore. To be viewed and respected as much as a piece of garbage on the street would be. Nothing but the destruction of herself seemed to please her people. So Renorien has given up trying to defer the mindset of people that are so buried in traditions.

By the time the corset fit uncomfortably around her breasts and waist, there appeared to be coldness in her sapphire eyes. Like the corset had squeezed all the air from her lungs, and she stood as soulless as a corpse. The running thoughts in Renrorien's mind were ones that, if uttered out loud, punishment would be shifted and heavy. Patting slightly at the thin silk around her body and sighing momentary, the half-breed exited her changing room. A bright smile crossed Shalana's face, and side-eye is what the handmaid received from the mistress. She wasn't willing to give any appreciation towards the handmaid.

"Sage'', the demanding voice of the half-breed called out, a timid and dainty creature crawled out of the welcoming shadows. The Elgora took twice as long to arrive at her destination than the newborn learning to walk.No bigger than resting two hands together did the creature measurements reach. The colours of its spotted black and grey fur were shiny in the broken sun rays. The unknown animal's fragile starch was simply a clever depiction; in reality, the Elgora was a creature to fear. They can shapeshift into any type of beast and will harbour their abilities. They are also quick-tempered if not partnered with an elf and will attack. Though Sage is the only recorded Elgora in history.

Once by the side of her master, the sound of bones breaking and being forced back together filled the air. It caused the handmaid to cringe and scrunched up her face. The tiny form of the Elgora was now morphed into wedged-eagle standing at 71 centimetres tall with her wings spread out. Renrorien whistled and held out her arm; Sage immediately flapped her wings then landed gracefully on her master. The sharpened claws slightly dug into the white flesh of the half-breed, the Elgora's beady-eyes boreholes into Shalama's head. The creature could sense the resentment and judgment energies that were radiating off the handmaid's soul. Sage is immensely defensive of her master and would often intimidate elves around them. She could sense the callous vibes that the elves felt in their souls towards the princess.

"Shalama, please just stay here. I wish to have some time to myself." The half-breed didn't wait for a reply as she had moved out of her bedroom and down towards the courtyard. She was most thankful that her father hadn't summoned her, that would equal up to an execution day, and she knew within she couldn't coop watching another one. "Sage, this place is suffocating, these corridors I've walked a million times before," Renrorien complained to her pet, and the Elgora answered with a squawk. "At least you agree with me" She never took into that maybe Sage actually disagreed with her. Sage nestled her head into the half-breed's silver locks showing the abundance of love that the Elgora held. "Yes, yes. I love you too" Renorien chuckled as she petted the eagle on her shoulder.

She arrived shortly into the courtyard; her brother's hiding spot was in the horse pens. Their father refuses to step foot into the pens because of an uncontrollable fear of horses. Which the children found quite laughable. There was a blaring screech in the air as Sage took off from the half-breed's shoulder. She was soaking up the morning sun before landing on a branch. The Elgora was constantly in the vicinity and never stranded far from her master, in case there was danger about. "Ah, Renny", Darcassan called out. Brushing his hands of any fur or hay that might be present from the pen. He jogged a few metres before he interwove his arms around his little sister. "It's good to see that you have the sun on your face!" The brother cocked a smirk whilst staring down at her. "You seem to be whiter than normal", Briefly poking at Renornien's cheek while teasing her.

"You're just jealous because I get all the boys with this perfect skin", She shot back at Darcassan before knocking his hand off her cheek. She shoved past her brother to seek out the comfort of the horses. "Oh, no need for such a low blow there, Renny. I'm already hearing rumours of you being cold-hearted. But there's no need to confirm those whispers" The half-breed barely listened to her brother's cheekily comebacks. She already knew about the rumours that the citizens were sharing, the whispers spread like wildfire, and there didn't seem like there would be an ending. To remove those harsh thoughts, she gave her time and attention to the palomino horse in front of her. Its creamy coat and white mane seem to be the reason for drawing the half-breed's focus.

"Why have you summoned me here, brother?" The half-breed requested not giving Darcassan any of her attention, though. It seems that the horse was more important. The boy hummed and adjusted his purple suit jacket before opening it to reach into the pocket. "Well, if you're done with the dramatics, someone has asked for your appearance" The future King waved the paper in the air, thus receiving the attention of Renrorien rather quickly. She wanted to immediately question who it was as she reached for the letter. "No" The brother snatched it out of his sister's grasps, then hung it high in the air that was beyond her height. The half-breed expression alters from wonder to irritation as she rises on her tippy toes, desperately trying to access the note. "I don't think so, dear sister. Not unless it's from your dear lover boy!" 'lover boy' was spoken in a dreamy tone as Darcassan teased Renrorien and the boy she held close to her heart.

"Well, obviously, it's from Iston!" She grunted through clenched teeth as she finally seized the letter. "Divine deity, Rillifane, send me strength, please," Renrorien muttered to herself as she tore open the sealed request. The sibling duo adorned each other immensely and would kill anyone that harmed them. Nevertheless, that doesn't take from the fact they taunt each other. Peaking over his little sister's shoulder, which was relatively easy to do as the future king was 6'0 feet. Sensing her brother's peering ember eyes, Renrorien shoves him with her arm and announces where the meeting is. "Iston wants to meet by the river bed" There was a pause from Darcassan. The easygoing nature that was present had disappeared. Now, the aware and vigilant older brother stood guard over Renrorien. Many sightings of Dark Elves have been seen near the river bed of Rhunthor, and that was the last area Darcassan wanted her going. Regardless, the future king knew how stubborn and rebellious the half-breed is. Forcefully excluding Renrorien from attending this would only cause more issues to arise.

"An hour only, that's it" Darcassan wasn't going to allow any negotiation between himself and Renrorien. No matter how domineering the half-breed believed she was, there was no chance that she could stand in a fight against a Dark Elf, and the older brother knew that. "If you're not back by the hour, I will come after you" Evidence of seriousness was genuine in the future king's tone, and Renrorien settled on that agreement. If she would fight against it, the time would only be shortened. A broad smile arose on the half-breed when her brother gestured for her to escape from the unguarded seal in the stone defence walls. "Thank you, Cas!" She rushed as engulfed her brother in an embrace then darted for exit.

The echoes of flapping wings rang out through the air as Sage soared around, seeking out any danger that could pose a threat to her master. The Elgora kept her elegant presence in the overclouded sky, never stranding more than a few metres from Renrorien. Once the half-breed merged on the other side of the stone walls that sheltered her existence from the rest of Kytano, her companion came and landed near her. The sound of breaking bones occurred as yet again, Sage morphed her physical exterior. The unpleasant experience of viewing an Elgora shifting would make anyone unfamiliar with these creatures recoil in disgust. As the unknown creature's bones are continually breaking and being reattracted together to form a different structure. Nevertheless, Renrorien has grown accustomed to the sensation as she has been paired with Sage since birth.

The completed figure of Sage was now a Tibetan Mastiff, a breed of dog that stands at 71 centimetres and is easily manoeuvred between the treelines. The black fur that stood fluffed up on the Elgora's face brought a chuckle out in the half-breed. The primary forms that Sage selected to use were the Tibetan Mastiff and the Wedge-tail eagle. The creature was rarely seen as anything else. As this picky desire that Sage has, she never shows her proper form to the outside world. This only causes more speculation about the actual existence of the Elgora.

"Hurry up, Sage!" The half-breed princess yelled out, tumbling down the dirt track. Overgrown branches and shrubbery blocked her line of sight. Anything could leap out, and she wouldn't even be able to react to it. These times in Kytano have manifested it into a treacherous and unpredictable land. The only safe haven is within the castle walls, where heavily armed militia stand between any threat and the subjects. Renrorien was a naive teen that thought herself to be invincible to any dangerous situation. Maybe that was the regular thought pattern for teens, or perhaps it was her privileged life that had convinced her, there was no severe risk of the outside world. A sudden thunderclap drew Renrorien's attention to the sky.

The rumbling of the oncoming thunderstorm drummed over the lands of Kyanto, like an invasion of warriors was arriving. The dark shades of black and purple were signs that the storm would cause quite a disruption for the elves that inhabited the lands. Though by the lack of agitation from Sage, the half-breed could determine that the rolling clouds were still many hours away from them. That allows her and Iston the hour to at least be in summer rays. However, what went unnoticed by both the half-breed and the Elgora, were the dancing shadows that skulked in the thicket behind them. Their shifting laid undetected by the protective creature. No footsteps were revealed even with the scattering of branches on the ground.

The ruby-red orbs held an unvarying focus on the formally dressed princess as she made her way through the thickening overhang. They were thirsting at the thought of spilling a red river of blood and rendering the golden wings of the half-breeds back. The Dark Elves sought out any methods that would bring the king to his knees. This species of heinously disfigured and murdering elves had been craving their way towards the ruling of Kytano since the Higher Ruling Civil War. Four thousand years, the Dark Elves fought secret battles, planning terrorist attacks and performing massacres, all, in turn, worming their way closer to the throne. The beginning was to eliminate Renrorien, the bastard daughter of the king and turn the attention to eradicating the Sun Elves' bloodline. By the setting of the sun in Kytano, a new ruling will dawn, and a black mark would change the course of history.

All developing once, the bastard daughter held no more air in her lungs.

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The disbelief and appalling nature of the situation is what kept the half-breed's legs grounded. She considered herself a statue. No movement or breath unbounded itself from her body. Her sapphire eyes staring down at the lifeless body of the former lover. His body was angled in an almost relaxed position. His left foot tucked under his right thigh whilst his leg was facing a 45-degree angle and directed outward. The right leg was laid out completely straight, and his foot was slightly on a lean. One of Iston's arms rested limply on his chest while the other laid stretched outsides his body. The fingers on his left hand appeared like it was caressing the grass beneath. Three arrows protruded from the once lively teen, one in his right thigh, the other in his upper right arm, and the killing blow was the arrow to the chest. The arrow had pierced through Iston's heart, killing him instantly.

Renrorien's legs buckled under her, and she instantly melted to the ground. Her hand-stitched blue dress stained by mud and blood of Iston. The shakiness of her hands wouldn't calm, as wide sapphire orbs were scarred with the permanent image of the blood-stained palms. The half breed had witnessed violence from afar, safe behind a barrier of guards; however, this personal level had never occurred. The worst of the situation, the Dark Elves, were after her. She was the root cause of the hunting. They wanted the gifted that was concealed. Iston was of proud and brave heritage, so it was basic instinct to shield Renrorien with his own body. There was a bubbling pressure in her chest as she placed a bloody palm to it.

The tightening pressure and the cloudiness of her vision weren't caused by the agony. She had been grazed by an arrow. You wouldn't be able to identify the grazed area if the thin red line wasn't there. The Dark Elves were carved from elvish bones and a specialised poison called Livid Bane. This poison was fast reacting and could easily take down a giant if given enough. The Livid Bane travels through the bloodstream and stops the flow to the heart. This is precisely what was happening to the half-breed. The Dark Elves were so desperate for her gift.

Collapsing to the side, the grass-catching her dying body and the tears that escaped. "My brother will find you and kill you", she roared at nothing in particular. The silver-haired girl's vision had finally been stolen from her. Everything appeared as a white mist, and a buzzing noise filled her ears, the Livid Bane performing its role perfectly. The Dark Elves were the only race of the species that could create the poison. It was one of many aspects that made them so dangerous.

"Oh, half-breed mongrel, he'll never know of your death. There are already four graves dung for you all," the monstrous voice of unnamed Dark Elf echoed through Renrorien's buzzing ears. The sentence was broken to her, but she got the meaning behind it. The Dark Elves were planning on wiping out the whole Sun Elves, so there'll never be a clear ruler of Kitano again. A rush of adrenaline coursed through her body as a last feeble attempt at survival. Nevertheless, the attempt didn't have any significant impact. It was merely a heated slap to the opposed elf.

Like the other seven races of elves, they all have distinctive abilities that are solely found within that race. Among these seven races, the Sun Elves hold the highest recognised position of power. Readily itting heat waves with the sun's burning sensation in one hit, they were feared by all. In the last thousand years, their numbers dwindled, so it was unchallenging for the Dark Elves to eradicate them. Nevertheless, as the toxins were carried through her bloodstream, the Sun elf gift was limited to entirely nothing.

"Agh", the unknown Dark Elf moaned, the scent of burning flesh filled the close-spaced between them. "Even dying, you have enough power to singe me." Then was a hint of danger wrapped in his monotone voice. "I would enjoy slowly ripping those wings off your back, watching you raft in pain. However, I have bigger priorities to deal with". The words that the Dark Elf was spitting at Renrorien didn't the as every sound was now a permanent humming.

'I'm dying' were the words that swirled around the half-breed's mind. Everything went dark for Renrorien. She felt no more physical or emotional pain. There was a strange sense of numbness, almost as if blankness was a feeling. She was led to believe that once you've met death, a crashing wave of peace and tranquillity would take over. Leaving your body in an eternity of grace, and no longer did mortal concerns weigh over you. Yet, here Renrorien was still able to sense a spark of life that was buried in her chest. The sensation was diminishing and holding on by a thread. Even so, the fragment was enough to cling onto until dawn broke upon her beaten body.

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My kingdom fell into corruption and ruins; a shadow of darkness now covers the once harmonious lands. The races are forced to the outskirts of Kytano with barely any vegetation to feed a single child or enchained and forced into slavery across the oceans to the disgusting land of humans. My own race butchered and torn apart in front of sixteen-year-old eyes. Subsequently, witnessing the end of my own race in merely a few seconds and now, being the sole survivor of two destroyed races. All by the Dark Elves' hands that were paid by the greedy desires of the humans for the conquering of more land.

Revolting the humans' deception and their constant need for power have directed their sights on the surrounding conquered lands. Not keeping notice of their own crumbling empire, though only minor cracks in their foundation. They are increasingly becoming flawed, and the rebellions are flowing through, threatening to bring the empire to its knees. I've taken the demands and stresses of my country and surrounding ones on my shoulders. The screams and cries of creatures falling prey to the Kanyo's empire control. It's forever imprinted in my mind's core. The visions of my brother and father's bodies swinging in the air, their necks snapped by a rope for domination. All this unnecessary death and enslavement by these repulsive humans is what gives me the vigour to continue the fight for liberation.

Terravita will forever utter my name like winds among the sea pushing the ship to their destination. It won't be forgotten easily, and our efforts will cause destruction and fear in the name of independence. The Darkenings will raise and execute the lords of the Kanyo empire without mercy or regret. They will be forced to understand the fear gripping pain of losing control and watching your civilisation be burnt to the ground.

All the lands conquered and civilisation's slaughtered will have their revenge.

All the creatures enslaved after these massacres will have their revenge.

The two elvish races lost will have their revenge.

I will have my revenge.

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thank you all for talking the time to read this! I was very nervous about posting this. I’m hoping to make a whole story about Ren’s world and adventures.

#curatorreview