In the wilderness at the frontiers of the Empire of Arcadia…

In the distance, a caravan could be seen travelling upon the snowy road leading through the forest. Made up of many families of elves of all ages and genders, they walked in simple clothes with their beasts of burden in tow upon the path less travelled, the icy forest merely another part of the unending journey that was their nomadic trek across all of Melodia. Unaware of what awaited them behind the trees covered in snow and ice, with the morning sunrise in the sky, they searched the area for two of their missing members. A mother and daughter, both vanished into this frozen wilderness from days past under the cover of night.

Far away from this caravan, dressed in little more than filthy rags, with her arms, legs and neck clasped in iron chains, an elven woman with long brown hair remained knelt before a hulking figure clad from head-to-toe in grey plate armour lined with black fur. Her name was Akasha Ayan, and like her fellow travellers from the caravan, she was one of the Wild Elves. Unlike their fellow elves who lived under the Empire of Arcadia and had bent the knee to Elicia, the god of humanity, they were elves who still worshipped Sophia, the goddess of life and light who once lived. And thus, in a world where Elicia reigned supreme, they were fated by tradition to live on the fringes of her Peace and her Law, roaming all of Melodia in their little caravans from city to village, camping under the stars and beyond their walls.

It had been so, from what the elders had told her of their history and their ways. The Hellbourne were a perversion of nature, they said. And it was for that reason that they had, in centuries past, abandoned the Alyssian Empire of old. When centuries past, at the command of their last Emperor, their fellow elves had sacrificed the great Sefir, the World Tree of Sophia, if only to master the eldritch rites of the Hellbourne to further prosecute their war against humanity. And when Elicia became master of the Hellbourne, they as former allies and the last adherents to Sophia, had rejected her Empire of Arcadia that emerged from the ashes of the war long past.

And thus, such was their fate, to roam the land that was once Sophia's. They had accepted Elicia's Peace like any other, but this was the fate that their ancestors wanted, if only to honour Sophia's memory. But even then, every time the caravan stopped at the outskirts of the walled fortresses, cities and towns all over the dominions held by Elicia's Archons to trade and resupply, Akasha could not help but wonder what life would be like within those walls. Of what could never be for her daughter, and yet, perhaps in another life, might have been.

“You’ve done well to tell us the truth. For your spawn’s life, you would betray your fellow vermin.”

The hulking figure clad in his grey armour said those words to Akasha with a voice as cold and sure as an iron blade, his back turned to her as he stared ahead with an ornate spyglass held in his gauntleted hands. Unlike her, he was a human whose name no longer mattered. But rather, what his followers honoured of him. And they called him Orcus. Nothing more, nothing less. Blessed by Elicia, a claim made truth by his own words alongside the bloody corpses of the elven vermin, and of any humans who felt otherwise. The silver sword sheathed by his side within its ornate scabbard lined with stolen jewels had seen to it.

“They’ll… reach the clearing, soon…”

As Akasha said this, Orcus turned around to address her. To look at her as she remained knelt before him by two of his many faithful followers who stood at the ready in their white robes and bits of plate armour as they held the chains clasped around her neck as they would an errant hound’s leash.

“Yes. And they will get what they deserve.”

“But… now… that I’ve told you… what you wanted… will you… please?”

“Of course. Bring the vermin’s spawn over here, now.”

As soon as the words were said by Orcus, two more of his many white-robed followers stepped forward, the sound of iron chains tinkling into the cold air as they did. They brought with them an elven girl with brown hair who was little older than ten winters, dragging her unconscious frame by the iron chain manacled around her neck like a dog's leash.

“Isha…”

Like her mother, the elven child Isha Ayan had her limbs clasped in chains. Bruised all over, she was filthy and bloody as well. Most of it, soiled around the bottom half of her body, where bloodstains streaked down from her thighs and upon her little legs.

“What… what have… you… done to her?” Akasha demanded, though even then, her voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. “You promised me, that if I told you what you wanted to know, that you’d let us go… that you wouldn’t…”

And while what little colour remained in the paleness of her skin drained away, she blinked hard with her eyes reddened and raw, if only that all of this was nothing more than a bad dream. It was not.

“But, why… would you do this… she’s…”

“Innocent?” Orcus asked, the word rolling of his tongue as though something utterly incredulous. “This little vermin has gotten nothing more than what she deserves. You are all enemies of my beloved Elicia, and I speak for her as the executioner of her divine will.”

“I don’t know… what you’re talking about… all I know, is that you… promised me…”

“And besides, you are a traitor to your own people. As expected of your treachery prevalent in your kind, perhaps, but it’s still fitting that you’d be betrayed in turn.”

Orcus then turned his back on her, clenching his hands into fists as he did.

“And I… I have need of you. Yes… I do. Your kind may be monsters who deserve nothing less than death, but…”

He whispered those words under his breath, away from his followers’ prying eyes and ears. And then he deigned to look at Akasha once more, at the sorrow in her blue eyes as she wept for her wretched child. As he did, he thought of the elven man who was not him, the bastard who had defiled her and created this little vermin she regarded as a 'daughter'. And once more, he looked away in disgust.

“I will grant you this one mercy, vermin.”

With his stride upon the snow as sure as steel, he drew his silver sword and positioned himself behind Isha’s petite frame. He placed the edge of his blade upon her back, letting its sharpened tip rest upon her skin while she half-opened her bloodied eyes, gasping quietly and bloodily at the sight of her mother in chains.

“Mom…?”

“Tell her it’s going to be okay,” Orcus said. “Tell her… it’s going to be alright.”

“Isha…” Akasha rasped, as tears fell from her eyes. “Mommy’s… sorry…”

Thrusting his blade forward, Orcus ran it through Isha’s chest, such that it skewered her through her ribs and directly out from her. And as elven blood stained the once-pristine snow, Akasha opened her mouth to scream, only to be silenced when what felt like a blunt object hit her over the back of her head.

“How dare you,” Orcus said, walking up with his bloodied sword towards this follower of his who had taken the liberty of striking his elven prisoner with his club. “I didn’t permit you to strike her…”

“I didn’t want her to warn them with her screaming... no, master, please…”

With a single guillotine stroke, he had the man’s head parted cleanly from his neck, letting it fall upon the already bloodied snow. He then looked at the rest of his gathered followers, who collectively looked upon the corpse of their comrade as well as the corpse of the elven child and her unconcious mother. And then to him, their master who acted in Elicia's stead. None of them made a move, and with a satisfied grunt, he looked towards the other follower of his who still held, in his trembling hands, Akasha’s chains.

“Take her back to the shrine with the little vermin’s corpse, and make sure the mother lives. I am not done with her.”

And as three of his faithful took off with the two elves in tow, he looked once more with his spyglass in the direction of the clearing, where the rest of the caravan had come to rest as Akasha had promised. They were still there, much to his relief. Some of them were armed, but this only made things more exciting.

“Yes… I’m not done. She… will make the ultimate sacrifice.”

He uttered those words into the cold air like a prayer upon his lips. Little more than a whisper. And then he addressed his faithful once more, raising his sword up high to the heavens to let them behold the blood stained upon its silver edge. He pointed it in the direction of the clearing, where the elven scum awaited in their futile search for two of their missing members. Two they would find soon enough in death, should they be so lucky. The elven men would all be killed, armed or not. But the women and children, he needed their blood for something greater.

“Elicia wills it. Elicia wills it!”

This cry was echoed by his followers who raised their blades up high in turn. And by his lead they rushed into battle, past their dead comrade, past the trees and into the clearing where the caravan awaited, their blades at the ready to make the snow run red with elven blood.