Bleeding. Crying. Dying.

Running. Falling. Screaming.

Once peaceable, the Elven glade of Kiriinoor stood burning from crusade. Children held close, mothers fled quickly into the nearby forests, begging for relief from their burns. Panic ensued as one after another home broke into ashes. Soldiers and makeshift warriors stood tall, holding their ground. One by one they fell, dying to protect the only life they’d ever known. Those of a magical calling pressed back as hard as they could, trying in vain to extinguish both lives and flame. Piece by piece, the passive village fell to its attackers.
“Purify them all! Cleanse the world of dirty blood!” cried an attacking leader from horseback. His words were followed by echoes of approval and cheer. A handful of words could be heard repeating among the attacking ranks. “Cleanse!” “Purify!” “Eliminate the unclean!” “We are the cure!” It was as if they were shouting some twisted battle cries into the burning air around them.
As the initial shock wore off, a wave of confusion shattered the defending crowd. The armored men who swore to eliminate them and their ‘dirty blood’ weren’t Drow, as first expected or even humans, as seemed likely… they were… half-elves. As helmets fell and faces were revealed, green eyes and pointed ears betrayed them as not much beyond kin to those they’re slaughtering. Bewilderment rose among the Elves of Kiriinoor… why would half-elves of all creatures be targeting them?
A young female elf, not yet having reached her first century mark, persistently held her ground. Her lungs and eyes stung with the acidity of ash and smoke in the air, yet she refused to flee. A scimitar cut away at whatever it could find through the thickening haze in the air. A quickly salvaged short sword became a second method of attack, despite her lack of training in such arts. Only her determination kept her standing after a brutal attack to her unarmored side.
“You have to get out of here!” called a male voice in her direction. Caring and affection born of decades of friendship wove its way into the statement.
“I can’t leave! This is my home! What good am I if I can’t protect it!?” Hurt and vigor both found their place in the words called out by the girl. She knew there was nearly no chance. She knew she likely going to die fighting… but if she died, at least she will have died protecting the only home she’d ever known.
“Astrea! Listen! You’re not trained enough! They’ll kill you!” He insisted, dodging a handful of flying arrows.
“So let them!” She cried back, angry and in pain. “I’m not going to leave my home!” No, not after she worked so hard to find one. It was all a blur, and decades in her past… but she still remembered it. She still remembered her parents leaving her alone to die in the forest. She still remembered the young boy, the one now standing next to her, finding her and bringing her back here. She still remembered the caring old man that took her under his wing… she still remembered all of it…
“Astrea! Don’t be stupid!” Tears and sweat tore lines into the ashes and dirt on his cheek. There was one thing he always promised himself. From that one faithful day so long ago when they met… he would make sure that he protected her, no matter what.
Caelum knew he had to do it. There was no other choice. He pulled from his pocket a gem, given to him by the very old man that took Astrea in. ‘Use it wisely, for you only one chance,’ were the words spoken to him upon receiving it. It was now or never, and he knew this was the right choice. If there was any way she could survive, this would be it.
Quickly, the boy darted across the field, grabbing Astrea into his arms. He held her there for a moment, and her urge to fight back was quelled by his nearness. She allowed the embrace, her arms hanging limp at her sides. In his hand was still that gem, the one he knew would be his only hope. He held it wordlessly against her back for a moment, just before speaking.
“Astrea. I love you. …I’ve always loved you,” were the last words she ever heard from him. For, as soon as they were spoken, she felt a lurch, and he faded out of view. She cried out to him, calling his name into the empty air. The battle and the people all faded away, his words still echoing in her head.
“I… I love you… too…” Whispers the girl, falling into unconsciousness.
Slowly, eyelids part and the dark green gems beneath are revealed. A grunt escapes her as she beckons awareness. Brushing a chunk of matted golden hair from her face, the girl takes a second to realize what has happened. She is no longer surrounded by the agonizing sounds of her loved ones in pain. The air smells not of fire and blood, but of sweet water and fresh air. An attempt to push herself to sitting fails as she still puts the pieces of her memory back in place. She remembered fighting… and half-elves, and Caelum… wait! Caelum! A frantic state ensues the young elf as she swivels her head as far as it can go, searching for any signs of him… when she is met with none, her eyes close again and a small wish is uttered. ‘Please… let him be okay.’
Tree trunks and grass are the only things the girl can see, aside from the occasional insect. Determination washing over her, the girl decides to work through her pain, and stand. Standing failed, but she did manage to sit upright without dying. That was at least a good start. Next to her lay her scimitar, the one the boy had given her, and the short sword she picked up from a fallen half-elf. Every ounce of her hatred and strength went into throwing the later as far as it would go. Unceremoniously, it flew across the little clearing and into a tree. There, it would stay for many years to come.
It was a while before she could bring herself to stand. Longer even, before she could manage walking, even at a slow pace, and with a limp. She had to get… back home. Completely unaware of how long she was gone, she wanted nothing more than to get back to the fight. Pain and weakness were now ignored. Vigor and heart went into every step she took as she continued to bleed from previous wounds she didn’t know she had. Step by careful step, she carried herself through this unknown terrain. Not even knowing which way home was, she continued to head in one intuition-induced direction. Never had she been this far into the local forest… if this even was the local forest.
By nightfall, she was still going. Many creatures skittered past her, going far away from the direction she was heading in. Whatever was out there, nothing here wanted to be part of. Astrea took that as a sign that her homeland was close. What else would they be fleeing from, if not burning buildings and the sound of battle? During her journey, she couldn’t help but to wonder. Just what was it… that Caelum was trying to do? He sent her here… to this safe place.
Her initial reaction was anger, but it turned to respect as she realized it. …He was protecting her. Even if he were to die in that fight, she would be saved by the protection of the forest. Astrea never knew if it was the Gods, or merely powerful druidic types… but nothing ever hurt the forest. Unless you meant harm to it, you could never come of ill fate within the forest of Kiriinoor. The elves that lived there lived in harmony with the forest, receiving its nourishment and protection in return.
A gasp escaped the young elf as she caught a familiar smell. Smoke! The village had to be close. Weakened legs carried her as quickly as they could manage. It wasn’t long before she stepped out of the warded wilderness, and into the village. What she saw there was worse than she ever imagined.
In her absence, the raid was completed. The only thing that stood between her and the edges of the village were ashes and smoldering remains of her only home. Twisted bits of metal armory sat among the hot ashes. Everything was gone… there weren’t even bodies anymore. Fire and death had consumed everything the girl had ever known in 86 years of life. Left was only unrecognizable rubble and empty ashen dirt.
“Cae…?! Grandpa!? … Somebody… Anybody?!” The cries remained unheard but by the animals of the wild. Astrea began to shake, her entire body going limp from shock. Uncontrollable tears poured over her cheeks as sobs racked her wounded body. Her very spirit shook as she sat, mourning the loss of everything she ever had.
Her cries were met with an ominous yet soothing rain. As if the Gods knew her pain, they wept with her. A fist was thrown angrily to the ground, and the girl’s energy was returned to her once again. She stood, and darted over to the nearest pile of indiscernible ash. With her bare hands, she dug through the still hot debris, begging to find something. Wet ashes clung to her skin, burning as they held there. They went unnoticed as she continued to throw their brethren about.
All that remained of her people, of the entire village, were little specks of white. Even the bones were incinerated… all that remained were the teeth. In her determination, she picked tediously through each pile, pulling from it the precious remains of her people. She limped toward the nearby pool, slipping in the mud, and nearly falling more than once. What she saw there was possibly more terrifying than her initial view of the city.
A young boy, not even yet full grown, lay there in the spring, mutilated beyond recognition by burns. His bare skin sat, rotting and bloated within the water. When it washed to a rock, and the face was revealed, Astrea lost all remaining sanity. All she could remember for a good time after that was laying there next to the pool, vomiting into it. That child… the one who drowned as he pleaded for relief from the pain… that child was Caelum’s little brother. Born less than a decade ago. A life lost in agony… a life… that she was so close to. Seeing him only made her think of the possibly worse deaths that befell the others whose teeth she still clutched.
Astrea spent the next hours of her life obsessively cleaning the teeth. Once they were to her demented sense of satisfaction, she set them in a circle. In that circle, she sat, and soon fell into a fitful sleep. When she woke, the rain had finally stopped, and her tooth-circle was still there. For a moment, she was unsure what to do next. However, she soon came to a conclusion. From reeds plucked from the spring, she wove a bucket as she’d been taught years ago. The teeth were all placed within it, and she began to retrace her steps through the forest.
Once she saw that accursed sword, she knew she had returned to that damn glade she’d been teleported to. She sat her makeshift bucket down, and started digging a hole with a nearby stick. While doing this, she sat there, glaring at that damned sword. That was the sword that killed her people. That was the sword that ruined her life… that was the sword that belonged to them. Them. She could kill them. All of them. If need be, her very last breath would be spent cursing them.
One by one, she put the teeth into this hole. Each one was placed with a memory of someone close to her. Each one was left with a prayer. Gods hadn’t meaning to her anymore… no, not after this. But she did utter her own muddled prayers. A prayer to life and to nature, one she made up and refined as she went. When the last one was placed, she returned the pile of wet dirt to the earth it came from. The freshly dug earth was dappled with tears many times over the next few days.
Eventually, the tears stopped flowing, however. Food and survival were more important than mourning lives lost to twisted morals. If she died… than there would be nothing left of her people. As far as she knew, she was the lone standing Kiriinoor Elf out there. This, she would make the best of. Astrea was an elf of Kiriinoor, and she would avenge her people…



She soon fell into a comfortable routine. Each day, without fail, she touched the earth where her people’s remnants lay, and silently wishes their souls peace. She would wake herself with a cool bath in the nearby pond, each time adding a handful of small braids to her long hair when she was done. Cae always liked her hair like that… it was the least she could do for his memory. Left uncut, the long locks reached her lower back, and she kept them that way.
Years of her life were spent in that forest. As time past, she honed her hunting skills, along with her swordsmanship. It was hard at first… completely alone and nearly defenseless.  Day by day was spent practicing, becoming stronger in both will and sword.
Every bit of her, even her soul, became part of the forest. The only thing that she truly missed… was the sound of a caring voice. ‘I love you’ rang through her head as the last words she’d hear for years. More than anything, she wanted to hear his voice again. …Just one more time. Before long, she moved and lived as part of the wilderness. Animals began to respect her as one of their own, and they hunted in a fluid motion. Silently, they taught her the ways of the wild. Watching them for years and years, Astrea felt as though she were one of them. The yips of foxes, the howl of wolves, and the growl of the unknown… all sounds of her new home.
Anywhere there was earth beneath her feet and wind through her hair, she was home.