Xelniya crept low through the treetops. Not far from her position, she could see the luminescent, blue glow of the lights of the elven city of Anastaré. The city was one of the three key cities of Aurma, the Sun Court, known for its splendor and its fair music that always permeated its air. Even now, she could catch the melodies played on harps and flutes floating through the air towards her. This city, in this dead of night, reminded her of the lights of her own city in Geo’Lora, the capital of the Midnight Court. However, these lights were garish in comparison. These valúnae left a vile taste in her mouth. But the vileness would soon be replaced with blood.
Anastaré possessed a series of marble bridges that connected like strands of spiderweb between the trees. The trees extended like towers hundreds of feet in the air because of the magic of the light eves. And there they dwelled; the valúnae, among themselves going back and forth across the bridges unaware of the terror that was about to befall them.
In the shadows of the large trees lingered other soldiers of the Midnight Court. The dark elves beside Xelniya, hiding in the shadow, fingered the arrows of their bows, ready to strike. They had easily snuck into the city. They had bypassed the guards with the portals that were employed by their mages. Now they were there ready to attack.
Telda was next to her, his crimson eyes gleaming in the shadows. His voice was heavy with anticipation. “Shall we commence the attack, Lady Xelniya?”
She nodded. “Begin.”
Like the shadows of bats across a moonlit sky, dozens of dark elf warriors moved forward, leaping from tree branch to tree branch. Daggers and swords flashed, flames in the hands of mages sprouted into existence. They were under the cover of night, black assassins moving forward to wreak havoc upon the unsuspecting light elves.
Xelniya would let her subordinates spark the inferno of the battle before she joined the assault. For the time being, she waited, her eyes watching as her soldiers stole into the city. She could see many of the valúnae strolling with a languid nature across the bridges of the city. They would be caught unawares. They would be slaughtered.
For a moment, she dwelt on the boldness of this move by her Lord Paalen. To send an army to eradicate one of the three precious jewels of the Sun Court…it was audacious, to say the least. But Paalen intended to send a message. His newly created kingdom of Kesma would not be ignored, as the other Courts had done at the Council three years ago. They didn’t care that Paalen had taken a corner of the cursed forest of Geo’Lora. All they saw was a disgraced elf princeling throwing a tantrum, attempting to gather the ashes of his inheritance to create his own rule.
Xelniya recalled his words at her ear before she had set out to Aurma to initiate his revenge. “They will pay, my love. Oh yes, they will pay dearly. They have no idea what I am capable of.”
What’s more, Paalen had his own part to play. This ambush was the first step in a larger, more grander scheme. It had been no easy task to sneak into the light elf city. It had taken months of planning and strategizing, and as the day for the execution of the plan had grown closer, the more anxious Xelniya had become. Until now when the attack was fully underway. She could hear the shouts and screams as the valúnae of the Sun Court scattered to rally their forces. The shadúnae pressed forward, possessing an advantage under the shroud of night, their blades drawn and lusting for blood, their arrows darting like deadly crows from the shadows of the trees that the occupants of Aurma loved so dearly.
Xelniya smiled as she watched many of the citizens of the city fall to her soldiers’ swords. Dressed in their rich robes of deep blues and greens, whites, and yellows, all their splendor would do them no good as they died and were sentenced to oblivion.
A violent scream broke through Xelniya’s thoughts. The dark she-elf’s violet eyes dropped to a bridge about fifty feet below her perch where a company of her troops was losing its footing to a group of rallied valúnae. They were adorned in their bronze armor, their star-forged swords flashing and cutting down her comrades one by one.
Xelniya placed her pale white mask over her face. It was devoid of decoration except for two eye holes and the crest of the Midnight Court in the center of the forehead. It was time to join the fray.
She leaped from her perch on the branch and fell, arms outstretched. Her long, white hair glittered silver in the faerie light as it cascaded behind her like a cape. The bridge rushed to meet her as she drew her sword, a wicked, curved thing. Still in midair, she faded into shadowy mist, only to reappear many feet below her amid the light elves, their eyes widening with shock.
She cut two of them down with ease before they could guard themselves. The other three turned to take on the new adversary. One cut high with her sword, only for Xeliniya to knock it aside with her own. Staggered, the valúnae female had no time to reposition herself as Xelniya sliced through her abdomen, the armor no match for the sharpness of her blade. The woman cried out as blood gushed from the wound and she collapsed.
The remaining two elves dove at her, shooting red and green flames from their hands. Xelniya leaped into the air, as light and graceful as a feather on the wind, the projectiles missing her. She backflipped, drawing her whip decorated with sharp, metallic thorns. She landed in a crouch and lashed out with the whip, catching one of the elves around the throat. He gasped, dropping his sword, as blood leaked from the punctures in his neck. With a quick jerk, the whip pulled taut and his head went spinning away off the bridge, the rest of his body crumbling into a heap.
The last valúnae stared in horror at his fallen comrade. He took a step towards Xelniya, but suddenly the tip of a sharp blade exploded from the center of his chest. His eyes paled as Telda, his hair caked and matted with blood, pushed him off his weapon. The light elf hit the floor of the bridge with a thud.
Telda inclined his head towards Xelniya. His cunning smile cracked across his face. “Lady Xelniya. So lovely of you to join us.”
“Keep pressing forward to the center of the city,” she said. “That is where we will find what we’re looking for, and that is where we will eradicate these vermin.”
Telda nodded and ran past her, the rest of his troops following.
Xelniya looked at the remains of the fallen light elves. Xelniya hated them, and that hatred fueled her bloodlust. These sniveling cowards who knew nothing of the sword or of war, who had spent their entire lives in peace.
Xelniya stood there, gazing at the carnage she had created. She shivered with pleasure, still enjoying the feeling of her blade tearing and eating its way through flesh. The screams of war surrounded her, echoing in her ears, music to her in this night of fire of blood.
Xelniya smiled to herself. There were more games afoot.
She turned into shadowy mist and rose upwards to find more blood to quench her blade’s thirst.
Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/jcoope12-17392968/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=8269812">Jim Cooper</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=8269812">Pixabay</a>
When in the beauty of the forest,
Elf kills Elf, and the moon kills the sun.
The only winners will be those who traverse the shadows
and watch the stars through eyes of old.