lv 1 skeleton

chapter 56

My name is Binyë, I was a proud member of  the Ellin forest tribe. My ancestors told us that we were expelled from Elfheim about two thousand years ago, banished to our current world. This was an old tale which occurred long before I was born.

For many years my people have tried to find their way back home, but were never successful. Finally, three years ago a clue was discovered about the World Tree. It was a chance to return to our homeland. All the scattered Elven tribes united under one banner, and marched on the so called Pit. We were even accompanied by the Elder green dragon and her four children who have long been the protectors of our people.

My role in all this was only to care for the weak and elderly, by Elven standards I was still relatively young.

None of our people had ever considered defeat to be an option. Only the young ambassador which had originally gone to confirm the rumors argued against such action, but no one listened.

Unfortunately the result of the battle was quite gruesome. Among those of us who participated, few managed to escape with their lives. Most had died at the hands of the powerful Lich turning to dust. Only the few that had died by other means were able to be revived by the Elder dragon. They then managed to escape but were for the most part easily captured by human slavers.

Although the rest of us tried to rally and save our brethren, we completely failed. Instead, a full-scale Elf hunting and enslavement expedition was launched.

Humans were truly cruel beings, taking advantage of my people during such a trying time.

They who had built their glory and civilization thanks to our guidance, had now turned on us. They attacked our villages and enslaved our people whether we resisted or not.

Their reason was this.

“ You are a bunch of low lives for daring to attack Necropolis.”

It was a simple logic brought on by the wondrous new products which Necropolis had unleashed on the continent. Revolutionary foods, improved weaponry, jewelry, etc. Everything was of the highest quality but the prices were still competitive, allowing them to easily control the market. Hunting and enslaving the Elves in order to have the chance to trade with Necropolis was both a justified and lucrative cause.

Overnight my former human friends had become enemies, it was already much too late for our species. With the exception of some secluded High-Elves, most of my people had been captured. Even our formidable warriors weren’t able to put up much of a fight, having been exhausted from the recent war.

I was no exception, although I had originally managed to evade capture, after around one year of being on run I was put in shackles by the humans.

One day a guard had come to my slave merchants’ place of business and proclaimed.

“We come with a royal order to conscript all Elven slaves.”

There was little different between our lives as slaves and those of convicted felons. We were treated as beasts and our future was bleak. I couldn’t blame many of my people for choosing to commit suicide, although I managed to stay somewhat positive.

I had shared my optimism with one of my colleagues, but he responded to me.

“It’s because you’re a little girl who knows nothing of the world. Your hope is the privilege of the ignorant.”

Although I had become angry at the time, he was probably right.

“You have all become slaves of Necropolis, now get ready to move.”

It was a declaration made by one of the kingdom’s officials, and we had promptly been moved to several carriages. They herded us like animals and many of us didn’t survive the trip. Still, these deaths made little difference considering the large number of us Elven slaves. Endless carriages for as far as the eye could see, I wondered if it was the entirety of my people.