The adventure of two moon elf sisters

Chapter 1- the story of two sisters

There was a small suburban town of Alsylenir, it was located in the outskirts of a larger city. The city of Misylavaris, the city was known for its growing rage against magika. Those who used magic were outcasted and disregarded by the public, no matter how "loved" they were. They were set to live a lonely life. No one wanted them, and if someone did, they too were out casted.

Aerilyn was among those who were tossed out of the city, into the slummy streets of Alsylenir. She was only a few days old when this happened, a mere infant. Aerilyn was born with powerful magika coursing through her veins. The thought of this would frighten the politics of Misylavaris. Her mother, meak and fragile from birth used magika to suppress her child's emotions, while harsh it was a necessity for their survival.

This was the perfect plan, that was until her magika faded out along with her life source. Aerilyn had lost her mother, while also being detected by the anti magika authorities. Her, Mikra, and her father were casted to the slums.

Aerilyn grew up quick, with no mother, a sister she loves dearly, and a overprotective heartbroken father. 7 years passed, her father still refusing to love another woman, and her sister beginning a new journey in her life. There was tension in the house, mostly between Mikra and their father. Mikra was only 10, going on 11, but that didn't stop her from wanting to change where her life was heading. She was a smart child and wanted to take up draconic arts. Their mother gave them a gift of strong magika, Mikra didn't want to waste that. Their magika was different, Aerilyn's was far more present and unpredictable, their mother was part Eladrin fey. Hypothetically Mikra should too have stronger magika like Aerilyn but their father posses little to no magika.

Their father wanted Mikra to stay home, the fighting between the two escalated more and more. He didn't want to lose Mikra like he did the love of his life. Mikra's temper grew more and burned hotter, each fight resulted in more destruction in the house, due to the unpredictable nature in fey blood.

Eventually the fight subsidied and Mikra was allowed to follow her dreams. Aerilyn was only 8 when her sister left, homeschooled and outcasted by other children, she felt lonesome. Her father tried to do everything in his best effort to make life easier for her, he even tried to help her control her magika and emotions. Unfortunately with no real understanding of magika himself, he couldn't help so much. Aerilyn understood this, she didn't blame him for the life she has, or the lack of it. She loved her father, without her sister, he was the only family she had left. They only had each other, they withstood everything together, no matter what.

Mikra struggled with the departure from her loved ones, left with no family she debated the had it worse. Except she chose this, she wanted this, needed this. Mastering draconic arts was not going to be easy, but she knew this, though with a hint of fey in her blood things weren't as bad.

Draconic arts kicked her ass numerous times, but Mikra was resilient and her teacher saw something in her due to this. Miss Saryli was impressed by her performance and decided Mikra was to master all levels of the draconic arts. Mikra did just that, at the age 18 she got to go home.

Saryli was like a mother to Mikra, but she had to go home, it was important to her that she finds Aerilyn. She couldn't leave yet though, Saryli wanted her to visit for their last goodbyes. Mikra enters her forgery, the hot burning smell of metal hits her nose, she sees what appears as two axes, one larger than the other, with a connecting point on the end of both. Saryli approaches Mikra with a wide smile. Tears in her eyes she begins "you're not a child anymore, you've made it so incredibly far, faster than any one I know" she sniffles " you've earned what I'm about to give you". Saryli leans to the desk beside her, and grabs the two axes. She hands them both to Mikra "with these two axes you must bind yourself with blood" Saryli exclaims.

Mikra holding the enchanted axes, covered with the scales of a fallen dragon, one eye centered on each axe head. She slices her fingers with the viciously sharp blade, she then hovers her hand above the eye of the larger blade, letting her blood drip.

The blood drips down the eye, encircling it with red life force. She chants her name and purpose "Mikra, draconic warrior, one destined to save the world from decades old evil". The eye blinks, Mikra's magika now flowing throughout the axe, it's eye burning red. She repeats this on the other axe.

Mikra looks to Saryli, and says "so I guess this is where we part." , Saryli nods with a vague glimmer of sorrow in her eyes. "I must thank you for all you've given me, this new knowledge and strength" Mikra says. Saryli's expression lightens up, " no Mikra, you have worked hard for this, you gave yourself these things, I merely just guided you, you have earned this yourself." She starts to giggle " well I may have helped a little, you were such a little mess in the beginning ". Mikra smiles, they wrap their arms around each other in final farewells.

With big news to return to her family with, she sets home, full of relief but sorrow at the same time.