The beginning of the end

I’ve delayed the inevitable long enough. It’s time to get to the meat of the story.

The beginning of the end of the best years of my life, came with the end of my mother’s life.

While it was not unexpected that she would die long before I would, even we elves have a clock of sorts, and eventually that clock runs out. It was the circumstances around her death that made all the difference.

My mother, the truest, gentlest, most peace loving pacifist you would ever meet, took her own life.

Imagine that for a moment. A woman who abhorred violence in any form, whether it be words, or acts, turned her one and only act of violence upon herself.

I can’t even begin to understand what was going on in her head. I know what happened only days before, but I still can’t fathom what she was feeling. There are times I think that I could have done more; that I could have prevented what happened from happening.

You see, when my mother died I wasn’t there.

I was off on a… mission… of sorts.

The mission, I’ll get into the details of it later, but it was the first time I sought vengeance, the first time I felt rage, and the first time I had a glimpse of the elf I would become. I can tell you this, the woman I became during those few days, was not someone I liked.

To this day, I can still smell the stench that I chased down without mercy. The stench that I first picked up when I found my mother in her favorite clearing. The stench that grew stronger as I carried her home, and washed her body and cleaned her wounds.

It’s the stench that will always make me think of the haunted look of defeat I saw in her eyes.

If I’m honest, this is the day I lost my mother; the day her eyes lost their light. When she ended it forever a few days later, she was already long tone.

As for me, I think my fate was sealed then too.

Introductions - My Home

I suppose I should get into the part of the story where I tell you about the town itself.

There really isn’t much to tell to be honest, it was quiet, idyllic truth be told. We had what we needed, either from the land or from the few traders that ventured into our lands. We were surrounded by woods, and there was plenty of game to hunt. And my mother was quite accomplished when it came to mushrooms and herbs.

There was a tavern in the center of town.

It didn’t get much use, mainly for town council meetings, and when the traders came to town.

We did get the occasional adventurer out this way, but they’d never last long.

There is one thing I’d like to touch on here. Every town has its ghost stories and myths, and ours was no different. So I thought at least.

Ours involved a secret cave on the outskirts of town. A cave that the elders took the ‘bad’ people to, and this is why everyone in town was so calm and peaceful. The troublemakers would be rounded up and taken to this cave to be taken care of, one way or another.

Let me tell you, I spent a lot of time looking for that cave as a child, and even in my early days when learning to hunt. I could have sworn I looked EVERYWHERE for that damned cave, but never ever found it.

Looking back, I wish I hadn’t spent so much time looking for it. I wish I had just left it at being a wives tale…

In the end, it didn’t matter. Eventually, I did find the cave; its location is etched into my brain even today.

But that’s a story for another day, now isn’t it?

Introductions - My lover

I suppose since I told you about my mother and father, I should tell you about the third, and final person in my life.

Feredir.

It's exceptionally hard for me to think back on him, but I'll do my best.

He was my first real love. Even now, through ages tainted by death and suffering unlike which you will ever experience, I can still honestly say that he was my first love. Perhaps my true love...

The short version of who he was to me is quite simple really. He was the only in the village with skills that matched my own (even if he had to cheat), and he was my mate.

The longer version is a little more complex, but I’ll stick to the important parts for now.

We grew up together, and quickly grew to hate one another. He was one of those boys who always has to be right, always has to have his way. I suppose you could say he reminded me a lot of my father.

His family had him training with the bow from the moment he could walk; they were hunters, and this was their custom. By the time I took up the bow myself, he was a lot further along in his training than I was.

Believe me when I say I made up for lost time.

It wasn’t long before the two of us were both leading the main hunting parties. And it wasn’t long before the two of us were at each other’s throats.

As I’m sure you could imagine, it took even less time for the two of us to, come together, so to speak.

Our rivalry became friendly, although it was clear that I was a far better shot than he was, even with his lovely goggles of cheating.

And I loved him.

I honestly wish I could say that I still did, but my love for him died long before I did.

Introductions - My Mother

I talked about my father, and touched a bit on my relationship with him, so I'd like to talk about my mother this time.

My mother was the fairest of the fair. Beautiful beyond belief, and kinder than kind could be. When I say that she was a pacifist, I mean it in every sense of the word. She wouldn't have anything to do with violence. She wouldn't even treat people who had been wounded in battle, if she didn't feel that NOT treating them was a form of violence greater than the battle itself.

For every bit of parenting my father lacked, my mother gave me double.

She was the kind of mother who knew exactly how to handle every situation. She could soothe my father from the deepest rage, and my tears over a broken heart or a skinned knee. She always knew what I needed, almost before I needed, but she'd never pressure me, or make me feel judged in any way.

I was never sure if this is just how she was, or if it was because she knew what my father lacked, she had to provide. I'm pretty sure it was just her nature. I don't think there was another elf on the planet who would have married my father. I don't think any other woman would have been able to reach him the way she obviously did.

In the village, she had a place of great honour among the council. While she was not on the council itself (she opted to not take part; she didn't want anything to do with making the kinds of choices they often had to make) but she was an advisor, and someone they listened to.

And she was the one who eventually put the bow in my hand for the first time.

It was way too large for me, and I couldn't draw it back at first, but it was love at first touch. It was like she knew I was spinning my wheels trying to find my place in the world.

It was like she always knew who I was and where I was going.

But that was my mother for you.

Introductions - My Father

I'll start with a point of my life that seems obvious.

My Father.

He and I did not have the best of relationships. We rarely saw eye to eye, either physically or figuratively. He was always locked away in his laboratory, experimenting with one spell or another. He was the kind of person who always searched for more power, more influence.

The few times he did surface from his studies, he basically ignored my existence. He would dote on my mother, whom he loved dearly, and would often try to woo the village council into allowing him a seat. He was brilliant, and had a lot of wonderful ideas, but there was one problem that always prevented him from being allowed a seat.

He was batshit insane.

I'm not sure how many wizards you may have met in your lifetime, but I can assure you that no matter what they study, they have one thing in common.

Insanity.

My father was not an exception to this rule. He was not only insane, but he hated me. He hated the idea that he had to share my mother with me. He hated the drain on resources I was. He hated that I had no magical aptitude. He hated that I was a girl. There was very little I could do to please him.

Imagine that for a moment. A child who grew up with a father who was not only a crazy wizard, but hated you as well.

From a very young age, I learned to stay out of my fathers way, and seeing as how he generally avoided me, it wasn't that hard to do. And while we were rarely together, I always felt a kind of loss when it came to him. All I wanted was for him to accept and to love me.

What girl doesn't want their daddy to love them?