“I love you.”
“Tulomon…”
“Yes, Dearest?”
“I… I…” Suddenly, a goblin stood there. “You killed me, dark elf!” it rasped.
“NO!”
“Tulomon?”
I, Tulomon Willenello sat up. Where was I? The blue-eyed, golden-haired Halfling reminded me. The Maelthra Plains. Of course.
“Tulomon, are you ok?” the Halfling, the Ipah Iggle Miffkins, asked me.
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“You were muttering in you sleep. Then you yelled, ‘No!’ Were you dreaming of her?”
“Yes.” Inwardly, I sighed. Iggle Miffkins didn’t understand; Iliva was a painful subject. “Go back to sleep.”
“Ok.” Iggle Miffkins was as innocent, trusting, and agreeable as a small child. I was honestly surprised the thing was still alive.
Stifling a yawn, I lay back down. I was asleep in moments, dreaming of Iliva…
People talking woke me up. I wasn’t surprised by the spear at my throat. It had happened many times before. This time, though, the person holding the spear wasn’t a goblin, but a tribesperson.
The man was tall, with short brown hair, which had several long strands of hair covered in bead in a barbaric fashion on either side of his head. He wore the traditional camouflage clothing of a tribesperson.
The man said something, but as a low-class elf, I did not speak much of the human tongue. Finally, seeing I did not understand, he hauled me up, gestured for me to gather my things, and led my roughly to a village of primitive tents.
I was taken to a large tent, presumably the king’s, if these savages had such a thing. Stepping inside, I was surprised to find a frail-seeming white-haired old crone. I was reminded of why I was glad I was an elf; I’d never seen an elf this old and ugly, but humans seemed to spend most of their short lives in this stage. A glance from her changed my mind about her frailty; that gaze said she could break me into pieces with her bare hands.
“Who’s that?” The tribespeople hadn’t killed the Ipah. A pity.
“I am Su’aco Chath, of the Lo’lorox Tribe on the Maelthra Plains,” the woman said in the same off-beat form of Elven Iggle Miffkins used. “Who are you, travelers, and where do you go?”
Scanning my brain, I thought of everything I knew of the tribespeople. Everything I knew said that these primitives would stop at nothing in their effort to kill me. Was this the tribe that ate their prisoners’ still-beating hearts…
“I am Tulomon Willenello. Of the Forest Elves,” I told her. Perhaps they valued honesty… Not likely, but worth a try. “My companion is Iggle Miffkins of the Ipah. We were visiting his family, and are traveling to the Elven Home, because… I’ve… been away… for… a while..” Perhaps she wouldn’t notice my slip.
“It is strange to see a Forest Elf and an Ipah traveling together,” she commented. “Are you sure there is nothing else you wish to tell me?” I had a feeling she’d noticed my slip.
“Uh…”
“He’s a dark elf!” I briefly considered strangling the wretched Halfling as I winced at his words. Too bad killing is blasphemy… Why couldn’t he keep his fool mouth shut?
Curiously, Su’aco Chath didn’t leap up and scalp me. Instead, she walked to the door of the tent, poked her head out, and looked around. After a moment, she went back to where she had been sitting, and sat back down, motioning for us to do the same.
“A dangerous thing to say,” she susurrated in a low voice. “But one that changes everything. Tulomon Willenello, why are you going to the Elven Home?”
“He wants to see his girlfriend! He-” A look from Su’aco Chath and a gag from my pocket silenced the Ipah.
“Is what he said true?” she asked me. I nodded. “Do not travel that way. The Elves are stirring, and you would be caught. They would arrange for your death.”
“But… The Elves would never kill me! Killing is blasphemy!”
“If your kin catches a Dark Elf for the second time, the Elf is given to the tribespeople to do with as they will. And I know what they will. You will die. The tribespeople hate followers of the Destroyer as much as the Elves do. Go South instead. There is a great forest beyond Che’el d’Verin. In it is a village of Dark Elves. You will be accepted and safe there.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
Her eyes glinted. “Some of us have vows to a lord other than a tribal chief.” Catching the implications, I nodded. “Now go! I will handle the tribe.”
Iggle Miffkins and I took her advice and left.
By taking turns as sentry, the two of us managed to avoid the other tribes. We stopped briefly in Che’el d’Verin for supplies, but the violent nature of the city didn’t suit me. Nor did the shouts of, “Filthy Elf!”
Then we arrived at the Venorsh Forest
There was no warning; I could see nothing but trees, and suddenly, there was a village. Cautiously, I went in, Iggle Miffkins trailing behind.
A sign hanging over a nearby door proclaimed “Newcomers Here!” in peeling gilt letters. I went inside.
A dark-haired elf maiden sat behind a desk. “Who are you?” she asked in a tired voice. I answered. “Are you alone?” I looked at Iggle Miffkins.
“I’m with him!” the wretched Ipah piped up. I groaned.
The woman looked at the two of us curiously for a moment. “Welcome to The Village. Here is a map,” she gave us one, “with your house marked on it. You will be expected to take up a trade of some kind within the month. Do you have any money?” I shook my head. “You will receive free goods at the general store for the next month, then. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask!” I thanked her, and she waved me out.
“Iliva, darling,” I murmured, holding her close. She snuggled closer. “You’re so beautiful.” I kissed her.
“You’re so handsome,” she told me between kisses. “And so strong. So… powerful.”
I pulled back. I’d sworn my soul to the Dark Lord to gain power. Did she know…? No; if she did, she’d hate me.
“What’s the matter?” she asked plaintively.
“Nothing.” How I hated lying to her.
“Are you sure? If something was wrong, you would tell me?” How could she doubt me?
“Of course, my precious.” I hugged her. “There are no… no secrets between us.” What had I been reduced to? I could lie to my true love! How could I live with myself?
“No secrets?” Iliva turned into a goblin. “Why did you kill me?”
I sat up, positively dripping sweat. Why had I lied to her? How could I? She was my life, my soul…
Our differences in faith were a deep chasm between us. Without these differences, I’d never have lied to her. But what if…?
“Dark Lord Canih, I forsake you,” I whispered to the darkness. He would hear. The darkness was his domain.
Now there was nothing between Iliva and me.
The next morning found me strolling in the surrounding forests. What would I do now? I was no longer a Dark Elf. How would I tell people I’d forsaken my vows? What would the villagers do when they found out? Perhaps Iggle Miffkins…
My feet had carried me back to The Village. I’d have to talk to the wretched Ipah. He’d-
“Tulomon Willenello?” It was the Elven maiden I’d met the day before. “I forgot to tell you; I have a message. Somebody wants to talk to you. She lives in that house.” She pointed to a small house nearby. “Room number three.” I thanked her, and walked over. The houses in The Village were like little condominiums, with several miniature houses each. Door number three was covered in peeling paint, and there were a few dead weeds in a window box. The house looked rather tumble-down, compared to the others. Curious as to why someone wanted to talk to me, I knocked on the door.
Iliva opened the door.
I couldn’t speak. All I could do was stare. Iliva. Here. But something was wrong. She’d been slender before, but now her slimness bordered on anorexia, causing the shapeless dress- I couldn’t tell what colour it had been once, as it was dirty beyond all possibility- to hang looser than it should have. Her already pale skin was as white as a phantom. Her chestnut hair had lost it’s shine and lustre, and was hanging limply down her back. Her beautiful, laughing green eyes that I remembered so well had gone dull.
“Tulomon?” Life suddenly returned in a flare to her eyes. “Is that really you?” I nodded, still to shocked to speak. “Oh, Tulomon!” She flung herself into my arms.
I was stunned. She didn’t hate me? She still loved me? How…? It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Leaning over, I kissed her. She returned the kiss…
“Tulomon,” she murmured warmly, snuggling closer. A glance out the window told me a bit of time had passed since we’d moved inside.
“What is it, darling?” I asked. She was so beautiful…
“I… I have something to tell you.” Thinking about my vow-removal the previous night, I said,
“I have something to tell you, too.”
“You first.”
“No, you, darling. Nobility before commoners!” She smiled.
“I… I don’t know how to say this. We’re both the same, here. You first.”
“Very well. I… I am no longer a Dark Elf. I couldn’t… What is it?” But from the look on her face, I knew.
“You might not be a Dark Elf,” she whispered, “but I am.”
I was stunned. Just stunned. Was it because of me? Was it…
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Say we can sort it out tomorrow,” she begged. I nodded.
“And what will we do until then?”
Iliva just smiled.
She was a Dark Elf. But she was with me. Everything was right.