Thread: Dark Truth(moon/lady)

Wounded, he fled here, seething. It was not a defeat, not wholly. No one could say that when he still weilded Godslayer, that sword his brother had shaped in the hellfires of creation. He was god, and from here to the sea in the west, was his. Two of his brother's generals were slain, their weapons lost or shattered. The lord Elterrion and his sons were slain, and many others of the elves.Though there was always Elterrion's grandson, it would be many years before the elven prince was ready to fight. There were men, of course, but such discord had been sown on the battlefield would make for bitter blood between the two. It would be long centuries before another attempt was made. But it would happen. He knew his brother. Once, the 5 shapers had dwelled in peace. First among them Saran lord of thought, who brought forth his children, the elves.Second Came Ara the fair, there was grace in her ways, and compassion in her fingers as she shaped the world and her children were men, who loved quickly and fiercely. And Nera, lady of the seas and forest, who claimed the weres as her children. Then there was Hel, who claimed the trolls as her children and shaped them to the world of high moutains. Then came the dark god, youngest of all, the sower and reaper, for life and death rode with him. And also, there was dragons. In those days, the three shaped the world to their own making. And still life emerged, those races known as the lesser shapers, and each claimed a race of their own, save ?God, who spent his time walking across the world, conversing with dragons. Alone among the 5, ?Godhungered for their knowledge. But his gift lay in the quickening of flesh, and he gave it gladly. For the elves, Saran did not seek?God's gift, for he had completed their shaping outside the creation of time, and death could not claim them. Ony Ara's touch did he suffer onto his children, and thus did Ara shape love into the being of Elves. And yet Saran was displeased. For men were not content, and made war on the elves, in ever increasing numbers. And it came to pass in the age of sorrow, Saran asked?God to withdraw his gift of life from the race of men. Three times he asked. Three times ?God refused. Out of love for Ara, he refused, and out of knowledge, the deep and abiding knowledge of dragons. And in discord with his refusal, the shaper's war began.When the world shattered under the strain of their battle, the race of man and elves had thought they would be left alone.And yet, Saran would not leave his brother in peace, and breathed air of a prophecy on the heels of battle When love touches the earth, and binds both mortal and immortal together in marriage, and the Sword Godslayer is freed from the fires, the lords of death shall fall, the weres shall be defeated before they rise, and the dark god will be no more, when one oath is broken to uphold another, the world will be remade anew, and the shapers' children shall endure. When he heard the rumors, ?Godturned to his own thoughts, and decided he would become what his brother had shaped him as. Lord of Despair, banebreaker, father of lies. Somewhere, in the far reaches of the world, there must be others who shared his pain of being betrayed, of knowing what the world would become. Of knowing a bright lie for what it is, and accepting of a darker truth. Three generals his brother had sent to destroy him in the the battle. He would summon three of his own, comrades, commanders, keepers of his castle. He would find them. He'd make them his. He'd make them immortal. Loki Altara walked through the near silent halls of Darkhaven. It had been many centuries since he'd first walked through here, many years since he'd been just Loki Altara. The world knew his story, knew his name. He was called many things. Trickster. Kingslayer. Wifeslayer. Nercomancer. And yet, none of the stories told, blamed his king or wife for making a cuckold of him, blamed them for the anger that had made him lash out and kill them before he'd thought it through. And in his pain and rage,he had heard his god summon him, and it was here, that he had found a new purpose. Stepping into the tower room that his lord favored as a meeting room, the red headed general bowed. Though to call his hair red, was a injustice to red heads. Even as a mortal, his hair had looked like blood spilled under moonlight, and the color had only deepened as immortality settled into his bones. Raising dark green eyes he straightned, his helmet under his arm, fresh from the combat training.My lord, your guard is ready to defend your castle. Is it true, did the lord of elves finally determine that it was time to marry, and choose the last queen of man?He said though he knew it was true. After all, the sons of Elterrion had long been able to catch a woman's heart, but it seemed, this time, the elf had fallen in love to. It would make him laugh, at the idea of a mortal being able to love the immortal, who's life would never be able to understand, from a sheer vastness of centuries the elf had seen. It would have made him laugh, if it didn't make him want to scream in fury. Elena, daughter of altara, tilted her head as she heard the light footsteps of her betrothed, straightening as she stepped back in from the doorway leading outside. My lord, I had forgotten how very beautiful your city was.She said smiling, glad that this marriage was going to come to pass, for he was beautiful, and she was the last of her line. They wouldn't have had another chance to fullfil a god's prophecy. Even the greatest works of man, cannot compare.