Elsword: Silver Lining

City of War

The night was still. Not a single bug nor animal dared to cry out to the curtain of darkness. The sky was finally clear of its dome of clouds, allowing the silver light to pour from the heavens and into the dead woods below.

A figure cloaked in black sprinted through the remains of the green paradise. Their footsteps crunched against the carpet of fallen leaves.

The figure glanced behind, only to be welcomed by the inky bodies of the withered trees. The lone traveller averted their attention ahead and continued onwards, pushing against the invisible weights dragging their legs back.

A tree root, hidden in the carpet of leaves, caught their foot. The figure cursed as they fell, the paper grasped in their hand plummeting into the damp ground.

They cursed, scrambled to their feet, and examined the sheet in every angle.

Few leaves clung onto the paper, contaminating the page with early morning dew.

"Damn tree root." The figure huffed, brushing the leaves off.

They gingerly unfolded the paper. Even in the soft silver lighting they could still make out the scribbled words inside. They relaxed their shoulders at the still legible text.

"I should be almost there." They whispered, folding the paper back up.

Despite their burning lungs and trembling legs the figure resumed their run. They knew stopping was not an option—not after knowing the truth.

After a couple more minutes of torturous sprinting, yellow lights began dotting the path ahead. The cloaked figure smiled and slowed down to a light jog, making sure their every step was as silent as a feather. As they drew closer the woods grew less dense, and the blocky structures ahead began taking shape. The city was finally in grasp.

The figure came to a slow stop before ducking down, using the shadows of the remaining woods as a cloak. Just up ahead the traveller could see two guards, both held unsheathed swords in their hands.

A tiny voice in the figure's head screamed at them to turn back. If there were guards at the outskirts there would surely be guards inside.

No, I must press on. The cloaked traveller thought, reaching into their boot until their hand found its way around a small pocket knife. I must pass this knowledge on.

They pulled out their weapon, its tiny yet sharp blade glistened under the silver light. They tightened their grasp on the selected weapon and crept forward. The figure held their breath as a twig snapped under their foot, both guards tensed and pinned their eyes on them.

The figure held back a curse and recoiled slightly back, trying to bleed into the darkness behind.

"Hey, did you hear that?" One of the men asked.

"Yeah," the other answered. "You think it was just a squirrel?"

"In those woods? I don't think so."

Damn, they aren't as stupid as the rumours say they are. The traveller thought.

"I'll go check it out."

The figure's heart bounced with excitement at the approaching knight. Two roads stretched in the intruder's mind. One led to the option of running away while the other directed to bloodshed.

The knight was only meters away. He squinted his eyes, the figure shivered under his gaze.

I don't have time to run, forgive me.

With one swift move, the figure leaped out from their shadowy veil and sliced the tiny blade across the knight's neck. The knight coughed and choked on the crimson liquid, the sword in their hand shook.

The figure took that chance to drop the pocket knife and snatch the sword. The former knight thumped onto the ground like a rock, his partner cursed and charged toward the traveller. The figure barely blocked his blade in time, the impact forced them both to double back. The knight cursed once more as he readjusted his footing, the traveller mimicked his actions.

"Sorry," the figure whispered just as the knight came charging.

The figure leaped to the side at the very last minute, they felt the blade skimming inches past them. The lone traveller wasted no time to plunge their sword into the knight's side. Their opponent tensed at the impact before relaxing.

"I had no choice," they whispered to the corpse. "May you rest in peace."

They let go of the sword's helm and allowed the body to drop on the ground.

The figure turned their attention to the golden city ahead. Inside her citizens enjoyed their happy lives, oblivious to the evil waiting just outside their doors.

The figure picked up their bloodied knife and I inhaled a lungful of cold air. They felt their tensed muscles relax.

With a knife in one hand and a letter in the other, the figure proceeded into Velder, the city of war.