The Elven warrior Eddipus was tall, with powerful pectorals, green-blue eyes, dark blond hair, and defined arms. He was mighty strong and mighty handsome.
However...
Eddipus, the sage, was tall. He wore a long white robe and gown, had survived death, leaving Abaddoth in his dwelling and allowed the portal to close. His freshly grown beard was tied in a knot and he had lost his Vidian.
Yet, he had not lost the battle. Eddipus still knew the way of the sword, still had his muscular physique; Dante's motherly guidance and patience remained in his memory; and he still remembered his training with Val. - Scribe from the journals of Master Dante...
Light rain misted the outside of a cave known as the Hallow. Beyond the patter, disturbing the silence were cries of misery and sorrow. In ages past, the cave had been the last known stronghold of the Red elve of old, a sacred place in Fonde SSique. The shrill, screeches of pain and woe carried across the cavernous Hallow. Built into the cave wall was an adobe. The home belonged to a sagacious, hunched elven Master known as Dante.
Light pierced through an opening in the cave ceiling over a colourless tree. The timber hadn't received her cure. Steps curved to either side of a cobbled platform cradling the magic sage fruit tree in soil. The tree's bark had lost its hue of whites and bright reds. Now it resembled a dull, pale sickness. Buds of magic sage fruit had wilted. Where there had been succulent harvest, the dried-up branches now cracked from near death. There was water, air, and enough sunlight that would have kept most regular trees alive. This tree, a symbol of peace between Elven and Man had been poisoned. Because a cure was not available, there wouldn't be enough moisture, soil, or open sky to save the plant from its terminal state.
Prophecy foretold that when the tree in the Hallow sheds its leaves and the magic sage fruit, Man will accuse elve and spark a war between both races once again... An elve known as Eddipus set out to find a cure in the North of Crenith, place where all evil lies.
The beautiful priestess elve Hilda, lost in grief and revenge, was possessed. Sister Lisa had taken Hilda of the High Groves to the Hallow... To Master Dante. Lisa believed that he could heal her by releasing her grief in the Chant, an ancient ritual that involved letting go of attachments.
Eddipus was believed to be dead, but he had transcended into a wizened being, a conqueror of death, a conqueror of Abbadoth. Once he was of the Warrior class, but now, after drowning in the river Tannak, he had become his true, inner self. He had lost his Vidian, which had been given to him by the Priestess.
A Vidian, the symbol of a female elve's heart, love, and affection. A small trinket, a clasp of purple ribbon with a silver cross. When blessed, the ribbon glowed with power and created a bond with others who wore the matching jewelry. Only when Eddipus lost it did he realize he didn't need it. He could still keep Hilda in his heart, still use his inner power and strength without it.
The name Red elve comes from the red trees and the use of the timber to build their houses and temples. Their skin colour ranged from a pale white to a light peach, with a hint of red. They lived in a primitive, sociological tribe with longhouses, adobes, and tepees.
While the threatening word of war was on almost every tongue, a race of giants lurked with six fingers on their right hand. The Rapha, once capable of wielding powerful magic. A group known as the Rapha Raiders seized control of a village in the Westerian province known as Seaside Alchov on the coast. Ransacked, murdered, raped, and pillaged, the community was now left as a husk for their garrison.
The Rapha came from the northern islands in Golphillim, from Gath, from across the Crystal Sea. The giants had discovered the peoples of elve and Man. They had come to Fonde Ssique to explore and trade, but when they encountered new civilizations, the Rapha were captured, and ensnared. Forced to work for slavers. That's when the faction of the Rapha Raiders came about. The real enemy of Fonde Ssique, however, was not the raiders, but a powerful elven witch from the North. She was an evil temptress whose talents revolved around sorcery.
Our tale begins here, in the Hallow, where screams could be heard everywhere.
Hilda's torment...
The walls of the cave were covered in an elven lathe of herbs and magical sages. The starry sky showed through an open canopy above the dying magical tree. Night grew dimmer as Clan Master Dante began to chant. He repeated the words.
"Dana Corannva!" The sound filled the Hallow, sending vibrations throughout the huge cave.
Hilda fell to her knees screaming as Lisa held her, trying to comfort her friend. Dante placed his fingertips on Hilda's temples hard as he continued the chant, shaking violently. Hilda's eyes reared back into her head and burning tears flowed down her fair cheeks. Sister Lisa held her firmly, lovingly so, feeling Hilda's suffering. Then she felt her getting cold. Hilda's breathing was shallow. Her right eye became black as coal and was full of glowing, strange, bright speckles of star-like dots. The dots blended into a dark, hollow chasm of torture.
Dante pushed harder on her temples. No matter how much she screamed, he shook her again and again. His lips tightened into a thin line, his face was a scary shade of red as he rocked her.
"Dana Corannva, Dana Corannva!" leave now, he said in elvish.
From Hilda came sounds of rage, like those of Abbadoth's choir. Her voice was grating, and as guttural as a howling windstorm. Her roars shook the air like a volcanic eruption. At last Dante's chanting ceased.
"Dana Corannva, Dana Cora'Vend." It is finished.
The crying and screaming stopped, but the cold persisted. The terrible glow faded from Hilda's right eye as she closed it. The priestess slumped forward, unconscious and overexerted.
Sister Lisa approached Dante full of worry, her head aching from stress. Hilda mumbled Eddipus's name in her deep rest. A tear ran down Lisa's questioning face as she leaned against the old tree.
"Is she all right, Master Dante?"
The healer's expression relaxed and he put a hand on Lisa's shoulder reassuringly.
"She's fine, Lisa but she's going to have to lose something. It will be a painful task, even physical. She has been so overwhelmed by grief and vengeance that these feelings have developed into a spirit. It has taken up residence in her right eye. Until I perform the Exorpanning, she will be forced to relive these negative feelings in a constant cycle."
"Wait, Exorpanning? Do you mean her eye?"
"The creature has desecrated her eyesight as its domain. If its home is not removed, it will cause her to stumble and fall into a snare for the rest of her days."
"Won't she need her eye?" retorted Lisa.
"Right now, the eye has trapped her into a snare of unreliability. It has caused her to seize and will continue to have her seize. She is distracted by the seat of evil. Evil is in the will and is not dependent on any organ other than her eye. It will not affect her sense of action if it is removed. It burdens me deeply that it must be carried out."
"I understand, master."
"If the instrument is not removed, an inner taint will remain unpurified. Go now and let her rest. You has done the right thing."
After lifting Hilda and carrying her to Dante's adobe, they laid her on a small cot. Dante grabbed a dagger with a sharp, shovel-shaped end and closed the door behind him, leaving Lisa outside to walk from the cave back to Hilltop.
He absorbed Hilda's pain and now began the process of freeing her. He had to begin the next chanted ritual, the howling, to release their pent-up anguish or they would die. Then the Exorpanning. He would have to remove the eye.