In Pursuit of A Better Tomorrow (Sevatar x DigitalSiren)

[Sevatar]

It is a rare thing indeed for those among the younger races to remember the Alliance of Evershade, and those who did remember were often dismissed as taken to flights of fantasy, or just outright crazy. Indeed, who would believe that there was once an alliance of humans, dwarves, elves, and all manners of races that hadn't been seen in centuries, that stood together and fought against corruption from another world that was bleeding into theirs. It did sound far fetched did it not?

But there were those that did remember, and while they were few in number indeed because none of them would have been alive at the time, they had listened to the stories passed down by their parents, who had heard it from their parents in return, a cycle stretching back generations, but due to the fickle lifespan of humans, every year that passed, another person who remembered the Alliance, and the Elves of the Asuryan that fought with them.

The Asuryan were the relics of a bygone age, where the Elves were a populated race who could be found across the globe, and not living in the forgotten corners of the realms as they did in the old days. While the Elves were a peaceful species, the Asuyran were anything but peaceful, for their very existence was dedicated to war. They were Elves who had magical bonds with other beings, whether they be an elf, a dwarf, or even a human. These bonds empowered them to supernatural feet of power and had been created in the eldest of days as a means to combat the corruption that had caused the Alliance of Evershade to form.

And while the memories of the Alliance had faded from the memory of the younger races, there were those still among the Elves who had been alive during those days, and who had fought and bled for centuries to keep the remaining corruption firmly locked in what they called the Blight of Isha, where the life itself was sucked from the land, and creatures most foul prowled in the open air, where dark magic was practiced openly, and where countless innocents had died.

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Eldrad sighed, the elf enjoying the feeling of water running between his fingertips a welcome reprieve from the day of work that he had finally put behind himself as he stretched further against the tree he had chosen for his resting point for the evening. He had spent his day training the guards of Lord Ahriman in warfare, and in return, the Lord had allowed Eldrad to stay on his land for a couple of days, in return for the services rendered. His eyes which, matched the color of the water at the center of the lake closed, and he let his mind wander, losing himself in the sensations of nature.

It wasn't often Eldrad got to let himself relax, for as one of the members of the Asuryan who had fought and bled as a member of the Alliance all of those centuries ago, he was forever bound to watch over the Blight of Isha, and to guard it against both mortals seeking to enter the corrupted wasteland, and anything seeking to exit the hellscape. However, necessity would draw him away from the wayshrine that he called home. For he needed supplies, and much more pressingly, needed to find the newest person with whom his bond rested upon

Eldrad's last bond-partner had died nearly half a century beforehand fighting against an incursion out of the Blight by a group of cultists, wishing to spread disease and plague among the surrounding Kingdoms and land, and which, if they had succeeded, would have caused the Blight to start growing for the first time in centuries, and as such, the two of them had gone out to fight, but only one had returned to the Wayshrine.

He shook his head, pushing himself to his feet. There was no point in lamenting the past or wishing that those who had been lost would walk the world once more. He could not change the past, and he was not willing to delve into the art of necromancy just so he could say the words he had wished he had gotten the chance to say.

Eldrad let his magic seep out around him, into the ground around him, spreading through the roots of trees and plants before he would be interrupted by the sudden lurch of his magic, making the ancient elf stumble and his dark eyes went wide as he felt a compulsion practically screaming at him to enter the manor house of the Lord, and a frown crested his features. Here? At a human's residence? There was quite certainly no way in the Seven Hells that after all of this searching, his new bond partner had been under his nose the entire time?

Maybe his old age was catching up with him, he mused to himself as he made his way to the Manor House, ignoring the maids and guards that bustled around, the elf relying on his magic, and the sharp tugs it was giving him to guide him, and soon enough, he found himself at the entrance to the Lord's servants quarters, a small house on the far side of the elegant manor, and the frown only became more pronounced. Here?

Shaking his head, the elf eased the wooden door open and stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room around him, but his magic wouldn't give him the chance, insistently tugging him down into the basement, and while he didn't see anyone right away, his magic was quite certain that someone was down here, and that someone was very important

 

[Bunny]

Fate often seemed to take unusual turns and sometimes, it took awhile for one to see why things happened. Farren tried to believe that everything happened according to some grand plan, but in a world of suffering and pain it was often easy to get lost. Farren could have easily fallen into despair as her life had unfolded, but rather than letting fate win, she had determined to show fate that she couldn't get her down.

When her parents had died to the sickness washing through the land, they had left a young girl alone without another living relative. The city of Shuebridge had orphanages and so the young girl without a penny to her name had found herself within one such establishment. The men and women that ran the orphanages of the city tried their best, but with the sickness leaving children left in right without hearth and home they were overwhelmed. Perhaps that is why Farren had spent her formative years learning the fine art of pickpocketing. Like many things one learned, when Farren started she was awful and was often casually backhanded or the local guard called on her while she squirmed in the iron grasp of whoever caught her. Taken back to the orphanage she'd be punished, but Mistress Arabella had a soft spot of all under her care. "To your room! And no food for the night" Though as super came around and they shared their watery soup and crusty bread, Arabella would pass her a crust of bread and wink at her before holding a finger to her lips.

In time, however she became good and would bring back money and trinkets from those Farren deemed able to bear the sacrifice. Mistress Arabella never questioned her when she turned up with her pockets full of odds and ends. The streets taught her how to be clever as well. Simple things like taking care of her clothing and keeping herself clean. A noble man was more likely to accuse you of being a pickpocket if you were dirty she had found than if she were clean, and looked respectable; they would admonish her for her clumsiness but let it pass with nothing more than a stern word. It was little tricks like this that allowed her to feed not only herself but others within the orphanage. It wasn't much, she never was able to steal that much, but every little bit helped.

As a small child Farren had been a slip of a girl, a tiny pixie like creature. Growing she'd hadn't lost that, but more found herself. Farren had rebelled at the idea that a woman needed to have long hair. Her own hair was so dark that you could see blues and greens in her locks, like within the pristine feather of a raven. It was also want to curl in profusion, and if tamed could look lovely, but more often that not she had little patience for such things. Arabella had hated cutting her hair short, for Farren preferred it almost boyish. She often wore her hair covering one eye, with the length loose and falling just to her shoulders perhaps a little longer. It still curled charmingly but made her look more like a pixie than ever before. Combined with her starting blue eyes, Farren was said to bring luck to those around her. She'd never heard anything more silly.

When she had turned eighteen, Farren had no other choice but to leave Arabella. They needed her bed and the food to go to a child, not a young woman. Farren knew had she wanted to stay, Arabella would have let her, but she remembered what it had been like when she had been in need, so she'd willingly left. It was how she found herself in the employ of Lord Ahriman. She hadn't understood at the time why she'd been employed, with no skills to serve as a maid. She'd been in the Manor for just a few days and was quickly finding out.

"Milord?" Farren backed away from her employer, the husky honey cadence of her voice unsure.. The man before her was old enough to be her father, though he was older, his frame was well built and He had asked her to fetch a new bottle of wine, which had seemed odd, but she needed this job. "I.. I haven't found the wine you requested yet" Backing up, Farren knew she was running out of room, the Lord was herding her into a corner. There was the bitter smell of wine on his breath as he reached out, grabbing her wrist. "Don't be coy" Byron Ahriman had been someone once to the King, but he had long since fallen out of favor for one reason or another. So he'd retreated to his lands on the borders of the kingdom. He was still powerfully built, though his love for wine and food was starting to show. A lock of russet hair fell into his face as he pulled her into him. Lord Ahriman towered over her, his free hand moving to cup one small breast in his hand. "Please.. Don't"

Farren had never had to deal with men like Lord Byron Ahriman before.. He was a lord and while she might have been able to slip his grasp, this wouldn't be the only time he would try this. She had noticed the way he watched her, she was the newest flavor and he just had to try her. "Shhhh, you'll enjoy this" His hand had slid from her breast to her skirts, pulling at the pale purple fabric. "I don't want to" Struggling Farren shifted and brought her knee hard into his groin and shoved him with all her might. The Lord made a grunt "You little bitch" and teetered, letting her go as he cupped himself. She'd assaulted a Lord.. She needed to leave and now. Farren rounded a corner and found herself slamming into a wall of muscle, gasping she teetered herself grabbing the wall's arm. "Get back here you little whore!"