Chapitre 2: Once proud elves

Arwen was nearly beaten to death by the bandit leader, yet he couldn't open his eyes and embrace oblivion. He still remembered the stories his grandfather told him about the golden days of elves. But now they had become mere creatures and playthings to be sold in the slave markets.

His village belonged to the White Elves. Formerly known as simply Elves in general, a fundamental split happened that caused his race to segregate into White Elves and Dark Elves, the latter of which were blessed with more magical power. This increased power made the Dark Elves view the white elves as lesser beings, which evolved into a bloody civil war between the two races. Unfortunately, the Dark Elves won the war with the help of humanity, and the White Elves only became weaker as a result.

Arwen and his sister Amaryll were born in outer lands; a sanctuary within the forest that hid them from the cruelties of slavery. Until now, it kept them safe from the world and the nightmare that it entailed. However, the bandit attack changed this perceived safety. Even though his kind had less magical capacity than the Dark Elves, they were blessed with extraordinary skills in long-ranged combat. Combined with agile bodies, they excelled most in archery.

Normally they would spot anyone who entered their territory almost immediately and attack them with deadly arrows coated with natural poisons. Yet somehow, these bandits slipped past their gaze without anyone noticing, immediately rendering their advantage of long-ranged combat utterly useless. When the battle started, Arwen and Amaryll kept fighting with the bandits in the hopes of buying some time for the children to escape. However, their lack of training in melee combat had made their efforts almost futile. The bandits didn't even have to use magic to defeat them. It was disheartening…

A tribe that was over a hundred elves strong didn't even stand a chance against twenty bandits.

Arwen almost wept for the end of their freedom. At best, he and his sister would be killed and be spared from the horrors that awaited them. But at worst, he would be the only one killed, leaving his sister alone to be sold into slavery. It was the one thing that any elder brother would loathe to let happen.

Seeing the struggling older brother trying to put up a fight, the bandit leader laughed at his prey. He was toying with Arwen like a cat would toy with its mouse. Meanwhile, the other bandits rounded up his sister as well as most of his tribesmen, tying them up like cattle so that they wouldn't even try to escape.

Because of the elves' proud nature, some noble humans took pleasure in making them their slaves. On top of that, there was a huge demand for elven women since they were perceived as very attractive. In this world, when a female elf gets caught in the hands of a human, the only thing that awaited her was hell. Everyone knew this. And of course, Arwen held his breath to stop thinking about it even as he still tried to get up and fight. He didn't care about himself. He was more concerned about his sister Amaryll, who he knew was extraordinarily beautiful even among the elven race.

With her hands bound behind her back, Amaryll watched helplessly as her brother took on one blow after another. Her tears flowed endlessly with each deafening strike, a part of her still hoping that her brother would come out victorious. She was in her brother's care for twenty-four years, and not a single day would she ever think that she would ever be in this situation. She knew that it was borderline impossible to gain their former elven glory. All she wanted was a peaceful life with her brother and tribe.

A flurry of emotions welled within her as she sat by uselessly, her brother endlessly taking a beating for her despite the clear pain. The sadness and hopelessness in her heart turned into righteous fury as she shouted, her eyes blood red in anger and her body trembling with unbridled rage.

"Leave my brother alone, you animal!"

The bandit leader stopped mid-swing. Turning to the source of his surprise, the large human looked at his defiant prize menacingly.

"Look at this, brothers. This little soon-to-be slave wants to save her precious brother." Laughter erupted from his joking cadence, "Oh, my little slave… You are not in any position to order me around. After we sell you, your family, and even your friends here to the slave market, you'll be the one that will be ordered around like a piece of livestock."

Amaryll's heart skipped a beat at the obvious threat. Although she already knew what was going to happen to her, hearing it in all of its visceral detail made it even worse.

"And don't think that I didn't notice that you two were fighting me- well, more like taking a beating from me in the hopes of buying time for the little elven brats to escape into the woods," the bandit leader grinned maliciously as if savoring each and every drop of their pain. "I saw everything. And I'm making sure I won't leave every stone unturned."

Her stomach dropped. "Wh-what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that your elven brats are going to be captured," the devious leader savored every word. "I sent my best men after them the moment you two came to fight."

Her eyes widened.

"You animal… Bastard! I'm going to kill you!"

Anger fueling her actions, Amaryll jumped at the leader to bite him. Her hands might be bound but her legs still gave her some wiggle room. On the field, Arwen also stood with all his might to furiously attack the man while he was still distracted.

Unfortunately, one of the bandits stopped the brave woman before she could even reach the bastard. Pulling her by the hair, the bandit slapped her right on the cheek, her face hitting the ground with a thud even as she tried to steady herself.

"Bastard!"

At the sight of her sister's plight, Arwen felt his rage swell to astronomical levels. He watched as his sister's cheek turned bright red from the force of the blow, a five-finger mark already starting to become visible on her cheek.

"Boss, enough playing around. Let's get these slaves to the market and get paid."

"Alright. Let me finish this beauty's brother," the bandit leader said while walking towards an already swinging Arwen.

The furious brother swung his fist towards the bastard leader's face. His intent was wholly poured into this one punch. A punch that might hopefully reach this monster masquerading as a man. Unfortunately, the bandit leader easily caught his fist before it even reached the man's mug.

"Let's break those arms, shall we?"

With enough power to knock the wind out of anyone's sails, the bandit leader punched Arwen right in the gut. The weak elf immediately fell unceremoniously on the ground, defenseless and utterly inept as the bandit leader went to step on his elbow and break it like a twig.

Beaten bloody and on the verge of death, the poor brother could not even struggle. Amaryll, on the other hand, could only keep on crying and shouting her brother's name as the other elves looked on with a mix of anger, sadness, and hopelessness.

However, the moment the bandit leader made his move to break more of Arwen's arms, a human-shaped shadow emerged from the veil of shadows. The bandits held their startled stares as the man was obviously not one of their own. Instead, a handsome young man in black robes walked in with the confidence of a lion, his eyes emanating killing intent as if they were staring at absolute scum.

"Wh-who are you!?"

The mysterious man didn't even blink as the bandit leader uttered out. "I am the one who is going to send you all to hell."

There was nothing to be said beyond his words.

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