C C Morgen [Morgen - The Dark Elf

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In the darkness I fall,

In the dark I shall stay,

My heart knows nothing more than the silence that awaits.

She is there before me with a welcoming embrace,

She whispers my destiny

A destiny

Ill fight it till my very end.

The Dark Elf

C. C. Morgen

Book Title Copyright 2017 by Author Name. All Rights Reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1

Ali

N IGHTMARES HAUNT ME AS I DREAM of my father's death some ages ago. The wolves tackle my child-self to the ground with sheer force. I shout in panic as I watch the crimson-haired pack leader, in human form, plunge the blade of his dagger into my father's chest. I observe in shock as my father's body collapsed from high in the branches of the sacred tree. His black hair flutters in the bitter winds before he strikes the ground. The leader known as Edon stands above my father as he takes his last breath in this world. His gray eyes pierce mine from high in the tree. The expression he shows me declares it all; hes someone who craves for more death. He soars into the air as the werewolves crowded around and claw at my body.

My eyes shot open, and I panted in turmoil because the dream was so vivid in my mind. I still felt the phantom sensations of the lacerations that scarred me long ago. Even though I was now an adult, I constantly have the anguish etched just beneath my skin along with the dread and the urge to slay the wolf with my bare fists.

All these years, Ive ached to avenge my father, yet I nevertheless feared my own nightmares, never getting a proper night's rest, being sensitive to the past. Tears dripped down my face and sweat soaked the blankets on the bed. I touched the scar on the left side of my face and traced down to my neck to my bared breast. The servants' courtiers appeared empty as I peered around, catching my breath. My sight was obscure and in a sleepless daze while I sat up. Workers had already awoken before the break of dawn to prepare for the long day. Down the passageways, souls moaned intensely from being tormented in the dungeons which stank of rotting feces.

Beneath the castle of Greyholt was like a mausoleum with shackles and bones scattered on the floor from the captives kept here after being conquered by the Demon army. I sent those who opposed the council or broke the laws established by the king to this hell before their untimely death by execution. I have brought many to their death in these dungeons, yet I lived here anyway to separate myself from the higher classes and the royals above in the upper levels of the castle.

This was my home away from my mother and the clan on the isle of Sanctuary, where I spent most of my childhood training to surpass all who oppose me. Luna and my best friend Phyla raised me to be who I am now. It was an ambition to develop into a warrior worthy of my fathers name, who was formerly the General of the Dark Elf army. I had not seen them since my mother exiled me and I found battles to fight in the Underworld ruled by Lord Hades. I found causes to live for, working for the Demon Empire. Although, not even war could appease the fury that erupted in my soul. It established more desire for death and destruction.

No longer capable of sleep in the courtiers, I dressed in black slacks and wore a black leather vest, cut and tailored to fit my curved frame. The neckline covered most of the scar on my chest, but my neck and face; I hid it with a hood that buttoned to my shoulder harnesses. I kept my pointy ears covered most occasions out of reverence since all Elven people fled the Demon citadel during the Demon wars under the former empire. Now, King Balthazar rules the Demons from the new faction of lords that took over society.

I slid on my black leather boots, which moved up to my shins. The Dark Elf clan gave many presents when I visited my ancestor's home years ago to pay tribute to the shrine, created for my father after his passing. My people honored his reign as general. Although, no one knew having me was his finest victory above all the battles he won. To show their gratitude, they offered me his sword, Valora. It meant I was now of age to obtain the sovereignty of my ancestors. The inscriptions in the blade represented the lineage of its powers. To either defend or bring death.

They also gave me his Elven bow, preserved for my return and an extra sword along with Dark Elf leathers and lightweight armor, enchanted to be resistant to arrowheads, fire, and minor sword attacks. Dark Elf armor was flexible and kept me agile during my crusade into the Underworld. Thats when I ended up joining a regiment of warriors. They were mercenaries, and then subsequently became defenders of the kingdom.

After fully clothing myself, I made my way down the bleak hallways. The walls moaned; the torches mounted on the arches flickered as I crossed through each section of the dreary corridors. At the east edge of the dungeon, the armory's fire was at full blaze. The smoldering heat burned like hellfire and the laborers were hammering iron, molding swords, and sharpening arrowheads.

The blacksmith, Yeager, had already prepared my bow and sharpened a stockpile of arrows like those that he produced every morning before dawn's early light. His black, singed beard smelled like soot and coal as I approached him. Everyone here knew my routine like clockwork. Yeager and the others knew precisely the hour of day I would show up for my things. The arrows, he assembled together in a leather quiver; I belted it on my back and carried my bow over my shoulder. I thanked him as always with my right fist over my heart like how my father used to acknowledge people. After that, I went above to the surface.

I didn't recall much about the Dark Elven ways, but I remembered my father's habits as if it was yesterday. His dignified demeanor helped me realize its how you carry yourself as a Dark Elf that establishes an honorable warrior. I recall him lecturing me to have a pleasant manner, be trustworthy to the ones you cherish, battle with the heart to protect and my legacy will not matter, even if I am my mother's successor to the dark clan. My mother the Dark Princess struck fear in the Underworld, so I kept private and kept to myself about my origin. Only a handful knew my true stature, but to others I'm just the lonely Dark Elf, who spilled blood and slay Demon hordes.

The castle was like a maze. Large with many chambers and hallways that could make someone lost for weeks. The spiral staircase was ahead leading up to a gate that went out into the courtyard. Once outside, the blackness of the night still cloaked the region before daybreak. I followed the cobble-stoned path that led into the Enchanted Gardens on the east edge of the estate.

The trees sparkled yellows and oranges from the wings of Fairies. They enchanted the petals of the cherry blossoms with their tiny bodies, marking the season of spring beginning. With the magic of the Fairies and Pixies, restoring the flowers and greenery, the luminous colors gleamed in the garden. Its elegance and extraordinary colors were the reason they gave it the name the Enchanted Gardens by Persephone, the wife of Hades. She was the reason beauty lives in the Underworld. Her gardens, this sanctuary was a place of pure serenity away from the brutality that the Demon world raged in the castle.

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