Tragedy Came to Yore

In a time long since past in a land long forgotten ruled by a god you never believed in there sat the small village of Yore a peaceful place far away from the tumultuous empire and her constant war and conquest. A small town where the people could live out their days in simple bliss. But this is a hungry world, one that tears and consumes little towns like this. And thus the day came when the peaceful town would have its peace removed quite forcefully. Having rallied what little folk of the village of Yore that could wield a weapon of any sort the mayor said in a grim tone

“Thank you all for coming here. I know that we are small faced with our destruction but we must try. Try for our families, try for our land, try for our home. Though we may go forth and face death we will do so as we’ve done everything, together.

Some of the men in the crowd holding sickles and pitchforks with grim countenance nodded in approval. There would be no glory today, only an effort put forth by small folk against insurmountable odds. One of the men young a newlywed holding a pitchfork in one hand kneels down to face his wife and newborn daughter he says to them

“I will do what I can to give you enough time to escape. Run as fast as you can and Mila. I love you more than anything in the whole world.

Mila Presses herself holding the newborn into the strong arms of her husband crying she says.

“I love you too, Dothwin, meet us at the red marches to the west. Our old spot I know you will survive not just for me but for our daughter too. Please come back to us.

He lets go of his embrace, cups her beautiful face and gives her one final kiss before stepping away and running to the meager formation and blockade that the townsfolk had made from nothing but wagons, sacks of flour and barrels situated at the entrance to the village. All the men were silent, poised, seeming on the verge of tears or outrage. The mayor looked at the meager band of 23 brave men and said to them,

“We will give our families time. I swear we will give them enough time to escape.

Then they heard it like the cry of an eagle the elven Horns of war they stepped onto the top of the hill seeming hundreds in their gleaming gold and silver armor they readied their long Spears and Bows and looked down the hill with disdain as if the town of yore was nothing but mud on their boots. The formation parted as if water parting before a stone as an elf clad in beautiful jewel encrusted armor that glinted in the moonlight casting rays of red blue and green every which way stepped forward leading her horse to the front she looked down at the small village and the even smaller group of men she mounts her horse and is given her crown which she puts on her head and says to her army

“ Is there nothing more these men can do, no more meager defense they can muster?" she says, raising her arms high and laughing raucously as her army joins her in her mirth. Their laughter rolling down the hill like thunder reaching the ears of the meager men behind their meager barricade making them tremble and quake. The Empress says to her Armies

“Leave not one.”

And points her graceful finger down at the village of Yore as the army of elves begin their advance down the hill. The men watch in awe as the enemy army rushes silently like spirits gliding down the hill as they approach and get closer and closer making not a sound as they run with eager smiles toward them Dothwin holds fast his pitch fork and closes his eyes in fear. As he opens them all he can see is gilded armor and the hungry faces of elves leaping over their meager barricade as if it was not even there landing behind them he closes his eyes again to blink and hears the screams of the men around him being cut down so quickly. He opens his eyes and sees 2 elves in their gilded armor now splattered with blood eagerly gliding toward him he closes his eyes again putting his pitchfork forward then feels it batted away like a toy. Then finally a white hot pain blooms in his chest. Then nothing. He opens his eyes and sees himself lying in a pool of blood that is mixing and mingling with the the blood of the others in his village he feels himself being pulled skyward and relief comes over him that his trials are over this horror is over but he stops moving upward and is instead pulled toward the hill pulled violently as his soul is then grasped in the delicate hand of the elven empress as he looks at her terrifying and beautiful face she says

“Where do you think you are going” before opening her mouth wide, consuming all that remained of Dothwin.