Velmora: Chapter 10 – Echoes of a Shattered Age
Elera had just finished her daily elf dance lesson; every muscle in her body trembled slightly with the echoes of graceful movements and ancient melodies. Her feet were light, as if gliding on an invisible rhythm, and her steps as cheerful as ever. A pure happiness, stemming from completing her favorite activity of the day, shone on her face. A few of her braids had already come undone, and her emerald green eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. The boundless energy deep within her soul permeated every movement.
As she left the dance hall, her mind was filled with a single thought: her younger brother, Aeolin. She headed towards the library to find him and play together. The library, a stark contrast to Elera's vibrant energy, was a sacred place dominated by silence and the scent of old parchments. But Elera knew Aeolin would be there; her brother was always lost among books, dreaming of his next great adventure in pursuit of a new story.
She found Aeolin behind a massive shelf, his nose buried in an ancient tome. The dusty, distinctive scent of books was the finest perfume to him; the whisper of the pages was like a lullaby to his ears. Elera approached silently, like a cat, and suddenly touched Aeolin's shoulder.
"Boo!" she whispered, her voice muffled to avoid disturbing the library's sacred silence, yet still full of cheer.
Aeolin flinched, his precious book almost falling to the floor. When he looked up from the book to his sister, a slight surprise appeared on his face, followed by that familiar, calm smile. "Elera! What are you doing? You almost gave me a heart attack!" he exclaimed, but the softness in his voice betrayed his affection for his sister.
Elera giggled. "I found you! My dance lesson is over. Come on, let's play a game. Maybe hide-and-seek? Or... how about a treasure hunt in the labyrinth of the library?" Her eyes sparkled with the excitement of the idea.
Aeolin carefully placed his book back on the shelf. "Treasure hunt? Elera, this is a library. We need to be quiet." His voice was as calm as ever, a balance to his sister's enthusiasm. Aeolin was not as energetic as Elera; he possessed a more thoughtful, observant spirit. However, his sister's joy always drew him in; Elera's light illuminated Aeolin's world.
"But it will be so much fun!" Elera tugged at Aeolin's arm. "Besides, no one will notice. Come on, please, please, please!" Elera's eyes shone, a sparkle too strong for Aeolin to resist; his sister's innocent insistence melted all his objections.
Aeolin sighed deeply. "Alright, alright. But we have to be quiet. And if Librarian Elara catches us, I'm blaming it all on you."
"Deal!" Elera smiled triumphantly and dragged Aeolin towards the less-used back corridors of the library, where ancient parchments and forgotten scrolls resided. The corridors were dimly lit, lined with shelves that stretched to the ceilings. With every step, the distinctive, nostalgic scent of old paper and dried ink grew stronger.
Their game was filled with whispers and muffled giggles. Elera searched for a surprise around every corner, while Aeolin carefully observed their surroundings, trying to keep up with his sister's energy. Neither Elera nor Aeolin had yet formed their mana cores, which made them ordinary elves. They were equipped only with theoretical knowledge of magic, lacking any practical power. This left them vulnerable to the dangers of the outside world, but for now, within the safe and familiar walls of the library, it mattered little.
Just as they ventured deeper into an old, forgotten section, Elera suddenly stopped. Aeolin barely managed to halt before bumping into his sister. "What's wrong?" he whispered.
Elera's eyes were fixed on something they had never noticed before. Between two massive, carved oak shelves, a door stood as if it had always been there, yet at the same time seemed entirely out of place. The door was made of dark, almost black wood, adorned with intricate, ancient elven symbols. But the strangest thing was the air around the door, which subtly shimmered, as if emitting an invisible heat wave. The children had passed this corridor countless times, perhaps hundreds, but this door wasn't there. Or was it? It was as if it had been erased from a corner of their minds, only to suddenly appear now.
"What... what is this?" Elera's voice was filled more with curiosity than shock; her childish spirit trembled with a desire for the unknown.
Aeolin also looked at the door, frowning. His mind questioned how he could have overlooked such a structure before. "I've never seen this before. How could it be..."
Elera took a step towards the door, as if an invisible force was drawing her. She heard a resonating voice from the depths of her heart. Come in. Come in. It wasn't a whisper; it was a summons. An ancient echo, like a melody permeating the deepest parts of her soul; this call was beyond simple curiosity.
"Elera, stop!" Aeolin grabbed his sister's arm. "This is something we don't know. It could be dangerous." There was worry in Aeolin's eyes; he was always more cautious, more skeptical of the unknown.
But Elera was already enchanted by the call. Her eyes were fixated on the door, as if nothing else existed. "We have to go, Aeolin. Something is calling me."
Elera reached for the doorknob without hesitation. She felt a cold, metallic touch. The door opened with a slight creak, revealing a dark, swirling void beyond. A faint breeze came from within, but this wind was unfamiliar; it was as if time itself was breathing. Elera, without a moment's pause, stepped onto that dark threshold, boldly venturing into the unknown.
Aeolin saw his sister step inside. He was curious about the door, yes, but also felt an instinctive fear. Neither of them had yet formed their magic cores; this left them vulnerable to any danger. Someone could easily neutralize them. But with his sister about to enter, Aeolin had no choice. He couldn't leave Elera alone on that dark threshold. Despite his fear, Aeolin reluctantly followed.
Aeolin hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. But seeing his sister's silhouette disappear into the darkness, he suppressed his fear and plunged after her.
The moment they stepped into the room, time and space around them began to warp. The familiar library walls melted away, replaced by a chaotic swirl of colors and sounds. Visual distortions engulfed everything; shelves elongated, bent, then suddenly shrank and fragmented. The sensation of gravity constantly shifted; one moment they were floating in the air, the next they felt as if they were falling into a bottomless abyss. Sounds muffled, distorted, turning into a roaring storm in their ears. The air itself was heavy with an unfamiliar, overwhelming energy, as if with every breath they were inhaling the weight of thousands of years.
The vortex stopped abruptly. Elera and Aeolin crashed onto a hard surface, breathless. When they opened their eyes, they found themselves in the middle of a burning forest. The sky was painted with orange and red hues of flames, and the smell of smoke stung their nostrils. Trees burned like colossal torches, crackling flames rising to the sky. But this fire was not an ordinary forest fire; it was the devastation caused by a mana storm. The air itself was filled with an intense, overwhelming energy; this was the presence of mana, pure, primal power reshaping the world.
Mana was everywhere. It rose from the depths of the earth, danced through the burning trees, forming shimmering dust clouds in the air. This was the period when mana first appeared in Velmora; it roared around them like an uncontrolled, wild storm. Elera and Aeolin had never experienced anything like this before; without their magic cores formed, they were completely defenseless amidst this overwhelming power. Shock and fear were etched on their faces; in their eyes was the weight of this new and brutal reality.
The emergence of mana had fundamentally changed the world. Now, magic determined who was powerful. This marked a radical deviation from previous societal structures; power now relied not just on physical strength, but on the ability to wield mana. The burning forest and the magic storm were visual metaphors for this chaotic, transformative era. This was not just the emergence of magic; it was a fundamental rearrangement of power; a "post-coup world" with magical artifacts representing the reawakening of ancient powers that could completely shift the balance of power.
From amidst the flames, the sounds of a terrible battle echoed. The clang of swords, the bursts of magic, and cries of agony filled the air. Elera and Aeolin hid behind a bush and watched the scene. What they saw chilled their hearts.
Before them lay a mountain of elven corpses. Blood stained the earth red, broken arrows and shattered shields lay everywhere. The elves looked weak and helpless; in their eyes were the shadows of surrender and despair. Their resistance, even in their dying breaths, was futile. In this early period of mana, elves were among the weakest races across all three continents.
In the background, the demon race and its army were rising. The demon race, one of the former overlord clans of the southern continent before mana, had gained immense power with the arrival of mana, beginning to dominate the entire continent. Their innate abilities, combined with mana, had multiplied their strength. Their ruthless efficiency, numerical superiority, and oppressive aura of power spread across the battlefield. Demons were strong enough to be among the top three in terms of combat power even in the present time.
The brutal reality of war unfolded before Elera and Aeolin's eyes. Demons crushed elves with savage force, growing stronger with every blow. The elves made their last stand, but one by one, they fell. This was the embodiment of the struggle between good and evil, and the fate of the world hung by a thread in the midst of this bloody battle.
Elera and Aeolin were merely observers, unable to affect the horrifying events unfolding around them.
Without their mana cores formed, they were utterly powerless in the midst of this massacre; two small saplings caught in the eye of a storm. Witnessing a historical battle, especially one where their own race was being slaughtered, had a profound psychological impact on Elera. For some unknown reason, Aeolin was purged of negative emotions like pain, sorrow, and fear the moment he stepped here.
Just at the deepest moment of despair, a figure emerged from among the elves. She was an elf woman of breathtaking beauty, with emerald hair and emerald eyes. She was an epitome of grace.
With her arrival, the chaotic atmosphere of the battlefield suddenly changed. It was as if time had slowed, and even the rustle of the flames had momentarily ceased. Her hair shone in the light of the burning forest, and her eyes were filled with ancient wisdom;
Her aura spread an overwhelming power and hope that even made the demons hesitate.
Her unique emerald features and sudden impact indicated her importance; she was like a goddess descending to earth.
The High Elf began to advance towards the demon army. But this was not an attack; this was a dance. The Elf advanced by tearing through the demon army with her elf dance. Every movement was like a part of a graceful ballet, but every turn, every step carried a deadly blow. This was a unique martial art; body and mana danced in perfect harmony. Her blows, though appearing as pushes or gentle taps, left her enemies blind, paralyzed, deeply wounded. The demons collapsed not just from direct hits, but perhaps from the sheer force of the mana she used or the disorientation caused by her movements. The flow was filled with impossible speed and precise strikes. Her power raged; containing it was like trying to stop a tornado with one's bare hands.
Aeolin watched, mesmerized. The elf dance performed by the High Elf while killing seemed to Aeolin the most beautiful thing in the world at that moment; death and beauty had never been so intertwined until then. This highlighted the paradox of beauty and savagery, and her artistic sensibility. "Elf dance" was not just a fighting style; it was an art form. This elevated war beyond mere violence, acquiring cultural and aesthetic significance for the elves.
As the High Elf tore through the ranks of the demon army, her power became even more apparent. She was the founder of the elf dance and one of the most powerful forces of her time, who personally shattered the southern continent. This positioned her as a significant figure in the world's history, a "founding ancestor" who reshaped continents. Describing her as the "founder of the elf dance" and a continent-shaping figure immediately placed her as a character of immense historical and legendary significance, one whose name was etched in golden letters in the history of Velmora.
The High Elf's intervention had an immediate effect. The demons hesitated in the face of this grace and destruction they had never seen before. Instead of pushing forward, they retreated, their ranks broken. The elves gained a glimmer of hope and began to fight with renewed vigor; the arrival of the High Elf had given them new life.
Aeolin still watched the High Elf's dance, mesmerized. His eyes followed her every movement, when he suddenly saw a sparkle. It seemed as if the High Elf was looking directly at him, in the middle of the battle.
The moment their gazes met, the vision suddenly dissipated. The High Elf's dance, the demons' screams, and the smell of the burning forest all vanished at once. The time-space distortion suddenly reversed. Elera and Aeolin were pulled back into the same chaotic vortex. Visual distortions, gravity shifts, and muffled sounds enveloped them again; Velmora's time flow was calling them back.
With a hard thud, they found themselves back in the dimly lit corridor of the library. They lay sprawled on the floor, breathless. Their bodies trembled, and their stomachs churned.
Elera and Aeolin lay on the dusty library floor, looking at the familiar shelves around them. Everything was the same, yet nothing was the same. Their internal thoughts reflected the profound questions that had arisen: What was that door? Who was that elf? That war?