Author's Notes: No, I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh, or any of the characters mentioned in this fanfiction other than Le'lorinel. Although I'd saw off my own right arm and feed it to catfish if it meant the REAL owners of Yu-Gi-Oh let me have Pegasus. Never mind that I'm not left-handed.
Oh, yes, and I'm aware of two things: One, a lot of you will probably complain that there are no elves in Yu-Gi-Oh! My reply to that is: What, you have ancient spirits, the Shadow Realm, and Millennium Items and you won't let me have just one ELF? *wink* The second is, I have absolutely no clue as to what timeline I should shoot for, since I only have access to the (crappy) dubbed version and 'when the pyramids were young' doesn't tell me a heck of a lot. Work with me, people.
-The Dark Elf
Darkness. There was always darkness in this eerie, directionless place. One was neither up nor down, left or right. Time, also, did not exist in the Shadow Realm, for here the laws of physics shattered into a thousand pieces.
For as long as she could remember, Le'lorinel had dwelt here in this cold place made from the nothingness between the stars. For nearly that long, she'd had theories as to what, exactly, this strange dimension was. All of them made about as much sense as a white rabbit carrying a pocket watch with it. She'd more or less given up trying.
She wasn't originally from the Shadow Realm, of course. None of its denizens were. She wasn't certain what had happened to bring them together like this, but something -something- had done so. The very fabric of space itself had torn open in a thousand different worlds, hurling those unlucky enough to be caught too close to the gateways into the Abyss.
Most of them died during the journey, or soon after, their moans of pain and despair echoing in the vast dark. She held their hands as they passed forever out of the realm of the living, tried to ease their terror. Others were unlucky enough to survive, only to become wandering spirits, lost and afraid, silently screaming their agony and their rage at the twisted gods that had subjected them to such torment.
But there were some that were like Le'lorinel. Some that did not die. Some that refused to become victims of circumstance. Now, instead of being the prey of the shadows, they were the shadows' creatures.
Smiling, the drow looked up- or down, as she wasn't exactly sure which direction was witch. As per usual, her eyes cut through the gloom of the shadows like a hot knife through butter... eyes perfectly suited for such a dark environment. The faint path she was traveling currently wound erratically through the area, barely a foot across. One wrong step, and she would plummet into free-fall, plunging down through the never. A tightrope, that was all this path was. The acrobat must be very careful, lest she forget her careful training and slip.
Though sound didn't carry very well in the thick, soupy atmosphere, she found herself humming a wordless tune under her breath. It was one of the few songs of her people the dark elf remembered, a hymn to some forgotten god. Her lips formed the words, feet unconsciously matching her steps to the rhythm.
"Moonlight gently cascading down,
Leaves glowing under its touch,
Softly swaying in the night.
Trees stand as silent guardians
Watching over sleeping animals.
Moths flutter about in search of radiance
As fireflies perform an illuminating dance.
Grass quietly rustles as
The warm breeze caresses it.
The earth sleeps under a blanket of darkness."
Her ebony-skinned fingers absently curled around the amulet hung about her throat, seeking the comfort its familiar curves brought her. A stylized key, worked with the detail brought from years of experience, was all the pendant was. Interesting, though, how such an insignificant device could bring her peace.
That was because, of course, the key was not an ordinary piece of artwork. It had been crafted for her by the only friend she had in this cold, lonely realm, bespelled to stave off despair and the creeping, insolent chill brought on by the shadows. She wondered, absently, what had become of him, and whether he still lived.
*Tug.*
Le'lorinel stopped. For just a moment, she had thought that something pulled at her, like a fish is drawn from the ocean by an angler's hook.
*Tug.*
There it was again. This time, it was a definate pull, harder each time it jerked. The drow stumbled, gasping in shock as she blindly threw out her hands, trying to ward off... what?
She didn't know. Each time the calling pulled at her, there came with it a sickeningly powerful compulsion to follow. She turned around-
-and saw It.
It was a line of light, leading from her own heart off into the distance. That was unsettling to say the least. The Shadow Realm was many things, but it was NOT comprised of light.
Curious, the dark elf took one step towards the thin streamer of glowing energy... and was torn from her path as if snatched up by a colossal hand.
There were no references for what came next--no words, barely any thought. Only Being. She had no body, yet she found herself moving through the heavens, somehow, toward that beacon of raw power that tugged at her. Beckoned...
...And there it was...
Ahhh... How could such order, such *beauty*, rise from chaos, and yet still *be* chaos? It seemed to stretch forever, its vast nimbus interlaced with a random, yet not-random scribble of lines as bright as the sun, woven by the power of rain and wind and sun and wave, and whirling about a central funnel core so thick with Power she could barely look upon it. It was magnificent. It was terrifying. And It Knew her. It had no awareness, and yet It Knew her. Called to her. Pulled. . . .
Le'lorinel moved toward It. . . .
Touched It...
...And It was herself.
Author's End Notes: So, there's my prologue. A tad short, but I assure you the next segment shall be much longer. And interesting. And containing the great, mysterious force known as Plot. Yaharr!