Rising of the Elven Hero
Prologue
She was dying.
It would not be long now, she thought. Soon she would pass from this world leaving behind her husband and son. She had already a substantial amount of blood making her way back to the Alienage.
The dimly lit room emphasised the shadows of her family, who were trying to treat her. As she lay on her deathbed, she glanced at her husband and son who were in the midst of a heated exchange.
"I'll kill them." She heard her son say, "They can't get away with this."
"Son, what can we do?" Cyrion sighed. "We can't go to the guards. They would never take the words of an elf over that of a human."
"So we do nothing?" Her son replied. "Stay here if you want father. I won't let this go unanswered."
Adaia looked at Enoel, her son. In his fourteen years of life, she had never seen him this angry before. This frightened her, not because of the danger he would face; for he was a skilled fighter. Even at his young age, Enoel was extremely gifted at fighting; possibly better than her.
It had been harder to teach him to talk, than to fight. Adaia weakly smiled at the thought.
As his mother, Adaia did not want Enoel to be a killer. He was raised better than that.
"Son, look at your mother." Cyrion breathed. "She needs you here."
Cyrion was always the voice of reason in the family. Even in this situation, he was staying strong for their son. But even she could that his calming presence was starting to falter.
"Enoel… Please, look at me."
Her son looked down at her. There was so much hate in his eyes; he looked almost unrecognizable. She wish she could take his pain with her to the grave; but she knew her death would leave an everlasting scar upon him.
Maker, he looks so much like his father.
"Son, promise me." She looked up at Enoel and mustered a smile. "Promise me you'll let this go."
"Mother, please." Enoel was distraught. "I don't know what to do. I can't lose you"
"Promise me." She repeated.
Enoel nodded his head and wiped the tears that he fought from falling down his face.
"I promise mother."
Adaia brushed her son's face with her hand. "You look so handsome, my little boy. I love you so much."
Her son solemnly shook his head. "Stop treating me like a child mother. You have to fight this, you're strong you'll survive this."
Adaia grimaced, she was suffering from multiple stab wounds. The humans that attacked her were armed; and though she fought valiantly, without weapons of her own she stood little chance of coming out of that encounter unscathed.
"Cyrion, I leave the rest to you." She breathed out, her speech now becoming a labour.
"Ar lath ma, vhenan." Adaia smiled and allowed her eyes to close.
She could hear her son speak but his words could not quite reach her. Adaia gave one silent last prayer before letting the darkness take her.
Maker, please watch over my son. I fear his life will be one of hardship and strife. Give him the strength to overcome anything that comes his way. Give him friends that will both support and guide him. Friends that will love him and unharden his heart. Maker, do not let hate rule him for he is so much greater than that. My son is meant for greatness. I know it.
She smiled one last time and allowed herself to drift off to sleep for the final time. Adaia, mother of Enoel Tabris, was now dead.
It was a dark rainy night in Denerim. A hooded figure stood outside The Pearl waiting for his mark to leave. The Pearl was one of the more fancier brothels in Denerim.
Filthy shems. Of course a place like this would be den for their kind.
It had taken the young elf a week to track down the men who had murdered his mother. He had learned that they were city guards who often frequented The Pearl when off duty. He did not know why they killed his mother; nor did he care. He had been restless since his mother passed. So he stood there patiently; waiting for them to exit the building.
Another hour passed, and the men he was looking for still had not come out
Damnit! At this rate I might as well just go in there! Enoel quickly shook away those thoughts. He had already came up with a plan to kill the men. He had been observing them for the last few days and had there routine down to the last step.
Suddenly, a big burly man came barreling out of the establishment. He looked to be almost seven feet tall, and looked to as if he had eaten more than his fair share of meals. His beard covered nearly his entire face save for the top of his head which had no hair whatsoever. He was flanked by two younger men, who looked nothing like the giant man who came out before them. They were likely new recruits under his wing. The men reeked of those who had been drinking for hours. Of the three, he had hoped that the one most drunk would be the bigger man; for he would be the hardest of the three to fight.
That man was Captain Burroughs one of the Captains of the Denerim Guard. he was renown for his massive size and strength. It was unfortunate for him that Enoel was not going to make this a fair fight.
"Oi Lads, did you see the tits on that bitch!" the Captain Burroughs laughed. "I fucked her real good." He was supported by the two smaller men who looked as they were struggling just to help him walk.
Maker's breath, he looks more bear than man. But by the looks it he's completely drunk.
"Boss I think we should call it a night, and bring you home." One of the guards said, as they attempted to support his weight. "Andraste's ass, he's so heavy."
Enoel quickly made his way to the alley that he knew they used as a shortcut to Captain Burroughs' home. It was here where he would strike. He sat there, posing as a street urchin, waiting for the men to approach.
The group came to a stop in front of him. One of the smaller men got on his knees and lifted boy's hood to get a look at him. The boys sharp ears were a dead give away of his race and his youthful face wore a frown.
That's rights shems, I'm only a child. Just come a little closer.
"Look what we got here boys. A little elf." Captain Burroughs slurred. "Do you need us to take you to your mommy."
Enoel did not respond, carefully reaching for his concealed dagger underneath his cloak.
The man got right in Enoel's face and grabbed him by his cloak. "Oi knife-ear, it's rude to not a-" the man did not even get to finish his sentence. Enoel plunged his dagger straight through the man's throat.
The man wore a shocked look on his face. He made a move to cover the blood pouring down his neck, but it was too late. Enoel watched as the man struggle to hold on to his life. This had been different from watching his mother die. Despite her wounds, his mother died in peace. She was smiling.
The man in front of him would not have that same satisfaction. He watched as the life left the man's eyes, he was dead.
I killed him. My first kill. He smiled to himself, letting himself feel the sweet satisfaction of the kill run through his body.
He looked at the other two men, who were frozen in shock. "Bloody Maker! He just killed him!" the other small guard reached for his weapon.
Enoel was quick to get on his feet. He removed his cloak, and readied his weapons. A short sword in his right hand and the bloody dagger in his left.
The man sloppily charged at Enoel; sword in hand. He swung wildly at the elven boy in front of him but could not land a single blow. His size was working to his advantage; he was too quick and with the cover of the rain he was almost impossible to keep track of.
Enoel smirked, I know these men are drunk, but this is too easy.
Enoel ducked under another swing and stabbed his sword straight through his attacker's back. He didn't bother looking back at him, he knew he was dead.
Enoel locked eyes with the last man alive. So this is the man that killed my mother. Captain Burroughs was unusually quiet; the complete opposite of how he was acting since leaving The Pearl. He had silently observed the actions that unfolded before him. Thankfully for Enoel the man was unarmed.
Suddenly, the man burst out in laughter, echoing down the cramped alley. Yet his eyes were relaying a different message, there was nothing but malice in them.
"It hasn't even been two weeks since I've fought my last knife ear. Now the maker has gifted me yet another as knife ear to kill, he must be rewarding me for ridding the world of your kind."
He gauged the elf before him. "Who was she to you? I wonder." His face looked that of a predator sizing up his prey.
The young elf could no longer hold back his emotions. "She was my mother, you bloody shem."
Enoel took a moment to regain his resolve. "And unfortunately for you, this knife ear will be a lot harder to kill."
Enoel then charged in sword at the ready and swung at the Captain. His swing did not find his target; the captain had stopped him mid-swing by grabbing his arm. The giant man laughed, and then tossed Enoel down the alley as if he was garbage. Enoel dropped his sword during fall. I guess he isn't as drunk as I thought.
"If that's all you got, then this isn't going to be that much fun," sneered the man. Captain Burroughs then charged at Enoel; like a bear would a halla.
He's fast, but he's moving carelessly.
Enoel quickly got up and just managed to dodge the Captain's attack. With dagger still in hand he lodged it into the man's ample stomach as he passed him.
The man screamed in pain, and immediately pulled out the dagger from his stomach. Fury was etched on his face as he looked at the young elf in front of him. Burroughs then threw dagger straight down the alley where Enoel was standing.
Enoel was quick to reach for his fallen blade and deflect the dagger away. The dagger still managed to find its mark leaving a deep cut on the cheek of the young elf's face.
A second slower and I'd have definitely been killed. Enoel then looked up to once again see Burroughs charge right into him, knocking him down.
Being hit by a man of that size had nearly knocked him unconscious. Captain Burroughs then placed his foot on the young elfs chest.
"Go on then lad, squeal like your bitch of a mother did for me." He sneered at the elf who was now at his mercy.
Enoel looked to his left and saw that his dagger was within his reach. All I need is an opening.
Captain Burroughs towered over the elf's body preparing to stomp his life out. "End of the line knife ear, it seems that I'll be taking you to your mother real soon." The moment he lifted his foot off of him, Enoel rolled over to grab the dagger and stabbed it right through the man's ankle.
Burroughs recoiled in pain and let out a cry. Enoel then picked up his blade and slashed at the the man's heels. Burroughs once again let out a scream and fell on his knees, unable to stand with the gaping gash on his heels.
For the first time in fight, Enoel stood tall over the giant man. He could see the fear in his eyes, Captain Burroughs, one of the most feared men in Denerim was brought to his knees by an elven boy.
"Please." The defeated man whimpered. "I - I…"
The man didn't get to finish his sentence as Enoel swung his blade down at the Captain's body, blood sprayed over the elven boy and Burroughs fell onto his back.
The man this time did not make a sound, but Enoel could see that he was still alive from the man's now shallow breathing. He looked down at the man on the floor. Burroughs was choking on his own blood. The young elf gripped the sword in his; it had belonged to his mother. This is justice he thought to himself, and with that he impaled Captain Burroughs head with mother's sword. His mother's murderer now lay dead on the floor. Enoel fell on his knees with relief. He had done it, he avenged the death of his mother.
He looked back at the body of the man he had just killed. If only mother had her sword that night, he thought to himself.
You would not be able to tell that he had been crying since the rain had only gotten heavier as the night went on. He knew at this point he probably looked completely wrecked, he was now covered in dirt and blood. The rain did little to clean himself of the blood. Thankfully I brought an extra set of clothes.
Enoel walked over to a nearby puddle, to wipe the blood from his face. He went to cup some water from the puddle, but before he could wash his face he saw his reflection. His face was covered in blood and grime. His silver hair was now a mess of both sweat and dirt. The wound on his face was cheek was the source for most of the blood that covered his face and would probably scar after all was said and done.
His mother's words rang out in his head, "Promise me."
He bowed his head in sorrow and began to clean his face. I'm sorry mother, I couldn't keep my promise. He walked over to a bag he had hidden prior to the fight, and changed into a new set of clothes.
Before leaving, he checked to see if any of the men had coins or valuables. The men had little to nothing, probably spending the majority of what they had at The Pearl beforehand. He also knew that he would have to leave his mother's sword at the scene. There's no way I'd be able to walk around the city with that. And besides, it looks better imbedded in that shem's face anyways. He picked up the dagger and hid it in the holster on his leg.
He looked back at the results of his work one last time, a genuine smile adorned his face. He would never allow humans to harm his family again.