CHAPTER TWO: REALIZATION

Several decades passed, and Vaelance had matured into a deadly warrior. He fought with his surrogate brothers amongst rival warlords in the dark tunnels. Many of the original pack remained, for they were a hardened lot, far outliving the average Skaven due to a considerably healthier lifestyle. Clan Eshin warriors thrive on the perfection of their body, and thus hold ritualistic exercises and keep a strict diet. They endured for a long time, and held fast to the power they had for as long as they could.

Their many victories had been shared with losses, however, and they needed Vaelance now more than ever, as rival clans vieing for power threatened their territory. Vaelance tried to believe in his cause, but ultimately could not commit himself. As a young elf of 55 years, he was becoming restless. Drekkych could sense the growing dissatisfaction of his adopted warrior. Vaelance longed to release himself from the bowels of Skavenblight and see the world; to meet his own kind. To find his place.

Drekkych was not ready to let Vaelance go – but in an attempt to appease Vaelance's growing frustration, he whisked away an elven slave girl from the packmasters of Clan Moulder and brought her to him. Broken and pitiful, and almost prepared to be served as a meal to the giant rats of that clan, she feared the worst when she was dragged bound and gagged even deeper into the all consuming blackness of the Skaven tunnels.

Drekkych, snickering in anticipation of his apprentice's reaction, cut her loose and left her on the floor of Vaelance's private chamber on a night that he was encumbered in deep sleep, and locked the pair in the darkness. In the void of pitch black she could not see. She frantically crawled about the room, fearful of what fate awaited her; as Drekkych had not spoken a word to her. She made such a commotion that Vaelance stirred and awoke. His eyes opened like blue flames in the darkness, and the elven girl screamed in fear,

Taken aback by the sudden turn of events, Vaelance set his eyes on the poor girl and was completely in awe of the figure huddled on his floor. She was literally the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Although she could not see him but for the glow of his warp infused eyes, he could make her our perfectly in the darkness. He had never seen another elf, that he could remember.. and the tales of Elven beauty he had read so much about had not lied. Even in the torn and battered clothes she wore, with her golden brown hair disheveled and with the dirt that covered her face, he could not take his eyes off of her.

Assuming Drekkych had brought her to him, he spoke, softly, as to not scare the girl any further, "It's alright." All of his years of intense loneliness and isolation had made him eager for affection of some kind. He stood from his seat on the bed and walked towards the helpless girl, who's fear had not subsided. He knelt before her and tenderly touched her face. At first she reacted in fear, but sensing his gentle intentions, eventually cradled her head in his palm. She sobbed hysterically for a moment, and then let out a long sigh of relief – for it had been so long for her since she had felt any warmth at all. In a flash of excitement, and still unable to see, she asked, "Are you Elven kind?"

"I am.." he replied, and she began to weep, deeply, and wrapped her arms around him.

"It seems so long.. so long since I have been in the company of my own kind," she said.

Vaelance was filled with emotion, overcome with the excitement and relief of finally finding one of his own. He had been surrounded by the filthy, deviant Skaven for so long that he had no idea how badly he had wanted something else. As Drekkych had obviously taught him nothing of compassion, Vaelance had to draw everything he could from the depths of his soul to make his own. He hugged the young girl tight, and caressed her back. She appeared to be roughly the same age as himself, though it was difficult to tell with an elves' forever youthful appearance. It felt strange, and inappropriate to his upbringing, but he could not stop himself from comforting her.

She looked up towards him blindly, seemingly peering through him in a futile attempt to make out more than the glow of his eyes.

"Who are you? What is this place?" she asked.

"My name is Vaelance.. this is.. my home," He replied. She looked back at the dark shadow that was Vaelance questioningly.

"You live here? The Skaven keep you here?"

"In secret.. my master... Drekkych.. he must have brought you to me," he pondered. "He has always watched over me. I do not know why." The look of fear came back to her face.

"What are they going to do with us..? With me?" she nervously asked.

"I do not know his intentions. But I will let no harm befall you. I am a skilled warrior."

She scoffed, "A skilled warrior.. but a prisoner in the depths of Skavenblight!"

"I am no prisoner! Drekkych is my master, and I his apprentice!" he snapped. But immediately began to doubt himself. He had begun to feel imprisoned for quite some time. She looked sorry that she had upset him.

"What do you mean.. by apprentice?" she asked.

He cast his eyes down and spoke softly."I am sorry.. the truth is.. I do not know who I am… tell me.. who are you?"

Her wandering eyes, desperately searching for a light upon the mysterious man's face, lit up at his interest in her. No living creature had looked at her as more than a slave for who knows how long.

"I am Celestine Dalyth, of the Asur, from the province of Caledor. I was serving as a hand maiden for the lady Eledine Solarys. We were enroute as envoys to the men of Brettonia when I was taken by the Skaven packmasters. They killed my lady.. and her personal guard.. but took us handmaidens as slaves. I was the only one left when.. your.. master.." she began to weep again at the thought of her ill-fated friends, breaking down in Vaelance's arms. He hugged her close, and tried to change the subject.

"I have read very little of us.. master Drekkych has no books on our kind.. can you tell me about them?"

Celestine sniffled, and pulled herself together.

"Please.. do we have some light..? Its so very dark.. I wish to see the elf who has given me a taste of life again.."

Vaelance pulled away slowly, and touched her face to comfort her once more.

"Of course..." He moved to the old lantern that Drekkych had given him, and lit the wick with a small piece of flint. All at once light flooded into the crevasses of the pitch black cavern. Celestine shielded her eyes as they grew accustomed to the light. At first she could only see the blur that was Vaelance, and as he turned to face her and move back to her, the shadow that covered him like a robe of black crept slowly away, up his muscled body until he came into focus in the light in front of her.

She gasped in horror, and scuttled frantically against the wall. "You are Druchii!!" her tone was that of utter fear. Vaelance stumbled back into the shadows in confusion. "Please.. spare me!" she choked out of her dreadlocked voice.

"Please.." he said. "I mean you no harm! I do not know what you think I am.." his voice was apprehensive, and she could hear some truth to his words.

"Surely you can be no good! A dark elf in the service of a murderous Skaven! What trickery is this.." she yelled.

He took in her words. A dark elf…? Perhaps it was true that he was no good.. he had never thought of it.. he had spent his life murdering rats in the depths of vile Skavenblight. But he had had no real reason to question his life until now. There were no other options open to him.

"I mean you no harm..." he said, almost begging her for a chance to prove his harmlessness against her. She looked him up and down, still huddled in a corner of the room, trying to form an opinion of him. His eyes did not glow as brightly in the light.. and he looked back at her with a soft glare. After a few awkward moments of silence, she finally seemed to believe he meant her no harm, at least for the moment.

"Who are you.. really..?" she asked.

"It is as I say.." he replied. "I have been raised by my master Drekkych in Skavenblight. I live in secret here, and work for him. I have never been to the surface.. least not since I was brought here. Master says I was to be sacrificed as a child. But he found me.. and brought me here."

"That makes no sense at all," she said. "What would a Skaven want with a Druchii? What kind of work do you do for him..?" she asked, expecting nothing good.

"Master has taught me to be an efficient killer. I have slain many of his rivals in his name," he spoke proudly, stepping again fully into the light.

She looked disappointed, knowing now that he was a ruthless killer, but felt a great deal of pity for the young elf. She could sense something strange about him, that he had never really been tainted with the terrible evil of the Druchii, and he had somehow remained sane surrounded by the barbarism of the Skaven. Perhaps, she wondered, killing the inherently evil Skaven might not make another inherently evil...

"You are like no Druchii I have ever seen.." she spoke.

"How are you and I so different?" he asked sympathetically, stepping forward.

She scoffed at this, shaking her head and looking to the floor. She offered no answer as the thought of it seemed to pain her.

Vaelance continued. "All I know of my kind, and my life before, is that I was left for dead by my family. They branded my name on my chest and cast me out. I share no sympathies with them."

She looked at him inquisitively. "Do you know your heritage, Vaelance?"

"I suppose I am Vaelance of Draechifel, so this brand I bear reads. I know nothing of my heritage."

She froze at the sound of his name, and the realization swept over her instantaneously.

"You are the lost son of Lord Vincentis Draechifel. From the cursed city of Har Ganeth," she looked like she was going to be sick. "Our people have been waging a war against Har Ganeth for countless years. I was enlisted to seek the help of the Brettonian's against them. Already we have suffered horrific losses at their hands.. and the atrocities that they commit there are too numerous, and terrible to speak of. Vincentis has recently struck an accord with them. Although the male sorcerer is forbidden by the Druchii, he and his followers have been allowed to live for now and incite terror in the surrounding lands. Together, the Executioners of Har Ganeth and their new sorcerous allies wield unimaginable power. The walls of Har Ganeth now extend to your father's stronghold." She could sense his intrigue, that he longed to know from where he came. She began to recite a passage from a dark text that she had learned.

"The very name of Har Ganeth is cursed with evil. In Ulthuan none will even speak of the city which they call only the cursed place, whilst to the Dark Elves it is the city of the executioners.

The High Elves brought battle to Har Ganeth and attacked the city with as great an army as had ever fought in the Witch King's... Malekith's land. For many days and nights the battle raged and at last the High Elves were driven from the field. Many fell as they turned to flee, yet many more were taken captive. Too exhausted to fight on they collapsed and woke to find themselves upon the altars of Khaine. The celebration of the Dark Elves was a terrible thing to behold. Captive after captive was brought to the altars and slain in the most cruel ways imaginable. The screams of the dying mingled with the shallow laughter of the Witch Elves as they danced naked about the bodies of the slain. Wine and blood flowed from the altars, and drunkenly the Dark Elves praised their evil god. For many nights the sacrificial fires burned and the Dark Elves feasted upon raw flesh. It was a madness of death and when it was over the sun rose upon a city stained red with blood.

Blood fountained from the windows of the high citadel and ran down the streets like a river. Crimson gore spattered the temples of Khaine and stained his brazen idols. The steps of his temples were littered with the dismembered corpses of the slain. Everywhere lay Dark Elves entwined and covered in blood, stupified with wine and gorged upon raw flesh, sated upon the horrors of their own inhuman depravity. Har Ganeth is the city of executioners. To those who retain a shred of decency it is known only as the cursed place." (1)

Vaelance felt a lingering familiarity when she spoke of the dark elves God, Khaine, but said nothing about it. He tried to picture his ancestors, and this Witch King, Malekith. The way she spoke of them was not at all what he had wanted to believe of his people. He had read nothing of the Druchii, and although he knew some of his father's wickedness, he had hoped his people were nobles of honor.

"Our kinds are at war," Vaelance spoke, uncomfortable with the idea that his people would attempt to harm something so beautiful. "You speak with only hatred of mine."

Again she scoffed. "You really have no idea, do you."

"Surely our kinds commit similiar atrocities," he guessed.

She thought for a moment. "Perhaps.. but it is your kind that enjoys the suffering."

Vaelance didn't understand. "I am sorry, I am just now learning anything about them."

"Perhaps there is hope for you then," she spoke. She used her ailing strength to pull herself from the floor. She walked slowly, showing the signs of her abuse as she stumbled towards Vaelance. "Please.. don't let them feed me to those creatures. I beg of you to offer me your protection."

Vaelance extended his right arm to her and caught her shoulder, balancing her.

"I swear to you, on my life, that I will protect you."

For a while their eyes locked with eachother, and he held her there gently with his strong hand. She saw a light beyond the glow of his eyes, and this seemed to comfort her.

"I am so very tired.. I have not slept well for such a long time... I feel as if it is finally safe to close my eyes for a moment," she said as she was growing visibly tired.

Vaelance led her to his cot and set her down. She lay back and looked over him once more in search of a trust. She seemed to find it, and laying on a comfortable surface for the first time she could remember, with her eyes heavy, she quickly dozed into dream. For a long while Vaelance sat by the edge of the cot and watched over her, entranced by her beauty. Eventually he grew tired again, having been interrupted earlier in his sleep, and fell asleep on the floor beside her.