Biracial Edgelord Can't Make Immortal : Power of Ten, Book Seven

BECMI Chapter 232 – A Shadowed History


The tale the King related over the next hour started with excitement and hope, the emergence of the shadenelves basically the revelation of a major tribe of unknown elves and potentially great friends and long-lost cousins of the tribes of the Relarin here. They had announced themselves and been shown directly to King Lymeril, who had been happy to receive them and begin talks with them.

That the shadenelves lived underground both saddened and shocked the Sidhe elves living up here, and they were not opposed to having the tribes of the new shadenelves be returned to the light on the surface.

Then things hit a snag, and then they went roaring over the waterfall and crashed into the jagged rocks downstream.

The shadenelves revealed that their numbers equaled those of the elves of the Relarin, and there was no way the forest could support an instant doubling of the population were the shadenelves to return en masse to the surface.

That was not a minor point, but the very idea of using controlled migration to slowly expand and resettle the Shaden clans over time was met with outright hostility, which seemed very suspicious and was not diplomatic in the slightest. The shadenelves simply would not accept anything but being allowed to return to the surface as they wished in whatever numbers they wished!

On top of that, they had begun immediately demanding full status and control, with political control passing to one of their own given their unity and numbers, versus the scattered and uncommitted clans of the Sidheduiche, along with worship of Gaebrel and the recognition and instating of shadenelf traditions!

It was akin to a nomad tribe wanting to come into your house, occupy half of it, and demanding ownership and control for doing so!

The shadenelves had been incredibly obstinate about their demands, and yet placed all the blame on the surface elves for denying them everything they wanted outright, as if the Sidhe were committing a great sin by just not handing all of the Relarin over to them just because Gaebrel had told them they were entitled to it.

The negotiations had ended in drawn swords and a spot of violence, more out of spite and saber-rattling than any kind of serious attempt to kill anything, and the shadenelves had fled back underground.

Quiet incursions had begun immediately, but even then the elves were unaware of some of the agents the shadenelves were already moving into place, clearly having plans of invasion and infiltration since before the diplomatic meeting that was obviously designed to fail. 'Gelfernador' had been put in place as Lymeril's friend and associate before the shadenelves even made real contact with the Sidhe, for instance.

It was all-around a bad situation, and the elders present, including the very finicky and pedantic librarian elder of the Clan Feirlunl, were all most insistent that the shadenelves had shown extremely bad faith and intent right from the start.

There was even a short war over the whole situation, which I was actually familiar with from a military standpoint, as the war between elven nations had attracted the interest of Prince Drakker von Jaggenfel of House Grafburg of Zanzyr. One of his great military treatises and studies had been involved with analyzing the battles and tactics used by all sides, with commendable scholarship and attention paid to detail.

My own mother had been one of the shadenelf agents sent to the surface world, trying to discern the ties of the Sidhe with their neighbors and allies, and possibly upset them and isolate the Sidhe more. The Sidhe had caught some of them, but had never made a concerted attempt at reprisal, feeling that the Shaden being isolated underground was punishment enough for any elf, and having no desire to make a bad situation worse… while also proving quite welcoming to any Shaden who had a change of heart and truly wanted to immigrate.

---

The tale was mostly done, half-sung and half-told in rolling voices, clearly a ballad or three having been written about the event and its aftermaths. That it took up a lot of time to relate this way was simply a factor of being elves and having to do the job up properly and enjoyably.

I steepled my fingers as General Crimson Sword finished up his recollections of the fighting with the Shaden and the defenses he'd put into place ever since that time. He hadn't been the general of his clan at that time, but he had risen into place since then, truly coming of age during the fighting there.

The joint battle had also involved support from Darokin, and formalized and firmed their alliance and treaty with the local humans. All in all, it had been a good set of battles for the Sidhe, but they proclaimed little glory or pride in it. After all, they'd been forced to face other elves, fanatics to some strange god who had twisted them so, and do battle because of it. It simply wasn't a fine situation to be in, close to a civil war instead of even a righteous defensive one.

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I displayed no sympathy on my face for either side, simply listening to their tales and drawing my own conclusions. There had been a Sim in the area watching, judging the facts and watching the watchers quietly, and everything matched up with what Woodrose had discerned.

Helped having future knowledge so she knew what places to be in to witness important stuff in, although she didn't participate much more than Healing on the side.

"As you might imagine it, that is not how the tales are told to the elves of the Shaden down in the deeps, or at least not to most of the population, Your Majesty, Elders," I informed them from where I was seated on my Disk, molded up into a floating chair that was definitely earning me some interested looks for its utility and morphability. Elves loved clever magical things, after all.

"How do they differ, Lady Edge?" King Lymeril asked immediately, leaning forward from his throne, his blue eyes dancing.

"For one, nothing is said of the conduct of the shadenelves. The gist of it is that we sent you ambassadors in good faith, you refused hospitality to us, your kin, and in a great betrayal of blood and the elven people, you drove the envoys out and back underground."

There was an immediate outcry of the sheer number of lies and blame and everything this represented, which I mostly ignored, my Voice cutting through them easily.

"The day you threw out the envoys is remembered in our calendar as hlosh, a Bad Day. There is great mourning every year for the treachery and sins of our surface kin in denying us a place in the light, and all of the Shaden thus remember dutifully how we were mistreated at the hands of the surface elves, and that if we wish to go to the surface again, we will have to fight for the right and avenge the wrongs done us."

They were elves, and they knew what time and continuous lies could do to good folk being told the wrong story.

"You called yourself a Truthspeaker. I believe you know which account is, ah, less biased, and more correct?" King Lymeril asked calmly.

I nodded slowly. "I thank you for your generosity and willingness to embrace long-lost kin, and I do believe that if you had the resources available you would have allowed more to come. But the requirement of installing a ruler of the royal house of Ershultaen is a clear indicator of what is really going on here."

"Enlighten us, young lady Edge. We would like to know what the normal shadenelves think, not just those lured up to do battle with us, motivated by such lies!" he urged me.

"It is a power play by the noble houses and elites of the Shaden, against the Priesthood of Gaebrel." I considered my words as they waited politely. "You must place things into context. Gaebrel saved my people from a slow, lingering death in the depths of the world. He gave them guidance, wisdom, Healing, and rules to follow, and in doing so they have grown to numbers that rival or exceed your own realm of Sidheduiche here. His tenets and beliefs are as essential to our core and nature as Feirlunl and Corellin are to you… and neither of those powers you names as your great patrons and inspirations are known at all to my people. They went under the ground before the ancestral realm of Sylvuna was founded and the first Lumina Tree was ever planted, and their names and beliefs mean nothing to my kin, as neither existed when Gaebrel was still guiding them to safety in the deeps.

"Gaebrel's Church is dominated by women, but he grants all of His priests true Divine magic, very similar to that of humans. Their Path is a secondary path, in addition to advancing in magic and skill like all other elves. Thus, the Priestesses, with their Clerical magic in addition to the magic of the Warrior or Wizard paths, are in actuality the most personally powerful and formidable of the Shaden.

"They are also unique, for they are marked at birth with the favor of Gaebrel, and thus have singular facial, neck, and shoulder markings."

I displayed a dozen different images of Gaebrel's priests and the purple-pink facial patterns on their pale skin, which all of the elves studied in great fascination.

"If their faith is as great as you say, then why have we never seen such priests in battle?" General Crimson asked warily, eyeing the evolving styles of the robes among the images, indicating a clear hierarchy among them that he failed to recognize.

"Because Gaebrel's power is rooted in stone and earth and the strange energies that permeate the deeps. If His priests come to the surface, the light of the sun will burn away their facial markings, and destroy the soul crystals which are needed to channel the Divine magic through them." I indicated the glittering crystalline symbols each of the images wore, growing larger and increasingly complex with power. "That is the reason you don't see them on the surface. They would lose their power here promptly, and with the removal of their markings, possibly even their positions in the temple, although I believe Gaebrel would still accept them back if they returned to Him, if it is possible.

"Thus, everything that is done on the surface is instead managed by the Ershultaen, the royal family. And it is fairly obvious on consideration of events that the royal family of my people is far closer to a human kingdom in deeds and ambition than is the position here in Sidheduiche. Here, you rule with the consent of your tribes and people, King Lymeril. In the Sternvult, the king is the unquestioned leader of the military and secular matters, but in truth, his position exists at the whim of Gaebrel and His Church. Were the Mothers of the Church to say so, he would be cast out and down, and he is an old king. His time of banishment from Shaden society is coming, and he wishes to be out from under the auspices of Gaebrel's church, and truly a king, beholden to no other."

"Thus they wanted immediate rights to rule," Demonhunter of Clan Longstrider ground out, recognizing the move now. "He wants to rule here as he could not in the depths, and with no Priests to stop him, he feels he could do so!" the famed hunter exclaimed.

"Yes," I agreed with the Clanlord. "He would secure a legacy for himself or his children, who likely have ruling ambitions of their own. Not having to step into the shoes of their father and gaining a free realm of elves on the surface of their own would doubtless be ideal for them."

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