• *Historians Note*

    The setting for the following story is in a magical realm. The dominant races of this realm are the High Elves and the Highborne.

    Before this realm had come into existence, the Creators molded the fates and decisions of the beings that would dwell there, but when the dragons invaded the lands, the Creators could not stop them from altering time itself. The Creators then placed upon the world an endless fountain of magic, called the Well of Relentlessness for the lesser beings to learn from and preserve peace.

    The High Elves are a proud race, who enjoy nothing more than celebrating their peaceful lives, as well as taking delight in the knowledge that theirs was one of the handfuls of races untainted by spellcasting and magic. The standard High Elf stands seven feet tall, with hair normally ranging from bright blue to a neon green. Their eyes lack pupils, but are instead entirely a soft, glowing silver. The male elf would customarily be clad in colorful tunics, showing off his family pride. The female elf would be dressed in bright robes, depending on her mate’s status in the community.

    The Highborne, a race much unlike the High Elves, depend on magic daily and spend most of their lives practicing it for festivals, and recently, more often than not, to keep the beasts of the forest from advancing any further into their lands. As a whole, they are known to most as a humble and forgiving race, but the few outsiders that know them have seen their tempers go, creating disasters for anyone in the vicinity. The standard Highborne stands six feet tall, with hair colors ranging from black to white, and every grey shade in between. Each Highborne, regardless of gender, are dressed in robes of noble birth, indicating which spellcaster family they were raised by, as well as which magic they are most strongly attuned to.

    The Highborne mostly drew their magic from the Well of Relentlessness, as did another powerful race, the Keldorei. Soon after, the two races brought war upon themselves, but after the war had raged on for three centuries, the Creators intervened, hiding the Well out of reach to most of the races seeking nothing but the power that it truly held inside of it.

    The Well of Relentlessness was soon forgotten by most, but those who still knew of its existence sought its power for preeminence over the lesser races. Minor encounters resulted in death for most of the partakers in search of the endless source of magic. The diminishing total of races still in pursuit was soon reduced to one: Dragons.

    Centuries later, the whereabouts of the Well of Relentlessness was not only publicly classified as unknown, but also was acknowledged rather as a fictitious rumor than historical reality.

    Prologue

    In the dampness of the cave, the silhouette moved with the shadows on the wall, back and forth, from the Well of Relentlessness to a small object wrapped in cloth that it clutched in its hand. The creature worked silently and endlessly, as if perfecting a masterpiece; even when exhaustion finally hit the creature, it only worked harder. Only when the creature stopped moving did it remove the cloth from the object.

    Slowly, the object came into view: a monkey’s paw, not much bigger than that of a mutt. Its maker looked down at it, madness glinting in its eyes, with an adoring smile that a mother would give to a child. “Now now,” it–she–said, lovingly. “Your time will come, of that I can promise.” She covered herself in dark robes and gathered the cloth, wrapping the monkey’s paw once more before she dared to emerge from the cavern.

    The sunlight hit her like a brick wall, and she hissed. She wished she were back in the darkness, alone, but this had to be done now, if not, never. She looked back towards the cave from which she had dwelled for so long and sighed. She walked towards an opening from the small amount of trees she was encircled by, looking around her surroundings and noting any details out of place. Once she was a fair distance in the clearance, she placed the monkey’s paw into a musical box that she had prepared and set it onto the ground, and then proceeded to back away. She gave another long sigh, and then transformed into her true form, ripping away the guise she was forced to use all the months during her creations construction.

    She felt her long slender fingers form into talons, sharper than any knife. Her eyesight heightened, she could see the full distance of the clearing, as well as smell the trees from across the plains. Her facial features morphed, turning increasingly monstrous. Her mouth formed into a long, slender maw, while from her backside spikes shot up out of her, with a scaled tail followed in suit. Once fully altered, she shook her immense body. The black dragon, once again her former self, grasped the small box in her paw, and secured it so that she would not crush it in flight. Her wings started beating, as she rose in the air.

    ‘I wonder,’ the dragonmage thought to herself, ‘whom I will torture first?’ She smiled a toothy smile, reptilian teeth showing through her giant maw, as her insanity led the way to her first victim, her first of many.

    Chapter 1



    Ksayuri tightened the hood around her head, further hiding herself from the others crowding near the outpost. Travelers always came around to check up on news concerning any festivals and celebrations, but today the only news there was to gossip about were dragons. The purple and blue dragons were spotted nearly every month now, and travelers felt it was their duty to rip down every other High Elf’s posting on the news board, just to tell everyone news that they have heard before, yet every time they are captivated. It wasn’t really too much of a concern when either purple or blue dragons are spotted, since the only ones to ever really harm anyone were the green ones, who grew more envious of the Elven folk everyday. Today, however, there was no news about purple or blue dragons, and not a scrap of information on the green flight.

    Today there was a new sighting, a sight never before seen, and as a result feared: the sight of a black dragon.

    Ksayuri hurried along the streets, trying to blend while doing so, and succeeding, albeit dreadfully so. She was nearing the corner; she knew she was almost home. She imagined her house, empty and quiet, where she could take off this hooded robe that she detested so much. She remembered the pile of books she had yet to read, and realized she had to return others to the library. Her stomach growled, and she slowed down a bit as she thought about turning back and getting some food to eat first. She decided against it, for that would mean she would have to show her face. The thought of having to show her face to another of her kind disgusted her, causing her to run faster with a new burst of speed.

    She had not even seen him. He was not there a moment ago, when she was turning, but none of that mattered now. Her hood had fallen off, and she knew that she had to get up. Her silver hair, now in the open, was impossible to hide. She knew they were staring, she knew they were hating her for what she was. Finally, out of anger, she looked up, and stared at them right back.

    Screams, so many screams, yet none of them bothered her anymore. She was just so used to it. Her amber eyes radiated a golden aura under her silver bangs. It was bad enough her hair was abnormally silver, a sign of magic, but her eyes were also bright gold, an omen of a demonic curse. She sighed as she put her hood back on. Soon, a noble-born would come looking for her, and she decided she did not want to be seen twice in one day. She hurried to her home and locked her door, as well as blew out all of the candles, hiding evidence of her existence all too well.

    She sat in her one and only chair, noting the creaking noise as she tried to get comfortable. ‘One of these days it is going to break,’ she thought, trying to distract herself. She had always enjoyed sitting here, thinking of ways to get people to accept her. She never chose to look this way, it was not her fault, yet no one believed her, and many times, it ended with citizens burning her house down. Sometimes she just wished she could make them fear her, enough that she would not have to hide everyday. She wondered if there would be anything wrong with the idea, and when she decided against it, she picked up one of the few magical books she owned.

    She brushed through the pages, looking for the one casting that she had been able to complete once or twice. Once she found it, she calmed her nerves, closed her eyes, and began speaking the musical language that the rest of her race had come to fear so much. Once she was finished, she opened her eyes and noted a portal was in front of her, but it clearly was not working. She began thinking back, wondering if she had made a mistake somewhere along the beginning of her spell. Deep in thought, she had not heard the quieted footsteps outside her door.














    Chapter 2



    Upon landing from her long flight, Sinestria knew that she had grown tired. The dragonmage, back in her human guise had noticed a small house, far away from the large outpost and crowds of people, and figured she would work from there. She walked around a bit, locating the small house while trying to cover her tracks. The moment she saw it, she pulled her robes together to hide herself incase she happened to find an unsuspecting victim. As she walked closer, she suddenly sensed an abundance of magic in the vicinity, and smiled to herself. “Would not it be absolutely delightful if our first prey were to be a novice spellcaster, my dear?” she cooed to the monkey’s paw, affectionately.

    As quietly as she could she stalked toward the house, and when she was near enough, she tried to make enough noise to make it seem as if she was lost. “Pardon me, but is there somebody living here from whom I could draw some water from?” she asked, loud enough to make herself feel impractical. When no answer came from the house, she decided either the caster was either gone, or was hiding, the latter being a grave mistake. She held her hand level to the door and beckoned it forward.


    She walked in, holding her head high, not caring to check for incantations or spell wards that may have been set. The minute she walked in, however, she noted a portal, recently made and traveled by. She could tell the portal was designed for one use only, as the structure was starting to fail. She noted the intricate design used for the portal, and guessed that this portal was not made to escape her, but rather as an experiment. She sighed and moved to sit in the only chair in the room, but decided against it.

    She took out the musical box, which held her beloved creation and set it upon the chair. She then erased any sign of her having been there, and left the house slowly. She would have to find another house from which to work from, but at least she had a victim to work with, a soul to capture.










    Chapter 3


    Ksayuri looked around, checking to make sure the portal would hold up when she went back. The first time she went to the nether realm, she was so surprised at her surroundings that she nearly forgot to breathe. She loved spending time here alone, but she could never stay long. The dangers of the nether realm were immense and bloodcurdling. She read about them in a tome once, but was not sure if the term was accurate until she met one face to face. Mageslayers held true to their name, but she only had seen one once, and that was enough of a threat for a lifetime. She walked through the portal and back into her house, albeit with some uneasiness. Something was amiss. She looked around trying to locate the source of her discomfort when she noticed the small black box on her chair.

    Too enthused to wonder where it came from, the young mage wandered closer to the box, seeing it now for what it was: An elegantly finished wooden music box, however it was missing the winding that would make it play. She picked it up while sitting in her chair, not even bothering to shift herself. She opened it slowly, a look of fascination upon her face. It was an object wrapped in shredded cloth, with an aura of magic surrounding it. She was so clearly fascinated, yet she closed the box. She gathered her newest set of robes and fastened the hood above her head. She grabbed the musical box and set out to the town.

    Velruna housed the only magical shop in any of the High Elf territories, and it just so happened to be within walking distance of Ksayuri’s house. She was there well within half an hour and opened the door abruptly. Velruna looked up, obviously startled, but then nodded to her customer. She got up and went around the counter to see what new and intriguing object her only customer had brought this time. Ksayuri took the robes off and hung them up after she had closed the blinds to the outside world. Ksayuri turned to look towards the one person whom she might actually refer to as a friend, and said, “I might have found something that will intrigue even you, dear Velruna, for the matter of which I have obtained this object is nearly as disturbing as what the object itself may be.”











    Chapter 4



    Velruna looked over the rim of her glasses, locking Ksayuri dead in the eye. “My dear, this...” Velruna tried to say, but could not find the precise words.

    “Horrid things surround the very core of this… thing… I would suggest ridding yourself of this monkey’s paw as soon as possible. As far as I have analyzed it, it is an old, forbidden magic that grants what the soul wants, at the price of the soul itself.”
    Ksayuri looked away, trying to think of any other explanation. Finding none, she glanced at the paw and then resumed glaring at Velruna.

    “It is highly unlikely that anything magical could be so horrid, as you say,” she spat venomously, emphasizing her words. Velruna looked taken aback, but stood up and sighed.

    “Please leave, Ksayuri, but remember, you were warned,” she said, solemnly. Ksayuri eyed her cautiously. Slowly, another thought came into Ksayuri’s head, a thought that was more likely.


    She knew Velruna was lying. There was not a chance in the world this could be evil of any sort; Velruna just wanted her artifact to herself. She quickly leaned over and snatched it from the shopkeeper’s hands. As fast as she could, she wrapped the paw up while trying to keep it steady. She grabbed her robes and hurried out of the store, her silver hair streaming in the sunlight. Gasps surrounded her, but she did not hear them. She ran as if her life was in danger, but slowly a thought formed in her head. ‘My soul wants to be alone, without the High Elven ruining my silence,’ she thought.

    Suddenly, silence filled the air around her, resonating screams in her head. She looked around and saw, or rather did not see her pursuers. She sighed in relief. Suddenly she felt herself empty, but paid no mind to it. Most likely, it was just the unexpected silence affecting her. She resumed the pathway back to her house, but left her newest robe laying in the street, and walking in the daylight for the first time.

    Ksayuri’s silver hair was gleaming in the sunlight, and she noticed just how alluring it looked. Slowing her speed, she tried to elegantly saunter on the pathway. She glanced back towards the trail, finding the lack of people appeasing. She smiled to herself, and continued at her leisurely pace all the way back to her house. She decided that she would use the monkey’s paw, but only until she was no longer a novice spellcaster. She gave a sigh of contentment, and walked inside.



    Chapter 5



    Ksayuri had been living off the monkey’s paw for the past month. The silence that had followed her first wanting had been marvelous. She worked through intricate spells with materials that she never knew of, and learned the history of her heritage through repetition in historical writings. One of her parents had to have been a High Elf, she knew that from the beginning, but she learned that another might have been a Highborne.

    She traveled using her own design of portals, visiting an area that is known to be inhabited by Highborne. She was welcomed by mage and warlock alike, and soon began to increase her dependency on the monkey’s paw. She used it whenever she needed materials for spellcasting; she often strained herself upon the race, forcing them to listen and adore her. She was so enthused by all new sights and sounds of unfamiliar territory that she failed to notice the after effect of obtaining her wants through use of the monkey’s paw: the emptiness that followed.

    She preferred to stay alone still, back at her manor that had once served as her small house, but was now a magically inclined hall that provided bedding for the mage, as well as an observatory for all things magic. She was just finishing a counter spell to counter her previous counter spell, when she realized she had forgotten to eat again.

    She sighed as she stood up, putting down the books she had been writing in. She left the room slowly, hoping she would remember where she left off when she returned. Walking down the hall, she noted how dark it was outside of her manor. Time itself meant nothing to the young mage. She worked when she wanted to, and not a moment more, however many of the greatest mages and wizards withered away from not only over doing their studies, but also forgetting to eat. In due time, she reached her dining hall and cast a quick spell. A rift in the dimension opened, and she reached into the pocket of air and pulled out the box that housed the monkey’s paw. She set the box upon a small slab set aside for it.

    My soul hungers,’ she thought in her head, ‘my soul needs to feast upon food and drinks crafted by only the best.’ At once a table appeared before her with what she claimed her soul hungered for, and she noted it not only brought that which she wanted, but an equally pleasing way to present it. She felt herself become empty, but the emptiness began to feel normal.

    She feasted as a god would, and suddenly desired to be known as such. ‘My soul wants,’ she began, ‘my soul wants to be eleva-’ before she could finish, she doubled over in pain, feeling as if she was burning from the inside out. “My soul!” she yelled aloud. “My soul wishes never to have been elevated from the depth of this soil. Undo the wrath set upon my soul!”

    She lay upon the ground unable to move. Her mind raced, thinking of what could possibly be happening, and if she could cast a spell to fix the situation. Her thoughts slowed involuntarily, as she struggled to make her body move. She felt herself being emptied, as she had numerous times before, but this time it affected her in a way she had never felt. She tried to assess her condition to no avail. Slowly, she felt her mind dulling away, her senses failing her at a time she needed them most.

    She no longer felt what was happening around her, everything was fading into itself, and the last the she saw was the monkey’s paw crawling back into the box from where it came from. “My soul…” she desperately tried to call. ‘Somebody will come, right? Somebody has to come,’ she thought, her own voice ringing in her head.

    Another voice filled her head, speaking the words she forced herself to forget, ‘No one is coming, my dear. You wanted to be alone, did you not?’ She tried to move her body, but it was not responding to her. “Who is there? Show yourself!” she tried to yell, but it barely came out as a whisper. ‘Who am I? Why, I do believe that I am the selfless one that gave your soul what it starved for,’ the unknown voice commented, feigning innocence. Ksayuri slowly realized what the voice wanted; it wanted her soul.



    Chapter 6


    Sinestria smiled to herself. The dragonmage knew it was time to clean up the mess of her prey. She walked back towards the manor, listening incase the mage spoke again. When she arrived, she reverted the house back to its original design as a one-room hut. She opened the deteriorating door and peered inside, eyeing the mage that lay on the floor, lifeless.

    She did not attend to the spellcaster first, for she had another matter that required her attention first. “Oh, my darling, I have returned to you! Come forth,” Sinestria cooed. The monkey’s paw immediately climbed out of the box, crawling towards its maker. “Did you have fun, dear?” she questioned lovingly. The monkey’s paw, in response, clearly having had its excitement, crawled back into the music box. After examining the rest of the house, she looked over the dead mage, eyeing her silver hair enviously. “Lesser races,” she spat at the dead mage, “do not understand some of the gifts they are given. They abuse what is not their right to abuse, and therefore suffer the consequences that follow.” Sinestria noted her amber eyes were still open, glowing softly from beneath her hair. “How fitting. Amber, the color of demon’s magic, on anyone other than a demon itself, is a curse unto other as well as themselves. Who would have guessed that silly tale was true...?”

    The dragonmage leaned over the mage, examining the body. “Hm, yes. This is absolutely splendid,” she whispered to herself. She picked up both the music box and the mage’s body with ease, and left the house. After setting both the box and the body in the verdant clearing, she shifted into her true form. The black dragon, clearly pleased to be back in this appearance, allowed her self a triumphant and euphoric roar. She secured the items she had brought, and flew back to her cave to rest after her long wait for the return of the monkey’s paw.

    In the air, the black dragon felt excitement race through her. Her black scales glistened while she flew, ascending in both height and speed. She felt the wind whip her tail behind her, making her bark a jovial laugh. She felt like a whelping first learning the joys of air.

    Upon nearing her cave, the black dragon circled the forested area before landing. After she had shifted back into her mortal guise, she walked towards her cavern, holding the items she brought with care. Sinestria moved about the defensive traps she had set up, and walked elegantly into the cave. She set the mages body upon an elevated part of the cave, resting her body so that it was sitting up straight, as if it were a lifelike doll.


    She sauntered about the shadowy, damp cave, setting her beloved music box upon its dais. She then removed the monkey’s paw from the box, holding it up to the glowing illumination that was now radiating from the Well of Relentlessness. Examining it closely, she checked for any imperfections that may have come upon her precious creation. Finding no faults, she delicately returned it to the box, and fastened vines around it securely.


    “Yes, this was an absolute success, my love. I trust that you will be able to keep this up. Soon, this world will be purged of the lesser races… After we have eradicated them, we will go after the colored flights. The purple flight will be easy to deal with, as well as the blue. The green dragons might be problematic, but we will deal with that once we have moved everything else into place. Yes… This will work wonderfully… The black flight will soon rise up. I will wipe out all imperfect races…” Sinestria babbled to herself.

    “There will be no opposition, no one will defy me for there will be no one who can hinder me,” she continued, “and then… I will rid the world of the Creators, and become a powerful entity, unstoppable and feared by all. I will be a god…”