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Taranis Thilandrae
A discipline of the pure moonlight, a Priest of Saedron
Eccelene of House Gilliandor
I
am Taranis Thilandrae, an Elf of the Dar Khelegur, purest of the Elven People. I
have chosen the path of ancient arts and studies nearly lost in the chaos of the
Turning.
I
am a rather quiet individual and I seem to most a dark and mysterious one. I am
comfortable with all Elves, even Aelfborn. I also bear an odd sort of respect
for the Centaur, Dwarves, and even Aracoix, all due to their noble and
honourable nature. But the remaining races I despise for their lack of wisdom,
reason, and honour.
I
was born in the Northlands but raised in the forest, and hold both a love for
the forest and the night as well as an undying hatred for the Sun. Its harsh
light causes me pain. In my eyes,
the night is the ultimate beauty and the forest is the ultimate sanctuary.
My
father, Aurin Thilandrae, a Dar Khelegur, was taken prisoner in a Sidhe dungeon
during a brief war between the Dar Khelegur and the Twathedellion. He had been
accused of infiltrating a Sidhe library in search of a dangerous spell. A Sidhe
lass by the name of Saeryn Rith took pity on him and aided him in his escape.
They ran deep into the forest where they would not be found and as a result, I
was born.
Upon
attempting to return to Elven society, when the war had ended and peace between
the two majour Elven People reigned, my father was executed by the Dar Khelegur
in suspicion of brainwash from his Sidhe spouse. My mother ran with me to the
Twathedellion, who were quick to execute her in suspicion of kidnapping the very
Dar Khelegur-looking infant. Me.
Thus,
I was taken into the life of the forest.
At
the age of fourteen yen--two thousand sixteen years, I believe--I left the
forest in search of my true home. I knew naught of my lineage at the time, and
naught about the Dar Khelegur. The Twathedellion had deliberately kept all
information regarding them from me. I ran from the forests, looking down to my
white hands, white as alabaster. White as the purest snow. I did not know snow.
Within
months, I did, indeed.
I
saw before me a land of tall, white mountains and solid iced plains. The image
that gathered before my eyes was stunning. Elegant Elven towers of the most
beautiful stones and decorated with the most striking gems. A frosty wind blew
round and stirred the fine snow round the towers, the dust of crystals sparkling
like a thousand stars.
I
was home.
The
image faded and what I saw was the truth, ugly as the harsh Sun. I saw nothing
but the ruins of what had been.
It
was then that I wept. It was then that I realized I never had before.
It
was then I went mad.
I
spun round on my heals and wailed a curse at the night sky. I felt the anger,
the loneliness, the madness building within me. I shot my gaze back to the
ground.
The
earth stirred.
I
blinked suddenly. The snow swirled where I had gazed and spiraled into the
darkness. A shadow had appeared there. A vague silhouette of lithe Elven form,
though taller and ethereal. Sidhe! It simply stared at me for a moment as I
stared back at it.
It
turned and drifted into the night with the snow.
Though I did not yet realize it, as the air had become a shadow of my Sidhe blood,
I had become a Shadow of the Moon.