Just being a dark elf in Warhammer

Tal Anlek is more of a fortress than a city. It is the greatest fortress in the world, built by Aenarion and Caledor to defend against the demonic armies that once attacked Ulthuan.

The city is surrounded by a massive wall, with twenty spires scattered around it, each like a small castle. Black and silver banners flutter in the wind, the flash of weapons can be seen from time to time, and hundreds of guards patrol the walls.

As the last rays of the sun disappear over the horizon, Anlek emerges quietly like a monster awakened from the dark abyss, and the whole city is shrouded in heavy shadows.

The spires stand out in the night like horns of a monster, twisted and sharp, as if ready to pierce the sky at any time. The towers are like claws around the silent city, guarding the dark secrets hidden within. Every building is like a part of the monster, silent and majestic, exuding a gloomy atmosphere.

A suspension bridge spans between two cliffs, winding out like a spine in the shadows. The shadows move forward silently on the bridge. On both sides of the bridge, flames burn from braziers embedded in the stone walls. The flames lick the air and make slight crackling sounds, which contrasts sharply with the silence around. The scorching heat waves hit their faces, but they can't dispel the thick cold, but add a hint of uneasy restlessness in the air.

This used to be a beacon in the darkness and a fortress of Aenarion. But now the sight of the black granite building makes Aris tremble. Since Morathi usurped the rule of the Archons and the Council left by Malekith, the Anar family has not come to this city for hundreds of years.

Aris looked up at the towering walls on both sides, secretly feeling sorry for the warriors who were destined to attack Anlek. He believed that when Malekith launched the attack, many loyal elves were destined to lose their lives.

Soon, he pushed these worries from his mind, for he knew it was his family's job to ensure the gates were opened and save those warriors from such a bloody fate. After witnessing what happened at Anlek, his resolve grew, and he was proud that House Anar would play such an important role in the war for Nagarythe.

Through the open gates, fires could be seen burning, illuminating the dark stone walls of the side towers and the vaults of the great gatehouse. As he entered the gatehouse, a chill came over him, as if all light had been extinguished. He suppressed the urge to look back, tensing up as the city engulfed him.

Soon after, he stood at the window of the abandoned garrison tower, overlooking Anlek, watching the scenes unfold in the distance. The night was torn by the screams of sacrificial victims and the screaming prayers of fanatics, and flames of different colors broke the darkness, and bloody mobs rampaged through the streets, fighting each other and dragging away those unfortunates to sacrifice to the dark gods.

He was in an abandoned building near the northern wall of the city, where hundreds of soldiers were stationed, but they had long been transferred to the south. Like many places in Anlek, this area was strangely quiet, and fanatical believers tended to gather near the temple in the center of the city. Religious groups compete with each other, and in order to fight for dominance, strength is shown in numbers.

There are some rooms under the tower. After the initial exploration, the Anar family has not entered those rooms again. The bloodstained floors, spiked shackles, broken swords and vicious branding there shocked them. Thinking of the torture suffered by their compatriots, they couldn't help but shudder, and then closed the doors and moved only in the upper areas.

"I never thought we could fall to such a level, especially here, a place that was once full of dignity and glory. Seeing us fall to the current situation..." Eloran walked to Aris and said frustratedly.

"No, Morathi spreads weakness and corruption, but Malekith will bring strength and determination, and the future is still worth fighting for!" Aris responded in a firm tone.

After seeing that his grandfather did not respond to him, he turned his head to look at his grandfather, and he found that his grandfather was smiling and staring at him.

"My child, I am proud of you, and of the House of Anna. Your father will be a great lord of the House, and you will be a fine prince of Nagareth. Whenever I see you, the old painful memories will fade away. It was for people like you that we once fought and bled, not for the fallen who reveled in the city of Aenarion."

"If I can do this, it is because of your example. It is the glorious legacy you left us that inspires me. I feel so proud to call myself a member of the House of Anna that I can't even express it in words. When others faltered and fell into darkness, you remained steadfast and became a pillar of light that everyone followed."

Tears flashed in Eloran's eyes, and then the grandfather and grandson hugged each other, drawing comfort from each other's love, temporarily putting aside the horror of the outside world. After a while, Eloran, who broke free from the embrace, turned his gaze back to the window, and his expression became serious.

"Aris, those who commit these atrocities must be punished, but do not confuse punishment with revenge. Fear, anger, jealousy and hatred fuel these cults and stir up the darkest emotions in all of us. As long as we stick to our ideals, victory will be ours," Eloran said calmly.

Aris spent a sleepless night, keeping watch outside while discussing upcoming events with his father and grandfather. As the rose-colored mist of dawn crept over the horizon and flickered faintly on the stone walls of the city, he joined his father and grandfather in the highest chamber of the spire. In the light of dawn and the torches on the ramparts, they could see many warriors inside the city preparing for the attack.

In Anlek, the day was less dangerous than the night, and the garrison dominated during the day, patrolling the streets to ensure that complete anarchy did not engulf the city, while the cultists who reveled and sacrificed at night rested. The shadows could conceal themselves in the heart of the enemy, hiding from sight and gathering information and food.

It was clear that Morathi controlled the balance of power, pampering the cult enough to retain support, but curbing the cult's excesses enough to ensure that some semblance of order was maintained.

Aris removed his robes and adorned himself with a simple loincloth and red cloak, dressing himself as a Khaine cultist. The streets outside were deserted, and he moved cautiously, sticking close to the wall, toward the city's very center.

The spire of Anlek once stood alone in the center of the city, but over the centuries more buildings had sprung up nearby, each one closer and closer to the palace. These buildings undoubtedly belonged to the rulers of Anlek, but most of the residences were empty when the nobles commanded their armies from the city walls or led their soldiers far south.

He leaped over the garden wall and skimmed over the bubbling fountains as he had jumped from rock to rock on his own hillside, looking for a way into the core. He jumped onto a bare branch near the porch of a mansion, and from here he jumped onto the roof, cutting through an open window, ducking to avoid detection, and running along the slanted tiles of the steep roof.

There was a distance between the gable of the mansion and the wall of the castle, but it didn't prevent him from leaping over the cliff. His fingers grasped the worn stone of the wall, and after a moment's scratching, his bare toes found support. Then he scrambled to the top of the wall like a spider, and after making sure he was undetected, he slipped down the high battlements to the ramparts.

Under the shadow of the rising sun, he climbed up towers and spires, sidling along ledges and climbing up the roofs of the spires until he was far above the city. As he rounded the top of the spire, he basked in the warmth of the sun, and for a moment, all kinds of memories suddenly flashed through him, thinking of him and his mother lying on the lawn, talking about Ashnir.

At that moment, he realized that he had not thought about Ashnir for a long time, and he was so fascinated by what was about to happen that he temporarily forgot about Ashnir. But he had no guilt, he was filled with excitement, because if he succeeded today, Malekith would retake the throne, and Ashnir would no longer be bound to the safe refuge of the mountains.

Driven by various motivations, he looked around for a more stable footing, and then he saw a balcony not far above. With one leap he grasped the curved stone column below the balcony and pulled himself up to an elegant railing.

Just as he was about to move again he froze, hearing a voice that drove him to a stop. He risked a glance into the room and found it empty. Through an archway in the room, however, he saw an inner sanctum, and his heart leaped as a tall figure came into view.

She was tall and stately, with long black hair falling in lazy waves down her back. She was dressed in a robe of purple gauze, the fabric curling like smoke over her fair skin. An eerie shadow hung about her, an almost invisible miasma of darkness that seemed to be full of its own life. In her hands she held an iron staff topped with a strange horned skull, and in her hair a golden crown studded with diamonds and emeralds.

Morathi!

At that moment, Aris' pupils dilated. He was overwhelmed by Morathi's beauty, even though he knew in his heart that Morathi was completely evil. This was the first time he saw Morathi, and Morathi had her back to him, but the curve of her shoulders and hips aroused a desire in his heart that he had never had before. He wanted to immerse himself in her smooth hair and feel the touch of her smooth skin on his fingertips.

But soon, another voice broke the seductive spell, and Aris realized that Morathi was not alone. He could vaguely see a black robe with a bald head and strange patterns on it passing through the archway. He listened carefully, but he still couldn't hear the content of the words. Finally, driven by curiosity, he broke his promise to his father and quietly entered the hall, approaching the witch he hated.

After finding a suitable position, he could see the scene in the central hall more clearly, but the scene in front of him made him take a step back. Behind Morathi, a ball of colorful flames burned, which reminded him of the legend of the flames of Aenarion.

But this thought only stayed in his mind for a moment, because there was no sacred breath in this flame, and the flames were sharp and angular. A half-formed figure was entrenched in the center of the twisted flames, which seemed vague, made of flames but not belonging to flames. It looked like a bird's face, perhaps an eagle, or a vulture, constantly changing between various forms.

"The time is coming!" A low and solemn voice echoed in the hall.

The voice came from the flames and did not sound like Elsalin, but the strange thing was that Aris understood it easily. The sound seemed to come from a language that woven them all together, at once completely recognizable and yet distinct.

"The winding road has many forks," warned another voice, followed by a cackle of laughter.

"I see the end of all paths!" the first voice responded.

"But I don't know when!" a second voice continued.

Aris was confused, and although both voices seemed to come from the burning phantom, the voices had an argumentative tone.

"In exchange, I expect something in return. When I call, you must answer!" Morathi interrupted the argument, her voice as luxurious as her body.

"She made a demand!" squeaked the shrill voice.

"Request?" The deep voice also burst into laughter.

"I am not afraid of you, you came to me. If you want to return without success, I will not stop you. If you want to leave with the purpose of coming here, then you must treat me as an equal partner ”

"equality?"

The sharp sound pierced Aris's ears like sharp thorns, and he suffered from the sound.

"We are equal in all things, and as partners we have made this deal. Always remember, there are things that are beyond your reach and only mortals can do, demons. We bind you in our prisons, If you want to transcend that prison, you must rely on mortal hands to achieve it," Morathi said calmly.

After Aris heard the word devil, a chill of fear ran down his spine, and he had an urge to escape urgently. He was shaking, but his will forced him to suppress his fear and continue listening.

"Always so arrogant! Mortals have imprisoned us? You'd better remember that no prison can hold us forever, and no barrier can completely separate us. Mortals will be reckoned with, oh yes, reckoning!" Sharp The voice said sarcastically.

"Shut up, you stupid old crow! Don't listen to his boring nonsense, Queen of the Elves. Our deal is made, our contract is made. In exchange, you will get what you need."

"I mark this contract with my blood."

After Morathi finished speaking, she pointed to one of the warlocks in the distance. The warlock was instantly overwhelmed by countless small wounds, blood spattered everywhere, and screams echoed in the hall. She threw the still-screaming warlock into the flames, which lit up with a sudden, almost blinding intensity, and a cacophony of laughter echoed off the walls.

"Your destiny has been woven."

When these words were said, the flames flickered again and disappeared, and the hall fell into darkness.

Aris blinked, trying to dispel the spots in his eyes. When he recovered, he realized that Morathi had turned around and was walking towards where he was. In panic, he rushed to the balcony and jumped down. His hands groaned in pain when he grabbed the support. He gritted his teeth and grabbed the stone pillar tightly. He heard the sound of narrow high-heeled boots. There was a soft sound on the stone slab above.

"How funny, I thought he was beyond the flames, it seems my son has finally grown up."

When Morathi spoke again, her voice was almost above Aris's head. When he heard Morathi's voice, a chill spread across his skin.

"Can't you feel it, Your Majesty? The band within his helmet burns with ancient power," a warlock whispered.

"Yes, we will see soon, but does he have the will to harness that power? This is an artifact that existed long before Ulthuan rose from the sea. Be careful, my darlings, or we Everyone will suffer the consequences." Morathi sighed.

"What if he captures this place?"

"Send your envoys to inform others, our agents in the mountains and cities, that one battle cannot decide a war. If he enters Anlek, he will definitely come to me." Morathi said softly.

The footsteps gradually faded away, and Aris let out a sigh of relief. He almost lost control of the uneven stone wall. There were too many things that confused his mind, and there seemed not enough time. Focusing on what was most important, he quickly opened the southern gate to allow Malekith's army to enter the city.

Aris opened his eyes suddenly and stared blankly at the ceiling. In the dim room, a heavy silence filled the air, with only his rapid breathing echoing around. His body was soaked with cold sweat, and the thin quilt clung tightly to his body. The slippery feeling made him feel uncomfortable.

He sat up and rubbed his cheeks with trembling hands, as if he wanted to erase the remnants of the dream from his mind. For some reason, his dreams lately kept going back to those distant times, to the battles of his youth and to his relatives.

The scene in the dream was so real, his grandfather's voice still echoed clearly in his ears, and the warm touch seemed to still remain on his shoulders. However, the reality is cold. He is no longer the young man full of fighting spirit and hope. The world he lives in now has been tempered by time and war to become even more cruel.

Aris sighed and looked out the window. The sky was not completely dark yet, and a faint light shone through the window lattice from the gray sky. He didn't know why these dreams frequently appeared in his mind recently. Maybe it was some kind of omen, or maybe it was the nostalgia for that past deep in his heart.

He stood up, walked to the window, opened it, and the cold morning breeze blew in his face, bringing the chill of winter. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to let the cold wind dispel the confusion in his heart.

But the cold wind did not dispel the confusion in his heart. He turned away from the window and began to tidy up his clothes, ready to welcome a new day.

——

Malekis looked through the window at Nagarond shrouded in lead gray with his hands behind his back. For some reason, he suddenly thought of Aris and the scene when he first met Aris.

That was what happened when he returned to Nagareth. Just as he arranged, the Anar family who received the information sneaked into Anlek and assisted him in opening the south gate of Anlek, allowing his army to drive straight in smoothly.

On the city wall, he was wearing armor and talking with the head of the Anar family, his father's adjutant and flag officer Eloran, and Eloran's son Esriel was beside him. Soon, he turned around, with a smile on his lips, and looked at Aris walking out of the tower.

"Aris, I want you to meet a very special person, this is Prince Malekith." As Esriel said this, he put his arm around his son's shoulders and pulled Aris closer.

Aris bowed his head instinctively, but his eyes never left his face. He leaned over and took Aris's arm and helped Aris up.

"It is me who should salute, not you. I owe you a favor that cannot be easily repaid." After he finished speaking, he brushed away his cloak, knelt on one knee for a moment, and then stood up.

"Liberate Nagarys, and we will be even." Aris said.

"I will fulfill my part of the promise, and Morathi's tyranny will end today." After Esriel's stern shout was interrupted by his smile and wave, he turned to Aris again, his expression became serious.

"This is the noble Isil, the commander of the Nagarys army and my most trusted lieutenant." Then he called Isil over and introduced Isil to the three people from the Anar family. He could sense that Isil, who nodded in greeting, looked a little uneasy, so he had to pat his adjutant's shoulder to comfort him.

"Excuse me, my mother is waiting for me, and I have a score to settle with her." After a while of politeness, he said without any smile on his face.

"Is it settled?" Malekith, who had broken free from his memories, asked Hirsis, who came over and stopped not far away.

"Your Majesty?" Hirsis was stunned by the question, and he didn't know what Malekith was asking.

"No!" Malekith's voice echoed in the room, breaking the silence around him. He ignored Hirsis, who was in a daze, and continued to think on his own. After a moment of contemplation, he retracted his sight from the window.

Like a moving fortress, he slowly walked to the center of the room and looked around, his orange eyes sharp and unquestionable. The cold air swirled in the middle of the black tower. The walls were embedded with golden candlesticks, and the flames flickered weakly, reflecting the mottled shadows on the stone walls.

"Do you think he will like it here?" Malekith's voice was cold, but with a hint of meaning.

Hirsis stood there, his face slightly nervous, and he could feel the questioning in Malekith's voice. But... Malekith had ordered him to clear the middle and lower areas of the black tower before, without giving him specific instructions, just telling him: Who will use this place in the future, you should know in your heart.

This...

You...

Maybe? At this moment, Hirsis was blessed, maybe he should write a letter to Clarkarond, and let the fleet that was about to depart send it to Asheril.

Malekith ignored Hirsis, he walked slowly to the wall, and gently stroked his fingers on it. The cold stone surface was as cold as his expression at the moment.

"Will he like this arrangement?" He repeated his question in a whisper, as if asking himself.

The wind outside the window whistled and slapped the heavy stone walls, as if to boost the cold atmosphere of this black tower. The tower was filled with cold echoes, and occasionally the sound of the black guards moving came from a distance, enhancing the atmosphere of murder here.

"Not enough, the space is empty, and the void is meaningless, do you understand?" Malekith looked back at Hirsis.

"Your Majesty, I will rearrange these areas." Hirsis's heart tightened, and a trace of cold sweat oozed from his forehead. He knew that this meant that Malekith was not completely satisfied with the arrangement he made. He hesitated for a moment and responded in a low voice.

Malekith nodded and walked slowly towards the hall. His footsteps sounded particularly heavy in the empty space. Every step he took seemed to be thinking about the next chess game. Everything here is like it was thousands of years ago, with a long colonnade hall extending inward from the gate.

There is a huge mosaic pattern on the floor, which is a golden sword blade, with a rainstorm-filled sky as the background. He always remembers this pattern. His father accompanied him here in his childhood.

He remembered that he was lying on the masonry, happily stroking the golden tiles, and his father sat beside him, telling him that this was a dream he had long, long ago, a dream that troubled and encouraged him to fight against the devil.

He remembered that he passed by here when he returned to Nagarys, broke through Anlek, and settled accounts with his mother.

Now...

"Your Majesty!" Aegireth appeared from the darkness and bowed.

"You can withdraw."

"Come to me." After a long time, a voice echoed in the empty hall, but the difference from the last time was that this time it was Malekith who said it, not Morathi.

"You once had the opportunity to possess that sword, but you refused." Morathi's voice came faintly, and her eyes stared at Malekith, as if she had seen through all of Malekith's thoughts and secrets.

"Yes, I refused. And thousands of years ago, we had a similar conversation, my mother. Do you remember? At that time, I was not what I am now." Malekith's voice was calm and full of emotion. A little bit tired and exhausted, but more dissatisfied and questioning.

The passage of time has not diluted this deadlock, but has made the arguments between mother and son seem like an endless cycle.

"Your father was controlled by that sword. It was the embodiment of evil, waiting for its next host. I have always been worried that you would follow in your father's footsteps and become its puppet. But I am very proud that you rejected it. That requires rare courage. No one can truly become its master." Morath paused and her tone became a little more serious. "If you want to rule others, then you must not be a slave to that sword. Evil, it will corrupt you and eat everything you have."

It is a pity that Malekith does not have the ability to predict the future. Otherwise, if he knew what would happen in the next era, he would definitely ridicule what his mother said. Now, he lowered his head slightly and held the hilt of the Yang Yan Sword tightly. The memories of the past came flooding in, bringing with them pain and disappointment.

"But you are now controlled by another sword, my child." A complicated expression appeared on Morathi's face, the mother's care and the ruler's coldness intertwined in her eyes.

Malekith knew what his mother was talking about. She was not referring to the physical sword, but to some deeper bondage.

"Yes, Darkus. You refused the control of the Sword of Kane, but you were inevitably involved in another more covert control. The existence of Darkus is not that kind of rough force. His methods are more subtle and cunning. He doesn't need a sword to control you, he just needs to let you fall into his layout and become part of his plan, and even though you know this, you still have trouble getting rid of it. ." Morathi nodded slightly, her eyes looking straight into Malekith's heart as if she was seeing everything.

Malekith was silent for a moment. Of course he knew the influence of Darkus. He had always known that that invisible force was subtly changing the situation, and even made him inevitably become a stone in the chess game. piece.

"Think about the sword you are holding now. How did you obtain it? How do you know about it?"

"Darkus is indeed well versed in manipulation, but I am not ignorant of his methods. This is a game that I have to participate in. If I want to achieve my goal, I must enter the chess game, right? Otherwise?" Malekith sneered, knowing what his mother was saying and doing.

"Perhaps so, but my child, you must remember that a true ruler will never rely on others. The more you rely on external forces, the easier it will be to be bound. At that time, you will be unable to break free."

"Mother, I have to say that your suspicion and prejudice against Darkus have gone beyond reason. Reason? Yes, reason is a precious thing for you, you have never had it. He is my supporter , He has brought about real changes. Compared to you... I would rather trust a real ally." Malekith's eyes became colder and his voice was low and full of dissatisfaction.

"Do you really think he is your ally? My boy, he is not by your side out of loyalty or friendship. He is a dangerous chess player who does nothing but consolidate his position. , he has no loyalty to you, only use. And you are willing to become his pawn!" Morathi's eyes did not waver, still firm and cold, and the expression on her face seemed to have a touch of contempt.

"He brought strength and change. Compared to your empty words, his actions allowed me to see the future! His arrival turned the situation around and I had a real chance. I need him, just like He needs me too! Besides, who else can I trust? You? My mother?" Anger gradually ignited in Malekith's heart, but it would be okay if someone else said this. Coming from his mother's mouth, it seemed particularly harsh and ironic. He gritted his teeth, his voice low and suppressed.

"Can you control him? You are as naive as ever, my child, don't you understand? Darkus is not your tool, he is manipulating you, pushing you little by little towards the path he designed. Maybe you I feel that he has brought about changes, but those changes are not from your will, but from the chess game he has already arranged. You are just one of the chess pieces, but you are unaware of it." Morathi smiled coldly. With disdain and compassion.

"Enough! I've had enough of your doubts and slanders! You will never see my efforts, you will never feel that I am not good enough, and you will never feel that I am not doing the right thing! But the reality is, Darkus made me see Hope, but you will only bring me confusion and endless doubts about the past, present, and future!" Malekith's anger was completely ignited, and he stepped forward suddenly, his tone full of suppressed anger.

"My child, I just want you to see the truth. You think you are in control, but in fact you are being controlled. Don't forget, your father was the same. He thought he was in control, but he ended up being a slave to Cain. Do you want to repeat his fate?" Morathi did not back down. Facing her son's roar, she remained calm and resolute.

Malekith's chest rose and fell, his orange eyes burned, and his iron hands clenched into fists.

At this moment, he could no longer suppress the anger in his heart. (End of this chapter)