A thousand years ago, the elven races stood united—for the last time.
The air was still in the Elder Ring.
Five stood in a circle of weathered stone—each a voice of a people, each draped in centuries of pride and power.
From the cliffs that kissed the sky, from the shadows of the sea, from forest, palace, and shade—they came, not in peace, but in uncertainty.
Vaerion Solmaris, King of the High Elves, stepped forward, his voice clipped and cold.
"Maelrik, ruler of shadows, you who called this council of the lords of the elven folk. Why have you called us here?"
Standing before him, shrouded in violet-black, Maelrik Vireth, the Dark Elves ruler, raised his gaze. His voice was measured, slow—as if rehearsed a thousand times.
"We, the Shadows, have perceived. The Sight has shown us."
Doubt flickered in the eyes of the others, as if his words were nothing more than shadows and whispers.
The Sight. That cursed ability the Dark Elves had since the beginning of their people. A gift to behold the not-yet. Not illusion. Not dream. Future.
"Another vision?" Neryssa Tidelorn, Pearl Voice of the Deep, laughed. Her sea-glass eyes slitted. "Last time was enough foolishness. Storms. Betrayal. Blood in the halls of the highborn. And nothing came of it."
Thalanor Greyleaf, ruler of the Wood Elves, said not a word. His silence was no assent—but deep, old worry.
Selira Windborne, ruler of the Winged Elves, stood straight with her kin, wings closed in judgment.
Maelrik's gaze did not waver.
"This vision is worse. A kingdom sundered. Fire devouring the forest. The crown—shattered. Elven blood on elven steel."
The words hung heavy.
"We do not bring destruction," Maelrik continued. "We foresee it. And we beseech you—prepare.".
But that did not matter.
They were already decided upon.
Whisper gave way to accusation. Fears turned to facts. The council, which was meant to unite them, became a knife.
And before the sun set that day, the decree was made.
The Dark Elves were exiled. Sent out of the light. Driven to the dark hells of the earth—to be forgotten, to be feared.
But the Sight remained.
And the future… would never forget.