Therenia

Therenia, the Soulbell Sea of Trees. Beneath the gentle moonlight, flora of every kind shimmered with a silver glow. Strands of branches, drifting through the air like translucent threads of silk, conjured phantasms of memory whenever brushed against. When the wind stirred, crystal bells suspended from the boughs rang out the melodies the departed had loved most in life. Here lay the tomb of the silver moon elves. When an elf's long life drew to its close, they willingly surrendered themselves to the Soulbell Sea of Trees, returning their flesh to the Sacred Tree while their souls returned to Sehanine, the Moon Goddess. It was also one of the rare places offering direct passage to the heart of the elven Sacred Tree—the Velanthe Court. The elven queen, Catherine, and her followers stood upon the outer rim of the Soulbell Sea of Trees, preparing to march upon the Sacred Tree, seize the Velanthe Court, and reclaim rule over Therenia. With her scepter, Catherine wove the branches of the Sacred Tree into a secluded sanctuary, serving as their covert staging ground. At this moment, the elven queen wore light silver armor and a crown, seated with regal grace upon the back of a pure-white unicorn as her gaze swept over her soldiers. The royal guards standing with the queen numbered over a thousand, known as the legion of Silvermoon Followers. Composed entirely of classed individuals, this force was Catherine's foremost elite and the greatest pillar of her sacred coup. These elves were likewise clad in light armor, wielding longbows, silver swords, or staves, and mounted upon horses, stags, and other graceful, spiritual beasts. Whenever they looked toward Catherine, their eyes shone with admiration, trust, and loyalty. In the hearts of the Silvermoon Followers, Her Majesty was gentle and kind, yet unwavering in her resolve. They firmly believed Catherine would triumph in the looming conflict, reclaim her long-lost power, become the true ruler of Therenia, and lead them toward a glorious future. "We will be victorious..." Catherine lifted her head, gazing at the colossal tree blotting out the sky in the distance. Caressing the crescent pendant on her breast, she murmured, "By the great Guardian of Life, the Moon Goddess Sehanine, I swear in the name of Catherine Moonchaser that Therenia shall... be set right once more." Just then, the half-elf Rhea strode forward, saying in a low voice, "Your Majesty, the Harpers' reinforcements have arrived, but they were ambushed on the way by an unknown enemy and suffered grievous losses." Catherine's expression shifted drastically. Her brows knitted as she leaned forward. "What? Bring them in at once." "Yes, Your Majesty." Soon, the branches parted like living things, clearing a path. A party of nearly a hundred appeared before the elves—mostly humans, along with half-elves, halflings, and gnomes. Many in their ranks were grievously wounded, their breaths faint as they groaned in agony. Seeing this, Catherine waved her scepter and chanted an ancient elven incantation. The translucent, thread-like branches began to emit a soft glow, releasing pure energy that enveloped the wounded Harpers and steadily healed them. Leading the Harpers was a human woman in her forties. Slender of frame, she wore a tattered dark green cloak and carried a slender wooden bow across her back. Blood stained her abdomen crimson, bearing the mark of an arrow wound. "Are you... Lady Melisandre?" Catherine's voice carried a hint of surprise. Melisandre Wildpath, legendary ranger, known to many as the "Night Wind Whisperer." Over a decade ago, Melisandre had infiltrated a heavily fortified palace alone with only her longbow and assassinated a king who worshiped an evil god, winning widespread renown. Yet now... This celebrated legendary ranger was grievously injured! "It is I, Your Majesty Catherine." The woman pulled back her hood. Pale and solemn, she looked at the elven queen. "Those enemies are like wicked green dragons—treacherous and cunning. "They disguised themselves as your royal guards and shamelessly ambushed us the moment our vigilance wavered. We lost over a hundred lives on the outer edges of the Elven Forest." "Despicable," Rhea said coldly, then pressed further, "How did you manage to escape here?" Melisandre replied, "I struck down over fifty foes, then tore open a passage to the Ethereal Plane, shaking off our pursuers for a time..." "Ugh—" Melisandre clutched her abdomen and coughed up a mouthful of blood. Catherine stepped forward and closely inspected the wound, only to discover in horror that the flesh around it was blackening rapidly, foul and festering, exuding a palpable aura of evil. "This is... drow poison, and some unknown dark curse?" The elf's brows drew together, her expression turning grave. "Such venomous malice—they truly are in league with those fallen wretches! "Lady Melisandre, please relax. I will neutralize the venom and lift the curse at once." Catherine raised her scepter and chanted in the ancient elven tongue. A soothing radiance bathed the ranger, causing plumes of black smoke to hiss and billow from the wound. Yet then, the black smoke coalesced into a hideous face, letting out an eerie laugh. "Found... you..." Beside her, Rhea's expression changed instantly. Her hand snapped to the hilt of the sword at her waist, her voice frantic: "Not good, Your Majesty! The enemy deliberately let our Harper allies escape! "They used them to track down our location! "Quickly! All forces, prepare for battle!" In an instant, every Silvermoon Follower drew their silver sword or nocked an arrow, forming an impenetrable wall to shield Catherine as they peered warily into the surroundings. Melisandre looked toward the elven queen, filled with remorse. "Forgive us, Your Majesty Catherine. I never imagined we would drag you into danger." "This is not the Harpers' fault. I am already deeply grateful that you sent aid," Catherine answered. Melisandre wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, took the longbow from her back, and fixed her sharp gaze on the distance. "Your Majesty Catherine, please grant me a chance to make amends." "Of course," Catherine replied solemnly. Tension saturated the air. Just then, a raspy, deep voice came from afar, sending a chill down everyone's spines. "Your Majesty Catherine, you could have resided in your magnificent palace, enjoying a tranquil and splendid life—why must you be so ungrateful and instigate a rebellion?" A male elf clad in robes emerged from the shadows. Dressed in white and holding a mithral staff, his features were fair and delicate like any other elf's, yet his eyes held a sinister glint. The moment he appeared, hundreds of elven archers drew their bows, and dozens of druids, wizards, and clerics readied their spells, targeting the unexpected visitor. "Elder Therian..." Catherine ground her teeth, saying coldly, "Am I supposed to stand by and watch you drag our people into the Abyss, reducing them to trophies for the Spider Queen?" "You will not even call me uncle." Therian shook his head with a sigh. "Little Catherine, you understand nothing. You are merely a flower reared in a greenhouse; how could you fathom the elders' painstaking intentions? "Without our tireless scheming, Therenia would have long since been carved up by outside powers. This is your final chance: return to the royal court, disband your guards, and we may yet discuss terms. The elders would not mind replacing you with a more obedient queen, Your Majesty Catherine." "I have nothing to discuss with you. You are already... beyond salvation." With a face like frost, Catherine raised her elven scepter and commanded, "Attack! For Therenia!" In an instant, countless arrows trailing silver light rained toward Therian like a tempest, accompanied by fireballs, ice blades, and lightning that converged into a terrifying elemental storm. Yet Therian stood motionless. "Ungrateful child," he muttered darkly. "In that case, do not blame us for showing no mercy..." Therian raised his mithral staff. Black light expanded into an enormous orb, cocooning him within; every arrow and spell was repelled by the black sphere. He sneered viciously and waved his hand. "Blades of the Sacred Court, advance! Slaughter these rebels who dare conspire with outside foes!" Clashing metal and heavy, measured footsteps resounded. Within moments, thousands of armored elven soldiers stepped forth from the darkness, gripping longswords and greatshields as they completely surrounded Catherine and her force. Unlike ordinary silver moon elves, the fair skin of these warriors was marred by pitch-black fractures, looking as though it were on the verge of shattering. "Blasphemers! You are not worthy of that name!" Catherine shouted in fury. The Blades of the Sacred Court. This had once been an order dedicated solely to guarding the roots of the Sacred Tree. Ancient runes of purification were engraved upon their armor, and their blades could sever corrupting energies. Yet now, the proud title was held by a horde of corrupted degenerates, filling Catherine's heart with wrenching anguish. "Your Majesty Catherine, why must you rebel?" Therian merely laughed disdainfully and said coldly, "Face reality. We are the true masters of Therenia, and you... are nothing. "Kill them all! "Purge the rebels! For Therenia!" The elven soldiers of the Blades of the Sacred Court roared in fury. Countless pitch-black arrows soared from their rear ranks, darkening the sky as they rained down upon Catherine's position. Each arrow was dipped in drow venom. Once it pierced flesh, within mere seconds the victim would bleed from all seven apertures and perish from a bursting body. Only powerful classed individuals like Melisandre could endure such poison and hold out for any length of time. "Watch out!" "The arrows are poisoned!" In mere moments, over a dozen elven warriors spat black-red tainted blood, collapsing one after another with agonizing groans. "Despicable cowards!" Catherine raised her scepter high. Silver radiance coalesced into a colossal shield across the sky, deflecting the dense storm of poisoned arrows. "Your Majesty!" Melisandre wove through the battlefield, releasing a barrage of arrows empowered with immense force that punched through shields and took down fallen elven soldiers one after another. "Charge! Kill them quickly!" "The supreme Mother Goddess watches over us!" The elves of the Blades of the Sacred Court surged forward in a swarm. Armored and bearing greatshields, they pressed ahead like a flood in a ferocious charge. "Shameless cultists." Rhea let out a cold snort and lunged forward, sweeping her silver sword through the air with a flash of twilight radiance. Whoosh— A blade of light tens of meters long swept outward, instantly slicing the foremost fallen elves in half at the waist, cleaving even their massive shields neatly in two with flawless cuts. "It's the Twilight Blade! A troublesome one—take her down first!" In the distance, fallen elven wizards raised their staves and chanted in low tones, radiating malevolent pulses as they prepared to cast dark hexes at Rhea. Before Rhea even needed to act, Melisandre lightly bounded off a rock, leaping several meters into the air, and loosed over a dozen arrows in rapid succession. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Amid the rapid flurry of twangs, streaks of light pierced the air and punched clean through the skulls of several wizards, ending their lives on the spot. The remaining wizards scrambled to retaliate, but Melisandre had already vanished into thin air, stepping through the ethereal realm. Catherine channeled divine magic, bathing every ally in the radiant blessing of the Moon Goddess, and declared coldly, "Show these fallen wretches no quarter—kill them all!" Soon, chaos swallowed the battlefield as the Silvermoon Followers clashed with the Blades of the Sacred Court—once of the same kin, now locked in mortal hatred. The Silvermoon Followers were not only fiercely loyal, fighting to the death for Queen Catherine, but were also equipped with superior gear and exceptional martial prowess. Even against the elite legions of Holy Fadlan, they could hold their own. Yet their adversaries were unsettlingly bizarre. The so-called Blades of the Sacred Court were seized with fanatic frenzy; even when struck by blades, their expressions never wavered, as if they felt no pain whatsoever. Once they fell, something even more gruesome occurred. The skin of the elven corpses split open along those dark fissures, and from the discarded husks birthed mucus-covered, half-human, half-spider monstrosities. For a moment, the Silvermoon Followers looked on in horror, some even retching—a revulsion and disgust welling from the depths of their souls. "Wh-what is this? It's crawling out of the corpses!" "Damn it!" "Such hideous monsters!" Catherine stared fixedly at the abominations, murmuring, "Driders... they have sunk this low! "Unforgivable!" Silver light flared in the elven queen's eyes. She raised her scepter, and pillars of silver light cascaded from the heavens, reducing the twisted spider-like monstrosities to ash. Yet the fallen elves swarmed in ever greater numbers, soon swelling past ten thousand—more than ten times Catherine's forces. Even the Silvermoon Followers and the Harpers were strained to their limits. Had it not been for Rhea and Melisandre, two legendary figures, they would have struggled to hold the defensive line at all. Just at this moment of despair, a ferocious roar boomed from afar, echoing across the chaotic battlefield, accompanied by a scorching gale and an overwhelming pressure. "Roar—" People raised their heads one after another, only to behold an imposing golden silhouette appearing in the sky, radiating a hazy brilliance.