The Millinas were gone. Leandron stood within the ransacked house. It was big, which told him they had money. Those who had money often had more than home. Such was the disgusting opulence these fairies lived in. “Some food is gone as well.” One of the soldiers reported. The others were searching around but they probably wouldn’t find anything. Leandron marched through the house. All around him cabinets were thrown to the ground to crack them open. From the kitchen, all ceramics were thrown onto the ground. Searching for something. Anything. Jewels were greedily taken by those who found it. This was their first looting and the shine of gold promised at least a full stomach for a few more weeks. In the living room, he found a myriad of paintings. One of those who assumingly lived there. When he compared them with the drawing, he could see it was Risa and probably her parents and her brother. Now that was interesting. What was more interesting were the elder figures in another painting. Unlike the sweet couple with their children, these two were dressed as royals. “Well what do you know. She’s from the old king's blood.” He said as he pulled down the painting to observe it closer. “What a time it must’ve been, to take away their power.” Then, with pure disgust, he threw the frame into the ground. It shattered, the broken wood tore the painting open. He then took the painting of the family and broke the frame open as well, though this time a little more careful so he could take it with him. Knowing how your enemy looks was half the battle. More Dark Elves rummaged through the bedroom, retrieving expensive dresses and coats. When the whole place was pillaged of any and all valuables, Leandron put a torch to it. No-one would live there anymore.

The smoke plume could be still be seen from atop the hilltop on which Leandron stood. Looking down towards the small but vibrant community down in a glade below. It disgusted the dark elf how content they were all were. Probably had enough to eat and drink. He grasped the wet earth below him. So fertile. So full of life. If the forest would be burned down it could feed all of Dakka and more. His people would never suffer hunger on that barren, cold island again. If only Aklenroth would allow it. One thing was a fact though, the fairies didn’t deserve such bounty. They hadn’t bled for it. They hadn’t killed for it. “Prepare for runners. Break bones if you have to.” He commanded as he mounted up again. Two dark elves nodded.

Moments later thunderous hooves came barging down the cobblestone path towards the little tree-named village. People that weren’t outside yet to watch the blackened smoke rise in the sky now came to see what all the noise brought. When the Dark Elven steeds were in view, Leandron could suddenly feel the tension. They were upon the little place within seconds. They dismounted. This was probably the most exciting time for the village in years.

Leandron knocked on the door and Lotus opened up. The Dark Elf asked: “Sycamore?”

“Yes, may I help you sir?” The polite fairy asked.

Leandron didn’t answer. Instead he gave a quick nod towards a bunch of Dark Elves behind him. Who all began to walk passed Lotus and barge in.

Lotus, confused, didn’t move until the fourth Dark Elf tried to pass him. He laid a  hand on the man’s arm. “I’m sorry sirs but what are you exactly-“

He couldn’t finish the sentence. Leandron had knocked the air out of his lungs. Seconds later he could feel the cold grasp of iron. Someone inside screamed. Leandron shouted: “Silence!” People were huddling up. Lotus began to feel weak. As if he was being drained. “In name of the king of you are all under arrest for high treason.” Leandron said and with those words, all hell broke loose.

Women began to scream and try to get out. Outside Dark Elves were waiting at the windows to take them down. Many kicked and screamed as their skin touched the cold iron. Some of the men drew whatever weapons they could.

Leandron could feel control slipping a she counted the people inside. So many. Three of the men were occupying another three Dark Elves. He could see his own kin straining against their orders. “Kill if you must!” He shouted out and his men took instant heed. No longer constraint by their opponents need for survival, they went for the killing blow. A greatsword ripped open the abdomens of one fairy. Inside the house the screaming changed. From frantic defiance to utter horror. Blood splattered on some of the fairies. One of Dionaea’s brothers fell dead on the floor. Another was pushed up against the wall and another Dark Elf pushed his spear through the man. It kept him standing up against the wall as blood flowed from the wound.

Outside several other Dark Elves were going door to door. Those foolish enough to answer as Sycamore were taken where they stood. Others suspiciously denied the name and tried to force the door closed. An axe was the answer. Doors were reduced to splinters. Women and men were dragged through the streets by their hair, clasped into chains and thrown amongst the others. Some fairies managed to get outside, ran and then tried to fly away. When suddenly rope came from below them, tangled their legs yanked them down. Many fell down into the dirt, some into the hard cobblestone below. Once down Dark Elves jumped them. One, to make sure his victim wouldn't fly away again, cut a wing in half. The once calm village descended into pandemonium as children, mothers, and men ran around. Trying to protect each other or themselves. Some died bravely. When all was said and done, Leandron had elven people in chains.

“Some got away.” One soldier said behind him. His rope had torn down a fairy particularly hard. She clutched her shoulder in pain. Leandron just nodded. With so many prisoners to take, some were bound to get away. Besides, they had enough. Then another soldier approached him, clutching his ribs. “Sorry sir. Bastard got me. Killed him though.” Leandron could see the blood wetting the tunic. “You’ll bleed to death.” He noted coldly. Death was a part of reality. Inevitable, really, if you lived in Dakka. The soldier smiled weakly. But then Leandron had an idea. He looked over at the sobbing group of chained fairies. All broken and weakened by the iron. He found the youngest and pulled her away from the group. Much to the protest of her mother and father. They were quickly kicked aside. He dragged her up to his wounded soldier and pushed her against him. Blood smudged her face. “Heal him now.” He ordered.

Instead, she raised her chained wrists. “Please. I don’t feel so good. Please, the iron.” She pleaded with him, weakly.

Leandron slapped her. She felt to the ground. The Dark Elf pulled her back up with her hair. “Heal. Him.” He repeated. “Or I will cut out those pretty eyes of yours."

She swallowed meekly and put her hands on the wound. Pale golden light fell upon the wound and the Dark Elf could suddenly feel his own body mending itself. It was a strange feeling. To know yourself to be dead to suddenly being alive for sure.

“Make sure she finishes the job.” Leandron said to the wounded soldier, as he passed them to go towards the Sycamore’s house. The place was not as rich as the Millinas their home. Still, there was wealthy to be found and the Dark Elves most certainly found it. Like the previous mansion it the place was ransacked. None cared much about the corpses or the blood. When anything of value was taken the house in ruins. Leandron, hoping to find some more clues about those they were searching found nothing. Annoyed that he couldn't return with more, he mounted up again. The Dark Elves headed back. Behind their steeds, they dragged the chained prisoners.

Far away from the Chaos flew Camellia. Trying to find her youngest daughter.