[center][h1][b]Xenelith[/b][/h1][/center]
[b]Time:[/b] Morning
[b]Location:[/b] Roshimi City
[b]Interaction with:[/b] Terneus Andros[sub][@Dezuel][/sub]
[hr]
[b]“You seem to be mistaken.”[/b] Xenelith responded with the fakest smile he could summon. [b]“Your peers might call you lord, your subjects might. But these are not the light elf lands. Your blood, your family, your age, your self-proclaimed claimed beauty means nothing to me.”[/b] He explained matter-of-factly. [b]“The only claim that counts is the same that I and my men make as well: servant to Aklenroth. In that we are equal. So I will take my liberty to call you by your name, Terneus.”[/b] He cast one more look at the knights and questioned what sort of warriors they truly were. If they never failed and never got beaten down into the ground, how good could they be? His attention turned towards his own men. He didn’t know them very well but he knew their stories. They were all the same. Taken from a young age. Trained in groups. Given too little to eat so they had to scavenge or steal. If they become too strong they were purposely put against a much older and much stronger opponent. All dark elves had their faces pushed in the cold mud or freezing water at some point in their lives. It made them strong and resilient. His eyes fell back upon the Androsian Knights. If they’ve never known failure then they were never humbled. Never taught how to learn from their mistakes. These knights were given everything and Xenelith despised them for it.

But then his eyes fell back on Terneus. His claims began to ring hollow, like lies or fantasies. Xenelith could try to contest the fact that he never lost but it would like talking against a tree. He took solace in the truth: Terneus had lost a century ago. For a hundred years he has been losing. It was Aklenroth’s mercy that spared his and his kind’s life. What truly drove home just how delusional he was, was his belief that he could make winning a war beautiful. It made Xenelith question if the narcissist actually knew what beauty was. The feeling was not beyond Dark Elves. Many believed the couldn’t understand things like beauty, kindness or happiness. He knew that better than most just how wrong that was.

[indent]His thoughts, for an instant, wandered. A dark force suddenly took hold and pull up a memory. For a moment it flashed through his senses. The could smell the winter wind. He saw the blanket of snow covering the rocks of Dakka and a few barren trees. Halastra hung lonely in the heavens, coating the whole vision in a pinkish glow. And the last fateful words he heard: [i]“I love you.”[/i][/indent]

Pain suddenly swelled up from his heart. Like a ram had charged into his chest. He clutched where his heart should be, feeling it aching. For a moment he could barely breathe. His mind wrenched back control of his memory and buried it deep as he grimaced in pain. As soon as he was overwhelmed he recovered again. The pain lingered but he ignored. Never the less, he realized he had shown weakness.

He would’ve been content to let Terneus pretend he was in control. He could bear the insults and ignore any orders given. But now he had shown weakness, and that just would not do. [b]“Though I must say that your skill is legend, Terneus.”[/b] Xeneltih said as his hand slowly gripped the hilt of his still sheathed blade. [b]“You may not know this but your martial prowess is quite the talk in Dakka. How about a friendly duel. To see if the tales hold up.”[/b]