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[color=cadetblue]Time:[/color] Evening/Morning
[color=cadetblue]Location:[/color] A summary of his time leading up to the present and into the woods near Roshmi
[color=cadetblue]Interactions:[/color] Alone

Being lost was a strange and completely unfamiliar experience for Valok. He had never been truly alone, never had the terrifying uncertainty of having to decide things for himself. The entirety of his life up until now had always been decided for him; he always had orders to rely on, someone to tell him what he should do and what he should think. Now there was only him, left alone with his thoughts. At first he thought he liked being alone, he could stare at the stars and there was no one around to bother him or think it strange. But he quickly ran out of pleasant things to think about, and spent hours thinking about what a terrible mistake he had made. He had left his post, he was a deserter. They would never let him back into the army now, once he was caught his life would be over. He knew this was exactly why he wasn’t offered choices, why he just followed orders because the first time he did make a choice, it was to betray everything he’d been taught.

But then at night there was the dream; the torture of the human and of the rebels that Valok had witnessed at Chism, vividly repeating inside his mind whenever he slept. He would stand, watching as he was ordered to, keeping anyone from interfering with what was happening. Occasionally glancing into cold eyes and at the sadistic smile on the face of his commander who inflicted the slow torture. All around him he heard the deafening screams and cries for mercy. Then he watched as his commander's cruel face and empty eyes slowly morphed into his own face, and then his face mimicked the same cold expression. Every night since he deserted he watched himself commit the acts that haunted both his sleeping and his waking mind. 

Valok understood the truth within his dream; this was what the army wished to make of him, a twisted and cruel monster. It was not a question of if, but of how long it would take, just how easy would it be before all humanity left him and he was no different from those who tortured for fun? How many times would it take for him to witness such horror before it became another thing he grew numb to, and how long after that before he too was a willing participant? The visceral feeling of being horrified by acts that could only be described as evil was one of the few things that truly cut through the constant numbness he’d always felt. It had made him feel real in a way he hadn’t for a long time. Impulsively he made the choice to hold on to that feeling, searching for where it would lead him. Every time he woke from the nightmare he was left assured that he had made the right choice, but his resolve would slowly ebb away throughout the day until he faced the nightmare once again. 

He kept choosing to travel south, further and further from his home and everything he had known. The first town he found himself in was small, composed of mainly light elves and demihumans. It was there that he first noticed how the townsfolk watched him, with looks of fear, distrust, and occasionally anger. It was a disconcerting experience, to know that strangers already saw him as something he feared he might become, something already evil. Was he evil? Was that what being a dark elf meant, should he revel in another’s pain like so many of his people did? The townsfolk were afraid of him, he could see it, sensed it like a palpable aura. That feeling, and those glances, remained even after he traded away anything that marked him as having come from the army. He had no answers for the questions he was just beginning to form and only hoped that more clarity would be found if he kept moving south.

Eventually he found himself in one of Avalia’s largest cities, Roshmi. Val found himself struck by the beauty of the city, even at night it felt bright and warm. Even the air had a welcoming smell and freshness to it, and he caught whiffs of unfamiliar foods and spices. The southern races that called Roshmi home walked with a spark in their eyes that was unfamiliar to him, though when their eyes met him, he found the same gilmore of fear. At least in a city as large as Roshmi it was easier to hide. Valok had always found it easy to blend in with shadows, to remain unseen and unnoticed. All it took from him was to remember that he came from nothing, he felt nothing, he was nothing. Then through his dark magic he could become nothing; at least to the average and untrained eye. It was more comfortable to be someone unnoticed, more like how he felt back home, and this was how he travelled through the city until he came upon a strange sight in a town square. 

A bright orb, glowing just as a moon did, broadcasting a message through magic to all the towns folks that gathered close around it. It was as if Halastra, the goddess he was taught to worship above all Elven gods, had guided him here, to this moon like orb. Valok watched, entranced, as a young fairy gave an impassioned message of rebellion. He found himself mesmerized with curiosity; it was not the sort of message he expected, not the words of someone who wanted to see peace end but someone who wanted the world to be better. Her words against the dark elves, spoke to him in a way that eerily reflected his own thoughts and fears about his people and himself.

She had also called dark elves slaves to Aklenroth, and the king himself a mad one. It was jarring to hear someone say such things with such strong conviction when everything he knew told him the opposite. No dark elf he knew was forced to serve Aklenroth, he and all he knew did so willingly, out of loyalty for the only leader that had ever shown his race kindness. While he couldn’t agree with every word she spoke, the whole of her speech resonated with him. This was someone who could help him understand; why the rebels wanted a war in a land that had known peace for so long. This fairy, Risa, was someone who spoke as if dark elf was not synonymous with evil, and as someone who wanted an Avalia that was better for all who inhabited it. Was that what he wanted as well?

He had been taught that it was right to hate the light elves, and all the races who flourished south of Daka, but the why had always been hazy. It had been the light elves alone who had banished his people, and that had been centuries ago. How many light elves still existed old enough to have been responsible? How long should old wounds be allowed to fester before rot set in and nothing remained salvageable? Unlike so many of his kind Valok only felt apathy in place of anger and hate when he thought of light elves, fairies, and demihumans. Perhaps in this his hollowness had been a gift, preventing him from falling into the trap so many of his kind had. He felt no reason to cling to the past, no reason to seek vengeance against creatures he’d never met, at least not without someone telling him that it was what he was supposed to do. He had seen first hand the pain his kind brought to others, and he knew enough to know that was not the kind of elf he wished to be. 

He wondered if Risa’a words were just words, or if they held truth. If he might find the sort of answers he was seeking or a new purpose if he found these rebels. Would the articulate fairy accept a dark elf into her band of rebels? Did he even want to be welcomed amongst rebels? He could see clearly where the dark elves were wrong, where he had been wrong, and the flaws in so many of the things he had been taught, but was that enough to betray his king? It seemed the only way to really know was to try and see. 

Risa’s message ended with a grizzly sight; another fairy, this one dead and covered in thorny vines. A strange way to end a message but it did not seem to be Risa’s doing, and with the energy of the crowd beginning to rise; soon heated words became heated actions. Now would be a poor time for him to get caught by guards. As the city descended into chaos, Val knew it was time to move elsewhere. Though this had once been the ideal place to run into the rebels it was no longer safe for them either. He knew exactly how his kind would likely lock down Roshmi and Valok made his way out of the city before the worst of it happened. 

Another night spent alone in the woods faded into another morning where he awoke cold with sweat from the repeating nightmare. He again set off with nothing but a vague destination in mind, but he figured any rebels who had left Roshmi would be somewhere nearby. Their leader, Risa, had claimed heritage from the River Kingdom and he was sure the dark elves would have that area locked down tight as well, making that location not the ideal direction to head. A more likely option would be for them to head towards the Flower Kingdom, a terrain with plenty of areas to hide rebel camps. If this was the case he might be able to run into rebels near the coast or one of the port towns. The other option was that might head towards the Sun Elves or the smaller demi-human towns even further on, but that was much further and a larger area. So, Valok headed in the direction of the cost, hoping his guess was correct, and if not, well he was a deserter, all his time was borrowed anyhow what did it really matter how he spent it.