I had questions piling up and even at some point, begins doubting the meaning of my own lies. But now, I only have answers. A dozen of elves against humanity. Not all of humanity, but to my people, this is what it seems like.
I can sense their dread, and desire to fall in battle. These old elves want to give up their lives as some form of repentance for their failure. We are a dozen strong and that is including Trudviar and Zeraya.
Well, we number 13 elves to be exact, but I don't count myself as someone who can even contribute to a fight. The last time I had training with a bow is like 40 years ago. I don't even know where to begin with the sword except mindlessly swinging it.
I observe my elf kin.
The blind Varen doesn't show it, but he is nervous. He is young and is about my age. The old elves surround him and comfort him of the possible battle ahead. I can even hear some whispering trying to convince him not to partake.
The elderly elves a mixture of grandpas and grandmas hold themselves steady. They shouldn't be fighting my war, but instead are resting in their coves with their family. I see their old weathered skin and the overly too-familiar wrinkles of old age that resemble the roots of trees.
The adventurer and half-elf Zeraya stays by my side brooding but alert. She takes her job seriously in deference to her liege, me, who has nothing better to do than look around. I shouldn't bother her lest I get myself into trouble. It is good to know though that she is always battle ready.
The warrior and the man I affectionately refer to as uncle has gone ahead of us volunteering himself as a scout. Trudviar has a tendency to overcompensate for what he lacks. It is just getting worse lately ever since the raid, but I cannot blame him as a father's wrath is not something I can easily meddle with.
At the periphery of the forest, I see the wide green plains ahead of us. Just beyond this are the human settlements. I had my fellow elf kin bring the armor of the dead raiders. I also make sure that my elves equip themselves with iron weapons.
I don't know about their proficiency, and Trudviar is trying his best to give them pointers. If it comes to it, I'd rather not have my fellow elves engage in personal combat.
For war, it is not always necessary to draw swords, and do battle.
There are other methods by which you can attain victory.
Of course, I didn't mean to win diplomatically. There is no way blood wouldn't spill. I will make humanity bleed.
Trudviar returns in his unchanging light steps. He moves like a gale which makes him the perfect scout. He reminds me of the runners in ancient Greece who delivers news from army to army. But Trudviar is not simply that. On top of his agile footwork, he is also quite a warrior.
"I already have a lay of the land. It looks like there is an independent village ahead of us… They don't seem to be farmers though." Trudviar holds a man's head and drops it in front of me. "According to him, they are a bandit settlement coming from the two baronies…"
I nod at his news. I look at the horrified face of the dead human. Trudviar's brutality is acceptable. No, it is a necessity. I should erase my pretense of me being human once. I am now an elf— I strongly remind myself of this truth.
Trudviar adds a quick explanation to his rather hasty maneuver. "He was violating a dead elf, and he is some distance from the bandit settlement… I just had to…"
My fellow elves overhear this and cause fairly a commotion. Voices of anger, disgust, and hate echo from them. Even the blind Varen who is usually stoic shows a face of contempt. I let them stew on these emotions in the meanwhile.
I inspect the head. "Trudviar, did you kill him in one blow?"
"No," Trudviar answers. "I made him suffer."
I nod in approval, my face is in a state of apathy. Truthfully, however, I carefully hide my real emotions. This is what comes, and there will be more in the future.
"Hear me," I call to my fellow elves, and I was able to quickly get their attention. "We find ourselves a convenient prey. The human bandits share little connection to the human world as a whole. If we rid of them, no one would even find out that it was elves who did it."
I show them a confident smile and steel my resolve.
"We leave no survivors behind. We shall kill every human we find. There will be no mercy. I order you, your king, to wear the armor of the dead raiders, and tonight, we strike."
According to Trudviar, the bandits number roughly 30. There also appear to be captive elves. They must be stragglers since the raid. I recall the human raid being quick and sudden. It was in the deep of the night which just adds to the confusion of the panicking elves.
The bandit settlement takes advantage of this and was able to get themselves some elves who they can put into slavery. Trudviar is not sure how many captive elves are there, but this is a breaking point for us.
In the dead of the night, we elves make our move.
"Stay here…" Holding my arm is Trudviar. "You don't need to fight. You don't need to force yourself."
In my youth, I remember Trudviar as a nice neighbor who has this positive aura on him. In his marriage, I recall celebrating with the whole village in merriment. I know Trudviar for a long time, and that is the same for Trudviar to me.
Trudviar knows I am not a fighter.
But I need to learn how to fight. I might be putting myself in needless danger, but this is necessary for my growth. I cannot be a warrior like him, but I can at least try learning how to defend myself at the bare minimum.
Coming to my rescue is Zeraya, her palm over Trudviar's arm, she cajoles him to let me do what I want. "The King may do as he wishes… Moreover, I shall stay by his side to protect him…"
Trudviar reluctantly lets go of my arm.
I raise a plan to my fellow elves and none objects. I would prefer that there is someone who would, but that is too much wishful thinking. I can only think of taking the initiative, as that is what leaders do.
I had my fair share of Real-Time-Strategy games or any of the genre that goes with it, and I am equally just as accomplished in playing chess, but that doesn't make a general.
Trudviar's and Zeraya's opinion on the matter helps me on finalizing our plan.
The plan is simple, and I was able to narrow it down to two objectives— assassination and extraction.
The bandits are a sloppy bunch, and they seem to not have any habits of placing a sentry to keep watch. Trudviar can attest to this.
I plan to invest a third of our forces into storming the bandit boss's lair. Trudviar in his scouting report did mention he was able to catch a whiff of rum. Chances are the bandits had a good haul and are in a celebratory mood.
If we catch them drunk, then better.
While Trudviar is busy assassinating the bandit boss with his heroic band of elves, I, Zeraya, and Varen will be busy rescuing the captive elves.
With Varen's excellent hearing courtesy of his blindness, he is the best scout I can ask for.
I am just here as the extra muscle. As insurance, I make my elf kin carry a second iron weapon of their choosing from the dead raiders. I gather their extra iron weapons and put them in a makeshift sack. They are heavy, but I can manage them just fine.
Zeraya is the real muscle here. She will be our final resort if a fight occurs. She will be solely responsible for taking down lone enemies which she seems to specialize in since her adventuring work kind of involves shady work.
If we do succeed in infiltrating and getting to the captive elves, I plan to convince them to fight for me. After I distribute the iron weapons, we will clean the settlement of what remains of the bandits.
I brief my elf kin succinctly but informatively.
Signaling the start of the night raid is my prayer. "The Fae above guide us… For what we are about to do is noble, and what we wish to achieve is sacred. We shall exterminate evil and save our kin, and we shall succeed for fate guide us with its invisible hands… To the Fae above, we offer these sacrifices… As for tonight, we hunt…"