Following the new rule under the Goblin King, the male captives were led across the startling labyrinthine paths through the forests and to the heart of the goblins' domain, where an ominous network of emerald mines lay hidden beneath the earth.
These mines, coveted for their precious emerald gems and resources, had become a mark of the Gryn goblin Tribe's growing power.
Jogund wanted the precious emerald stones, the wealth and the power that came with possessing them all for herself.
The elves were forced into back-breaking labour, their delicate hands now calloused from wielding pickaxes and hammers.
Their skins which were once soft were now as dry as bones under the constant heat that fumed from the mines' burning black and red stones.
The lives they used to live were now a thing of the past and their life currently had become a cruel existence.
The elves toiled endlessly, extracting emeralds from the unyielding rocks under the watchful eyes of their green slavers.
An emerald was once a symbol of growth and prosperity to the elves but that was not it anymore.
The precious glistening green gems now reminded every elf of their painful lives.
A life of unending misery.
The air was thick with dust and despair, and the elves' melodious songs of old had been substituted by mournful laments.
How long were the once valiant and indomitable elves going to live such miserable lives?
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Two years after Valor's death and the Eldarion subjugation, a birth of twins happened in Eldarion.
Two girls were born to Alorn, younger brother to the legendary elven hero, Valor.
Freya and Lysar.
Freya was the older of the twins and Lysar, was the younger.
The sisters endured a life of torment and hardship in the treacherous slave mines due to their mother's persistence to give birth with her husband, Alorn, by her side.
Their mother passed on not longer after she gave birth to Lysar. The slave, Alorn, was faced with the heavy responsibility of raising the two girls after having promised his wife that he would.
For as long as Freya and Lysar could remember, they had toiled under the oppressive rule of the malevolent goblin king, who used their labour to fuel her dark ambitions.
Freya and Lysar, unlike elfkins their age, grew under the dust and despair of the emerald mines with their father, Alorn.
Freya, the older of the twins, possessed a spirit that burned as bright as the stars in the night sky.
Despite the gruelling conditions that surrounded her, she never let go of her hope for freedom, always reassuring Lysar that they would find a way to escape their miserable fate one day.
Lysar, the younger sister, was delicate and reserved.
Lysar found solace in the whispered songs of the forest that were sung by the older elves quietly, often humming tunes that seemed to echo the enchanting melodies of the wondrous forest creatures.
These songs provided the sisters with a small glimmer of hope in their darkest moments.
Alorn grew weaker and weaker, falling to a strange illness.
The girls could not tell if it was the years of unending exhaustion overwhelming their father's body or another thing entirely.
Alorn, at some point, would cough many times in the day, which initially used to be dry but eventually worsened as he started to cough up an ashy mucoid substance that was copious enough to fill a cup.
Alorn knew his time was up and worried for his daughters.
On his deathbed, he called and admonished them, making them promise to always have each other's back.
A few days later, Alorn passed on like many of the elven slaves before him.
And so, the twin sisters had to endure the life that was forced on them until one day.
One fateful evening, twenty-three years later.
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On that fateful evening...
The sun dipped below the horizon.
Freya and Lysar who were loitering about within the mine, after the hectic day's work, noticed a small crack in the cave's wall.
The sisters had never seen this crevice before, and Freya sensed it might lead to a passage out of the mines.
With unwavering determination, she carefully widened the crack with her pickaxe until it was just big enough for them to squeeze through.
Whispering words of encouragement, Freya and Lysar slipped through the narrow opening, their hearts pounding with both excitement and fear.
They finally reached the other end of the tunnel, resurfacing to meet the cool embrace of the night air and find themselves surrounded by the vast expanse of the Emeraldian forest.
Their jaws dropped at the scene. It was beyond what words could describe.
"Woooww!"
The forest welcomed them with its ethereal beauty, lush canopies, and a symphony of rustling leaves.
With the moon's light shining down and guiding them, the sisters embarked on their escape journey, their eyes glittering with newfound hope as they carefully traversed beneath the green watchtower at the border of the mines.
Each step felt like a dance of liberation, and they could not help but marvel at the wonders of the world outside the oppressive mines.
It was their first time seeing beyond the walls of the mines.
As the night progressed, they heard faint footsteps behind them. Fear gripped their tender hearts, fearing pursuit, but it turned out to be another elf — Elon.
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Elon, like them, was an escaping elf slave who was resting in the forest when he heard strange footsteps approaching.
"Freya?" Elon blurted out, shocked. "Lysar?"
The sisters blinked unanimously.
"Elon?" they chorused.
Elon immediately put a finger over his mouth.
"Ssshhh!" he hushed the twins while dragging Freya, who was closest to him, by her bruised wrist.
"Come with me."
Elon was a familiar face to them, the son of their father's late friend and a kind-hearted elf that they grew to like.
He had, putatively, a deep knowledge of the forest, having ventured into it many times and returned to the mines in shackles and bruises.
It was at this moment that they realised why Elon always attempted to get into the forest even if he was captured over and over again.
His experience granted him the skills to navigate the intricate paths of the forest. So, walking through the forest with Elon leading the way brought a sense of safety to Freya and Lysar's daring escape.
Lysar could not help but express her awe as they trod through the vine and root-filled paths. Wondrous creatures crammed the woods but sadly, throughout their lives, all they knew were the green faces of the gruesome goblins.
As if aiding them to escape, fireflies flew ahead of them, illuminating their path. Lysar was awestruck and also in fear as she gripped her sister's arm tightly.
Curious eyes also lurked and glimmered in the dark corners.
With Elon leading the way, the trio made their way deeper into the forest.
They hoped to get far from the clutches of the Goblin King and his troop of goblins before nightfall.
But the deeper they went into the woods, the earlier they were going to realise that the forest did not harbour only wondrous creatures.
For within the innards of the forest echoed growls enough to crush a person's soul.