As Noah sat in the carriage, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels on cobblestone doing little to soothe his racing mind, his gaze lingered on the unconscious girl lying across from him. Her pale, malnourished face seemed even smaller now that the dirt had been wiped away. The faint rise and fall of her chest was the only sign that life still clung to her frail body.
A dark elf. The weight of what that meant in Elysium settled on Noah's shoulders. His thoughts drifted to the history he had learned about the dark elves, a history that now seemed much more real and painful than it ever had before.
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Mana—the very essence of magic, as ubiquitous in this world as air. In Elysium, mana is everywhere, filling the atmosphere, an invisible current of energy that every mage taps into. But not all mana is the same.
In its purest form, mana is attribute-less, a neutral force that flows freely in nature. But when a person awakens as a mage, the mana within them takes on a distinct attribute, giving them an affinity toward a particular element—fire, water, earth, wind, and so on. This attribute becomes the core of their magic, shaping the spells they cast, and enhancing their affinity with that element.
Fire mages, for example, are naturally gifted in controlling fire. Their spells ignite effortlessly, and their flames are hotter and more destructive. They can still cast spells of other elements, but those are clumsy, and inefficient in comparison. A fire mage trying to control water magic would find it weak and exhausting. So, most mages focused on the element they were most attuned to.
But there were two types of mana that stood apart from the others: light mana and dark mana.
These two attributes were as different as night and day, not just in their elemental properties but in how society viewed them. Light mana was revered, almost holy. Those born with the ability to wield light mana were honored and respected. They were seen as pure, and divine, often serving as priests or protectors of sacred places.
On the other hand, dark mana was everything light mana was not. It was feared, loathed, and despised. Found in graveyards, crypts, and shadowy corners of the world, dark mana had long been associated with death, decay, and evil. Mages who awakened with dark mana were branded as tainted, and unclean. Families disowned their children if they had the misfortune of awakening with dark mana. It didn't matter who they were or what kind of person they could become—society only saw the dark mana and condemned them for it.
In a world where dark mana was so despised, it was evident how would society treat a race who were the embodiment of dark mana.
Dark elves were one of those races.
A race cast out by society. Not just humans, but every other race in Elysium. To the other races, dark elves were walking embodiments of dark mana, cursed from birth. Just like other beings who used dark mana—such as demons, vampires, and ghouls—dark elves were despised, feared, and shunned.
Demons in this world were much different from what is portrayed in other novels, he had read. Demons, despite their association with dark mana, were just another race. They weren't the power-hungry monsters seeking world domination, as Noah had once read in the fantasy stories back on Earth. They were just people trying to live, much like everyone else. Yet, they were always lumped together with the so-called "dark races," cast as enemies, or worse, outcasts.
For the dark elves, their fate was even crueler.
They were still elves, born of the World Tree, just like the more revered, light-affiliated high elves. They were all children of the same source, born from the same ancient, mystical tree that nourished the magic of the elven race. Yet, the normal elves—those attuned to light or elemental mana—had rejected their dark-skinned kin. The high elves, with their arrogance and pride, saw themselves as superior, the chosen children of the World Tree. In their eyes, the dark elves were a mistake, a lesser race, sent by the World Tree to serve them.
The dark elves were treated as slaves by their own kin. Those who refused to submit were exiled from the forests where the World Tree stood, banished from the lands they had once called home. The forests that should have been a sanctuary became forbidden to them. Any dark elf who dared approach the sacred tree was cast out—or worse, enslaved by the very elves who should have been their family.
The dark elves who were exiled from their home, wandered here and there, struggling for survival. Where they sought shelter, they were outcasted. Due to their natural combat talent, they were hunted down by slave traders just to be sold to death arena to fight for their lives. And become entertainment for nobles.
His gaze drifted back to the child across from him. She looked so small, so fragile as if the weight of the world had already crushed her spirit. Her life had probably been one of endless suffering—hunger, violence, fear. A life where she was hated for something she couldn't even control.
This child, this dark elf girl, must have been separated from her family if she even had one left. Noah wondered if her parents had been exiled or enslaved. Maybe she had been abandoned, left to fend for herself in a world that would rather see her dead than alive. And here she was, barely clinging to life after being beaten for simply trying to survive.
As the carriage rolled on, the scenes of her suffering replayed in Noah's mind. The shopkeeper's sneer, the crowd's indifference, the guards' disinterest—no one had cared that a little girl was dying in front of them. No one had lifted a finger to help her.
It made Noah's stomach turn. How could these people just stand by and watch as an innocent child was beaten within an inch of her life? Just because she was a dark elf?
He thought of his old life, the books he used to read, the stories where good always triumphed over evil, where heroes saved the day. This world wasn't like that. There were no heroes here—just people looking out for themselves, turning a blind eye to the suffering of others.
As the sun began to set outside the carriage window, casting long shadows over the town, Noah made a silent vow. If this world was going to be cruel, then he would be the kindness that it lacked.