3,000 years ago.
Luthor Elarion, son of Quazo the obsessed, waited, for his father to come out of his royal chambers, & finally, an old man came, floating around in a magic chair, "Oh you came back from that battle" he said with indifference, "What was it again?".
"The battle of barbarian valley?" Luthor corrected him, "Yeah, I won it just now".
"Congrats son" he said, in not so excited voice, "You're ready for the throne".
"You don't seem happy" Luthor asked, "is there any problem, father".
"Happy" He replied, "I expected that, my son is the hero after all" & the old man floats away with his magically wheelchair thingy.
The state just won a hundred-year war, but still, it felt empty for the young man.
"I don't know why I feel empty" he said, to his maid less therapist.
"Maybe you just need to get laid" the maid commented as she mopped the floor.
"What?" Luthor said, "You know I can execute you for this".
"You won't" The maid, smirked, "Little mushroom".
"Hey, Miss Paliv" he blushed, "That was so many centuries ago".
Basically, Luthor's mother fucking died giving birth to him, the 11th & last child of Quazo the obsessed, so the army general & his mother's best friend, demoted herself to a maid to became his 'mother' of some sorts on the late queen's wish, she fed him her own milk, sang him lullabies, trained him under her wing, making him the man he is now, the man whose credit keep getting eaten by his own father, the King, when sane, was a great adventurer prince, who once reached the garden of Aeron, in his last days of journey, & the goddess told him, "One of your descendant will be the hero of saving" & boom, that lead to him being obsessed over the prophecy, he looked himself inside a room, for decades, painting portraits of it & ripping them when there was absence of perfection, which meant forever.
He had a commoner girl, kidnapped just because she had silver hair & crimson eyes, just cause one chance that a child is born with the hero's features, making her have his 11 children, & die from the last one, the commoner girl was from the same village as Paliv was by the way, but Paliv can't do shit because she was the general of army.
Then when All the siblings were born with the features of the hero, his idea of the great protector, he just sent them all to a stronghold, of Belmung the fiery, a dragon of great heat, because he wanted to see who truly of his blood, is the prophecy hero he worshipped, only Luthor survived, by escaping from the stronghold & that destroyed the already fucked up relations with him & his father.
& the way wasn't far, where finally, Quoazo's madness, his obsession melted his brain, turning him into a walking vegetable, all he can think about is the prophecy, still.
But the long awaited day came.
Paliv ran into Luthor's room, her eyes teary, but not with sorrow.
"The old guy's dead"
Suddenly Luthor felt an ecstasy, a morbid but pleasant one, jolted through his body as the elven young man jumped around with his mad in celebration.
But what ruined the moment of joy, that the old motherfucker died, was what his last words were.
"Protect me, great saviour".
"That bastard" Luthor said, "even in his death he worshipped someone who might not even be born yet".
But he somehow, admired such devotions his father have, he had to admit, his father chooses a god & worshipped him well.
Quoazo's corpse was on the ground, his face paled in blue, there was no life in his eyes, if he even had some of it for the past few decades.
There were not a single piece of rice in his belly, his bones shattered into tiny crumbs that shredded his body from inside, he had a stroke...from witnessing something of his own creation.
After the rituals of the funeral & coronation.
The guards took the new king, Luthor Ellarion son of Quoazo, king of the Elvish kingdom, protector of the Aerion woods & all beings that thrive in them, to his late father's chambers, as it now it belonged to them.
There he saw, a violent beauty, a sight of horror & admiration.
His father's last painting of the hero, it was what he was dreaming off every night, the said dreams that mad him mad decades ago.
There it was, what he was supposed to be according to his father.
He ran out of red, but he used his blood, the photo was in fact a great favourite.
The first portrait of the hero.
"This is" he saw, realising what made his father so much, he would have probably done the same if this sight was in his dreams over again & again, "is the true being".
Paliv, seeing Luthor slowly descending into his father, quickly acted & took down the painting from the wall.
Luthor got hold of himself, "Huh?".
Paliv can't help but say, "What kind of cursed prophecy is this?".
"Is he really even a hero".
But the effect was done, Luthor began to see dreams in his mind, raggedy dreams, the ones that may have haunted his father once.
"I can't" he breaks down, he runs to see the painting, he runs & runs, but he can't find the painting, he really needed the hero, but then he heard noises from behind him.
"You're looking for this" Paliv said, looking at her 'son', with the painting in her hand, "What you grave really, what your father craved or just the craving?" a hint of disappointed was in her tone.
Suddenly the madness was gone, replaced by realisation.
"I was being my father…again" He admitted.
Slap!!.
He grabbed his red burning cheek, even for a woman past her prime, that slap hurted like hell.
But he knew that, he deserved that, if anything else he should be grateful it was just a slap.
But Paliv wasn't mad, it was as if she was stopping the grief coming out of her eyes
"You know" she said, "I loved your mother, I really did". She sat beside him, "we often ran across the fields of grains & corns, playing tag" she puts a hand on his head, "While she chooses to study to become a scholar, I learned the way of a fighter".
"We were perfect together" she added, "I had my vows as the general of elvish army" her tone having nostalgia, "She would often tease at unwomanly I was, I teased her to be a nerdy insect".
"Everything was perfect" She revealed, "although our love was not common in these lands, because special things lacks commonness".
"You loved my mother" Luthor's eyes widened, "Like a....".
"Like a man loves a woman" She said, "sorry if that disgusted you".
"No" Luthor muttered, "but continue" he takes a gulp trying to disgust the info.
"But everything changed" her facial features changed for the worse, "Where the king, mad in his ambitions, to sire the hero of saving from his blood, ordered the guards to get a woman with red eyes, silver hair".
"& that was my mother" Luthor nearly pukes.
"I tried to escape with her, but she was captured, being the only woman with those features".
"& he raped her" she greeted her teeth, "Again & again, night by night, childbirth to childbirt--" she fells on her knees in a mess of tears.
"He made me stand there too, not knowing what we were, I watched all of it".
Her eyes began to glow with a flurry of emotions, "All those nights I wanted to drive my sword through that bastard's chest, choke him to oblivion while he sleeps".
"Then why did you wait until his madness got him" Luthor asked.
"Because your mother…was corrupted by the same madness as your father" she revealed, "Childbirth after childbirth, the prophecy tainted her mind more & More".
"She was gone way before I had the chance to save her" she grabs her hair, pulling them, her scalps began to bleed, "She began an animal, who wanted nothing but to be deflowered more".
The blood began to drop on the ground, "I was there, watching it all"
"Her & her need to birth the great messiah".
"Until her 14th birth killed her".
"That being you" She said, "I wanted to strangle your little throat as a child".
A heartbreak echoes through Luthor's chest, as he grabs it, to think his guardian wanted to kill him, it made him feel the deepest pits of despair…but then a question arrived through his mind.
"Then why am I alive" He asked.
"Because you were all I had left from her" She said, putting a hand on her cheek, "She never actually promised me to raise you".
"Your father really didn't want anything from you, due to your golden eyes"
"But I couldn't kill a child, no I couldn't"
"I took you from the puddle of your mother's blood, when I looked at you, I felt...love, not the one I had with your mother" she pulled him on her chest, "But the one of a birth giver".
"I gave up my titles & ranks, became a maid, raised you, taught you, fed you my own milk...because I knew one thing" She said "I was wrong".
"Your mother & I Had a child".
"It was you" She carresed his cheek, "No matter how much that fucker's blood flows through your veins, the milk that flows through your belly will always be mine & hers".
"You're my son"
"Not because you're the hero of saving"
"Because you're not"
"Because above all medals & lands I achieved"
"You're my biggest brag"
"you always will be"
All those heartfelt words ranged in his mind again & again, the young king broken up, he pulled the smaller relatively stature woman, into his chest.
"Thank you"
"mother" he said tear came out of his eyes & Mucus out of his nose.
"Oh, king or not, you're as filthy as always" She said in a mock frustration, kissing the king on his forehead.
Luthor Elarion, king of the elvish kingdom, protector of Aerion Forrest, now knew what he must do.
To get rid of the cursed prophecy that corrupts the mind, he forever throws the final creation of his father, the painting of the hero, into the deepest basement of the castle, below the levels where the mountain of treasure was kept, as if it was more near to hell than the mortal world.
He can't destroy it as it will just corrupt the minds that will try to burn, tear, detonate it, stopping them from even trying to harm it, so hiding it away from the world is the best alternative he can think off.
The kingdom flourished, way more than when his father was in-charge, can't complain when Quoazo would rather spend being obsessed behind the prophecy than actually do shit, He would walk amongst the peasants, often in their clothing whenever he needed time, his way to knowing what they truyly need was being amongst them, often as a bard, a painter, or a great preacher.
But when he was a king, he was the king.
Fairness & justice was to his deeds what he was to the realm.
Paliv, seeing the boy raised, becoming the man most want to be & the king most dream to become.
It was perfect now that they have gotten rid of their cursed phropecy.
"I think you should get married now" She said while he was changing into his peasant disguise, he stoped as flurry of blush creapt across his cheeks.
"W--What?" he said, "Marriage?".
"As in--" She gets cut off.
"I know what a marriage it" He admits "Its just so random".
"Random my ass, you die childless, your bloodline ends" She said annoyed, "Thanks to your ever-gracefull late father, you're the only one left".
"Yeah yea" he walks out, "You don't gotta remind me the tomfoolrey my old man did before kicking the bucket" he suddenly stops, smiles, looks back.
"Atleast there is no prophecy here to ruin it for me now, is it" his question was answered with a knowing smile, the knowledge was that it all was over.
Then while walking Luthor amongst the peasants, his ears were getting full of applaud & good talk from by standers, them appreciating their king, not knowing he was amongst them, only then he bumped into a someone, as books of all sorts flew across the air.
"woah" he said as he looked upon the figure that caused this fall, it was a woman, there is no doubt, those lucious, milkable sets of breast, it's a sign of a great womanly beuty.
Her face was a grea sight too, her thighs & her excellent child bearing hips.
It's a must breed.
"wait" he said to himself, "What the fuck am I thinking, it's degenrate".
He helps the woman stand up by offering her a hand, "sorry about that, who are you again miss?".
"I am Merrial" she standed dusting off, "& I am so--WAIT" she realised something about the man infront of her, with a quick kneel she said, "I am sorry M'lord" she said.
"Huh" Luthor realised that she recognised him even through his disguise, but he had no time, he grabed the lady & ran away to a more secluded corner, to avoid making a scene.
"How did you know" he said, in a tone of great frustration & utter suspicion.
"IDK" She said, "I have special eyes".
"Hmmm" he said, "You do" looking back those two sets of irisis, it almost identical to his mother's, even tho he never met her, he saw from the paintings.
That woman was not to different in looks, really his mother with different hairstyle & color pallete.
but why it makes him feel, the arousel of a man?, the need to rip her clothes on spot & fuck her in public filled his mind as his mind dwelleved deeper into the simmilarities.
"No" he said to himself, "Rape bad".
"Who are you?" He said, with a tone of great suspicion.
"I am Mellirion, a peasant from greystone valley divide, my father was a farm labour there".
"Greystone valley divide" he said to himself, "My mother was from there too" he admited, "Maybe that's why they share simmilarites, maybe spme second or 3rd cousin of her".
But he can't help but grab his raging cock, that was as hard as steel inside his feel, "Why am I more horny now".
Mellirion, seeing the king grab his groin, seemingly trying to control himself, mistook it for a pre-rape situation, she tried to shout for help but stoped knowing that the man infront of her is THE FUCKING KING.
"I thought you were of fairness & justice" She said with dread, "OK be gentle". she added unbuttoning her shirt, "Atleast my maidenhood will be conquerored by the king, rather than some lustfull man".
"Wait no" He said, putting some space in-between them, "I am not gonna rape you".
"I promise" he said making her calm down, feeling save but one think bothered him, some words she used infact.
"What did you meant by it" he said, "about that lustfull man thingy".
"I want to be a scholar" she said, "But My father have no wealth or land, like a labourer should".
"I ventured here to join the brothel, to fund my studies".
Now that he heared it, he felt but a great discomfort, she was'nt just like his mother by her looks, She was a scholar TOO!!.
Atleast one wanting to be, he can't let it, his heart not wanting for her to wither away in the darkness that is prostitution, since he knows what it is inside there, due to some of his visits there in one of his peasant disguise escapdees.
Woman there all join for money, either for their future or their children's, or to send home to their families, but the cruel lords manipulate them into staying there, with fake promises & false futures, slowly-slowly taking more & more of them, until they are but a despair filled dolls with no abitions, bare husks of their formal selves.
If the brothel union of Elvish kingdom didn't paid their large amount of taxes, he would himself had burned them all to ground.
But this woman, the one so image of his mother, he can't let her, no the king won't allow it.
"NO" he said, "I deny that".
Mellirion, flabbagasted by his refusal, but nodded, "OK, I will jut go back".
"You won't go back either", he throws her a inginia, "You will be living in the quaters of my castle, as a maid, as a cook, or even as a freeloader" he ordered, "All of you will be sponsored by me, that is my promise".
Mellirion was shocked, but somehow escatic beyond imagination at her knew presidment.
"Oh" She said, "There is no library in this world that can store the books of your greatness" she kneeled.
& it happened, she came under his wing, studying & studying, often helping around.
Paliv gave her, the books of Luthor's late mother.
as she also saw the resemblance between her & her formal love.
She became a great scholar & one of king's great advisor, but something was weird.
Luthor was feeling something.....it was a weird sensation, not one of lust & animal like instincts, but something more full & meaningfull.
He stoped seeing his mother in her, instead he saw a woman.
So he entered her room at night, she, seeing the look in his eyes, figured out his intentions, with great welcome.
She took him in her arms, his face rubbing & jerking in her breast, but when the main part came, his penis softened into a hanging lump of meat again, when he saw her face.
"you saw her right" she said, "your mother, Miss Paliv told me about it".
"That's why you lose your passion, you feel it will be like fucking your mom" to which Luthor sat with great shame, "Tch, I am sorry, Maybe I am not the man" but his try to go out was stoped, when she became the top of him, "See me, all you want, until you don't see her".
Luthor stared at her, the blurry vision of his mother's face was fading away, again & again, revealing what she really looked like & It was..a sight.
his member got hard again as the due made castle shaking love.
Paliv down there, hearing the noise, smirked in pride, "Oh our boy have grown so my, My lady".
years later, Mellirion, sired a child, from the king.
The kingdom of elves were in great joy as the news of an upcoming heir, was of a great news.
"When she is born" Luthor said, his hand on the bump on his wife's belly, containing the life, "I will teach him or her, to not be like his father, or his grandpa..but his grandma, the other one".
"well Miss Paliv was last scene running into horizon in great joy" Mellirion said, "Its almost like she really saw it as being a grandmother".
"She is" Luthor said kissing the rosy lips of his wife, "No more prophecy & shit this time, just me, you, the child & the kingdom".
"we don't need to Messiah, things are great as it" he admitted, "Its a shame my father didn't saw it that way".
"He didn't had the chance" the queen reassured him, "But we do & we will use it".
When the child was born, it a was, a little girl, suckling on her mother's breast.
"What should you name it" Paliv said, as Luthor replied, "I am gonna name her, after my own hero of saving".
"Paliv Ellarion".
It was a great gesture, Paliv can't help but pull the thing, "Oh you sweet little dumbass, come here".
The kingdom was in great joy for following decades, with the princess growing up with her father & mother & Paliv, whom she called Gran P., to not get confused between them, Paliv went along with it.
Until.
The past he hided a century ago, the painting of the hero, his father's last creation, was founded by the princess, the cursed prophecy, that got extinguish all those years ago, was lit again, by the one look she had.
It was chaos, nights without sleep, the king often did nothing but walked here & there to help his daughter, since she didn't had someone like Granny P to snap her out of the curse, & the last person who didn't was his father, Quoazo the obessed & we all know how that ended.
He didn't wanted that fate for his daughter, nor for the children she will sire in future.
so he decides to make the ultimate sacrfice.
He disappeared one day, with his daughter in his hands.
Granny P. was woken from her drunken slumber by a sheer shriek from the royal room, Queen Mellirion...she founded a letter, one with great tragedy, that made her weep & wail.
"Mellirion, my love, my queen, it is, but a great misfortune, to inform you, if you are reading this, it have already been too late, I have taken our Paliv, to the goddess of forrest & life, Aerion's domain, the forrest, I plan to have the ever loving goddess remove the madness from our little one, transfer it to me, then I will end my life, with the madness, Take care of the kingdom, & always remember, I will always love you, & if I have been reborn again, I will keep being yours, lifespans after lifespans, even as an mere insect with days to live, even as a dragon with eternity, the cursed prophecy, it was inevitable after all, but the dreams I have been getting these past days, have told me, there really be a hero in our family, but it was never stated to be with blood, our daughter will befriend the messiah, that will end the empire of dragastradorn & the above order's tyranny, yes, it may sound nonsensical, but there was always the need of a hero & our child, will meet him years from now, take care of the kingdom with me, until then this is goodbye, & for Miss Paliv, there is no words existing in any speak of the world, or the countless beyond it to describe what I want to say, thank you, & I wished I was the blood child of yours, maybe some years from now, help my queen take care of the kingdom for me, will ya?".
- Luthor Ellarion, king of the elvish kingdom & protector of the Aerion forrest, signed with the oficial seal of the empire, the mother's womb.
while the queen weeped in sorrow, Granny P. can't help with these emotions, she didn't had time, her another loved one is gonna die due to that stupid prophecy she thought she burried way ago, she ran, as far as her past-prime body can.
Luthor placed Paliv on lusfull green grass, as the forrest dictacted his needs, the goddess herself came, "Hello son".
"Great mother" Luthor said, "You know what I want, don't you?".
Tears of sorrow & grief came out of her eyes, as The goddess Aerion can't help but cry over the fact her another child gonna die, as she sees all that lives, her child, from the mindless bacterias to the greatest beasts that rules worlds beyond.
But she knew what, she picked the little girl off the ground, soothed her, her motherly breast were brough closer, as the girl subcounciosly began to suckle the milk from it, madness leaving her eyes, as she sleeped.
Luthor felt the madness eching through his body, he know what he must do, so he said, "Ok hero of saving" he saw as a image from his dreams, a tall stature's muscular back appeared infront of him, in imagination "ages from now".
He remembered everyone, his love, his mother, his kingdom & lastle..his daughter.
"I leave them to you".
He dugged the dagger deep into his heart, it was painless, maybe Aerion removed the perpatual idea of causing pain from that knife, as mercy of mother, he fell to ground, next to his sleeping daughter.
The world went was darkening, his life flashed, all faces he ever met, even the one he long forgotten flashed infront of his eyes, it trully feels like a goodbye, but he didn't cried.
Cause he know, there will be a great saviour, for to protect the ones he is leaving behind.
He only accepted the prophecy seconds before his demise, a morbid irony, great one at that.
But he closes his eyes, leaving all it to the prophecy he despised so much, the hero whose tale cursed his family, even before he is born.
The king was dead.
Left behind, a widowed queen, a young daughter, a grieving mother & an entire kingdom, with hope that.
There will be a hero.