Red-Eriel
5th of the 7th month, Year 1029
"Can't you wait for me until morning, Nutrin?" Loran Thazeiros opened the door to his room and found his guard's head peeking in.
"My lord, I apologize for waking you, but you must see this."
"Speak, Nutrin, what is it?"
"My lord, the patrol found a woman on the shores of Filuir; her appearance is unlike that of a human."
"What do you mean by 'unlike a human'? Is she dangerous?" In haste, they made their way to the meeting hall.
"She has pointed ears and a captivating face; she possesses a magical aura that is hard to describe. In fact, her skin shimmers like moonlight, and her language — we could not understand what she was saying; it seemed to be the language of Arathia."
"Open the door!" commanded Loran, and the guard on duty promptly opened the hall door. Loran, accompanied by Nutrin and several royal guards, stepped inside, finding the figure gazing out from the castle balcony, wearing a gown that seemed to merge with the magical moonlight. Her long hair flowed gently like a waterfall, and the jewels in her hair sparkled like stars filling the night sky.
They were stunned in amazement and fear, when the figure turned and looked at them, the king's guards drew their swords to protect their king and the figure began to speak; "Yiterakhac man'nan ev ulha ner yahum!" ("Order your men to sheathe their swords!")
Loran, who understood and was fluent in Arathia, said; "Nen elfhalar, an ar nen ulaim ikhar?" ("You are an Elf, what are you doing here?") while clenching his fists, signaling the guards to sheathe their swords.
The figure smiled when he heard Loran speak Atharian and said "Nen malar, al nen elfhalar kunna" ("You are human, but you speak elven")
"Yon elfhalar kunna, Aratharia kunna, yhan lul itarin yhan hosakh" ("Not the language of the elves, the language of the Atharians, we still remember our origins") Loran said in a firm tone.
She nodded slowly, realizing that before her stood a human who understood more than just words, but also ancient history etched in the annals of mankind. "Ita rakhum, terakh ain dun Aratharia kunna lal a malar irra'dan hur ekhin, Atheran Thazirous leranan" ("That's good, the last time I spoke Atharian with a human was 500 years ago, his name was Athran Thazeiros)"
"Athran? Have you ever spoken to him?" Loran said in surprise.
"True, Loran son of Elion, before you breathed the air of this world, I met Athran, your ancestor, the first king of Estravar." She continued, "My name is Mírieniviel, and I am sent once more from Arathia to the world of men to meet you."
Loran stepped forward, approaching her with a face that reflected cold tension. "If Oceareest and Snotrezia were to learn of your presence here, they would surely unite and take up arms against me. Why should I accept your arrival and risk my kingdom, Mírieniviel, Elf of Arathia?"
Mírieniviel looked at Loran with a gaze full of wisdom and tenderness. "Loran, son of Elion, I come in peace. My presence here is not to cause war, but to prevent it."
"Prevent it? Stop your singing, elf." Loran retorted. "I must admit that you are brave enough to come here alone and claim that you have met my ancestors. Seriously, I am not stupid enough to believe you, do you think your beauty can captivate my mind? Have you forgotten that humans hold a grudge against your kind? Where were the elves when Malakar was about to destroy humanity? Now get out of my sight."
Loran turned, about to leave the room, when Mírieniviel called out to him in Atharian; "Ik'nurim dun'yarkha dun'lakharin, yon luk'ha dun'unamir firh ik'lakharin erek'hun" ("In the east I establish my throne, and let my descendants sit on the throne forever").
Stopping in his tracks, Loran froze, turned his face to Mírieniviel and asked in surprise; "Those words, how did you know them? They are our family's secret, known only to a few people. What do you mean by bringing those words up now?"
Mírieniviel looked at Loran tenderly, as if recalling a distant past. "These are the words that the rulers of Red-Eriel passed on to their successors, these are the words that your ancestor, Athran Thazeiros, spoke to me. I was there when he spoke them, as a witness to his oath to the Elves to re-establish ties with Arathia."
"Our worlds are connected more than you imagine, Loran son of Elion, descendant of Athran"
Slowly, Loran's suspicions began to fade, replaced by respect and a hint of curiosity. "What do you want from me, Mírieniviel?"
"Trust. You must believe the truth I will tell you"
"What truth?"
Mírieniviel replied in a whisper "Malakar, lord of darkness and death, he still lives among the shadows you are unaware of"
Loran stared at him in shock, his heart trembling at the name that had long been considered a mere legend. "Malakar? Wasn't he defeated centuries ago? My ancestor Athran himself destroyed him in the Blackrock valley, how is it possible that he still exists?"
"I will show you what really happened five hundred years ago," said Mírieniviel as he placed a mirror he had brought with him on the table.
"What is this?" asked Loran, full of curiosity.
"This is the past that will be revealed to you. Come and look into it."
Cautiously, Loran approached the mirror, while Nutrin and the king's guards watched warily from behind. "There's nothing in this mirror, just my face," he complained.
"Pay more attention, O descendant of Athran," Mírieniviel replied, before reciting a magical incantation that echoed with a powerful magical aura; "Lurnak'har ardum nim, lurnak'har lurnak'har serknum." Instantly, the mirror emitted a blinding light that filled the room, then began to show what it was supposed to show and Mírieniviel began to tell the true story of the past.
"Long ago, after mankind left Arathia and set foot on Santara, we, the Elves, made Arathia our home, filled with glory and prosperity. In eternity, Arathia was led by those known as the Ararnior. They led in harmony the seven Ararnior of the Order of Aratharion, with strength and wisdom that surpassed any being, for they were the servants of Arfa and Afra."
"However, as time went by, one of them, Malakar, who felt that Arathia was not enough for him, turned his attention to Santara and wanted to conquer it. This could not be justified by the Aratharion Order who stood firm against Malakar's thoughts that were mired in greed. Malakar, who had been corrupted and had forgotten his true self, realized that as long as the Aratharion Order still existed, he would not be able to rule the world."
"So he left the light and entered the darkness. With his gloomy heart, it didn't take long for Malakar to master the power of the deep darkness. He came to challenge the Ararnior to end the Order of Aratharion and managed to destroy two Ararnior with his dark power. The four remaining Ararnior in fear combined their strength and came to fight the dark power of Malakar and with his steadfast strength Malakar was successfully subdued."
"They then banished him and locked Malakar in the darkness beneath the earth. From then on, his name was never heard again, and peace was restored to Atharia. In fear of Malakar's fate, the remaining Ararniors decided to disband the Order of Aratharion, handing over the rule of Arathia to us, so that we could lead our own people. After that, they wandered, never to be seen, never to be heard from again."
"Then came the fall of Southern Santara. Word reached us just as Aldar, one of the long-lost Ararnior, came to warn us of Malakar's rise, for he could sense the return of darkness. Aldar, knowing that Malakar was rising in Santara, asked our high king to sail with an army to save humanity from its doom. But history records that it was we who drove them from Arathia, and our high king knew that humans held a grudge against us. To go to Santara would be to bring the swords of men against us, and we had no choice but to wait for word from the wretched land of Santara."
"Aldar, who felt that he had a responsibility to wipe out Malakar once again and for all, did not remain silent. With the blessing of the high king of the elves, he gathered a small band of brave and loyal Elven knights, to sail to Santara. I, one of them"