Chapter 26: Elf

There are lands where time seems to have stopped…
Where the wind whispers names long forgotten, and light, instead of warmth, brings only a chill.

Among the nine realms lies one that once shone brighter than all the rest. A place where magic flourished, where harmony with nature was absolute, and where every corner was a poem carved in stone and light.

But even the purest beauty can be devoured by fear.
When knowledge becomes a threat, and power is seen as danger, guardians turn into targets… and history darkens forever.

Alfheim is no longer what it once was.
What was once music and laughter is now silence and ruin.

But ruins also speak.
And some are about to hear what was hidden for years…
and should never have come to light.

The hooves of Odin’s horse echoed dully against the bleak stones of Helheim. The wind was heavy. Death was commonplace. But this time, even Helheim seemed to hold its breath.

Hemord rode with a tense face, his gaze firm, as though a fragile spark of hope still beat within him. He raised his voice.
“Munin.”

From the mist, a raven black as the abyss emerged, hovering beside him. One of Odin’s eyes—and Hemord knew it.
“I know you’re listening, All-Father. I’ve done my part. I struck a bargain with Hela. Every being must weep for Balder’s death… that is the only way to bring him back.”

At that moment, in Asgard’s golden palace, Odin lifted his gaze. Through the raven, he had heard every word.
“You all heard him,” he declared in a grave voice. “Carry this message across the Nine Realms. Now!”

The kingdom’s gates opened. Riders thundered out one after another, each bearing the urgency of those who carried the world’s fate in their hands.

And so mourning spread. From the glaciers of Niflheim to the skies of Vanaheim, across mountains, oceans, and suspended cities—every being wept. Creatures, objects, spirits. All… or almost all.

Hemord’s journey carried him to Jötunheim. A harsh, frozen land where the mountains were gray and the air itself stung.
“So, you’re the last one, Thokk.”

The jötun, cloaked in rags, turned only slightly, revealing a face hardened by centuries.
“And what do you expect of me, Aesir? A tear? Don’t make me laugh.”

“You know very well what I want. Don’t play dumb.”

Thokk spat on the ground.
“Bringing Balder back… what a waste of time. I have no interest in seeing that pampered god return.”

Hemord’s sword was at his throat in an instant.
“What did you say?!”

“I said what I meant. I don’t care if he returns or not. But I won’t contribute. Let Hela keep what belongs to her.”

“Damn you… Do you think you alone can defy this?”

“I don’t need strength. All it takes… is refusing to weep.”

In that moment, a sound spread through the Nine Realms.
The tolling of bells.

One after another, the echoes rang out, crossing mountains, seas, and skies. The pact… was breaking.

“No… it can’t be,” Hemord muttered, his face twisted. “Wait… not yet!”

The chain around his arm began to crack, dissolving into dust as if time itself unraveled it.
“Wait!”

Too late. The glow of magic faded, and with it, Balder’s spirit began to drift back… to Helheim.

“NO!”

Hemord lunged forward, swinging his blade in fury, but met only wind and shadow.
“DAMN IT!”

Far away, in Asgard, flowers began to wither without reason. The sky turned dull and gray.

Odin closed his eyes.
“There is no turning back…”

Back in Jötunheim, Hemord knelt, trembling, barely able to hold back his tears.
“I… I have failed…”

A whisper of steel made him lift his head. A blade rested against his throat.
“So it was you all along,” he whispered, without surprise.

“Yes,” Loki replied. “I’m sorry… that it has to end this way.”

“You really think you can take on Odin… and all of them?”
“Maybe not. But I have to try.”

Hemord let out a bitter laugh. He wept. Then he smiled.
“Now… I understand how you felt back then. It hurts…”

Loki said nothing. He simply drove the sword through Hemord’s chest.

Hemord’s body fell heavily to the ground.
“I’m glad… you won’t have to see what comes next.”

The mist thinned. Munin descended and perched beside the corpse. Silence. Nothing but silence.

And in Asgard… the All-Father felt the weight of the loss. A new shadow began to form.

Hemord’s lifeless body lay before the throne. Munin’s wings still beat with sorrow. Odin stood, watching in silence. Not a single god dared speak. The All-Father’s wrath began to condense like a gathering storm.

An invisible crack ran through the air as the ground of Asgard trembled. Flowers withered. The sky turned gray.

“Father…?” Thor asked, stepping forward.

Odin did not answer. His eyes, once wise, were now two embers stoked by fury.
“Whoever did this… we will kill them…” he whispered, voice broken and trembling more from rage than grief. “No… that would be a mercy. We will torture them until they beg they had never been born.”

Thor frowned.
“Do you have any suspects?”

“Yes,” Odin said coldly. “Only a god could have fooled Munin… and done this without leaving a trace. Tomorrow… we will summon them all. Every god, without exception.”

Thor nodded.
“Understood.”

Far from Asgard, a thick, vegetal wind lashed the ruins of a forgotten civilization. Between twisted trees and vine-choked stones, two figures moved cautiously.

“What the hell happened here…?” Shu murmured, stopping before a toppled tower, its stones devoured by giant roots.

The landscape looked swallowed by centuries of war and neglect. No birds. No light. Only an oppressive silence.

A female voice broke the stillness.
“My mother used to tell me stories about Alfheim,” Sara said, lowering her gaze. “But none of them ever mentioned this.”

“This looks like a war zone… But why is there no record of it?” Shu answered.
“I remember asking Thor once to bring me here. He always refused. I guess… now I understand why.”

They pushed deeper into the twisted thicket of the dead forest.

Suddenly Shu froze and shoved Sara behind a fallen trunk.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Shh.”

A grotesque shadow emerged between the trees. A malformed being—nearly three meters tall—approached with slow steps. Its body looked like a biological jigsaw—badly stitched parts as if creation itself had made a mistake.

“What… is that…?” Sara breathed, barely audible.
“I don’t know… but whatever it is, it’s loaded with energy.”

Shu swallowed. The monster turned its massive head toward them. Its eyes gleamed with an ancient, unnatural power. A chill ran down Shu’s spine.
“If we try to run… I’m sure it’ll kill us before we take a second step…”

Sara watched him in silence, feeling her pulse race.
“Shu…”

He did not answer. His mind was already racing.
“Shu—”
“I’m thinking!” he hissed, barely containing his frustration.
“Well hurry, it’s coming closer.”

One more step, a low roar. The creature lifted its head and sniffed the air.
“I have no plan,” Shu admitted. “If we make any move, it will kill us.”

But just when the monster seemed about to strike...
CRACK!
A thunderous noise split the air. The creature shuddered. Its body arched backward before collapsing, lifeless. Upon its back, a hooded figure descended calmly, slowly pulling a sword out of its skull.

Shu and Sara stared in disbelief.
"Did he… kill it with a single blow…?" thought Shu.

The hooded figure turned and walked toward them, without raising his weapon.
“Don’t worry. You’re safe now,” he said softly.

The hooded figure lowered his hood.
His pointed ears and serene face left no room for doubt.
“You’re… an elf…?” Shu asked, not lowering his spear.
“That’s right.”

The air grew heavier still. Something, deep within that forgotten forest, had just opened a door that perhaps should never have been closed.

The three of them moved with an almost ghostly swiftness among the twisted trees, gliding like shadows under a sky that seemed not to know the sun. At last, they arrived at a house hidden among the treetops, barely visible from the ground. The silence there was even denser.

“Forgive the mess,” said the elf as he opened a wooden door carved with faint runes. “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

Inside, the warmth was welcoming, yet steeped in a nostalgia that clung to the skin. Every corner seemed to hold echoes of a happy… but lost past.

Shu observed everything in silence, his spear still on his back but his gaze sharp.
“Since we arrived, we haven’t seen a single sign of life. Even this place is hidden as if… as if it feared being found,” thought Shu.

The elf sat before them and folded his hands on the table.
“You surely have many questions. But first, I need you to answer mine. Honestly.”
“That’s fine with us,” Shu replied firmly.

The elf fixed his eyes on Sara. His gaze wasn’t hostile, but it was piercing.
“You. Girl. You’re a dark elf, aren’t you?”
“Eh? Me?” Sara blinked in surprise. “You’re mistaken, I’m not…”
“I can sense the essence of one from miles away. Even if you lie, I’ll know,” the elf interrupted calmly, without raising his voice.
“I swear, I’m not a dark elf,” Sara repeated, a trace of anguish in her eyes.

The elf observed her a moment longer, then looked away with a faint sigh.
“Perhaps she doesn’t know… but her energy doesn’t lie. She is one of the dark ones, whether she accepts it or not.”
“No matter for now. Let’s move on to the next question.”
“Go ahead,” Sara answered, more cautiously this time.

“What are you doing here? Alfheim’s gates are sealed. Only high-ranking gods can pass through them. How did you manage it?”

Sara hesitated for a moment, then sighed.
“I don’t know if it was a good idea… but we stole Heimdall’s sword.”

The silence grew heavier. The elf’s eyes widened just slightly.
“You… stole Heimdall’s sword? Do you realize the magnitude of such madness?”
“Yes,” Sara admitted in a faint voice. “But I wanted to know the truth. I needed it.”

The elf rose and walked slowly toward a bookshelf, his back to them.
“Listen carefully, girl. Sometimes the price of knowing too much is death. In this world, there are secrets kept not to protect knowledge… but to protect those who could never bear it.”
“That’s what happened here, isn’t it?” Shu intervened.

The elf turned back to him slowly. His expression was now far more severe.
“You are perceptive, son of Athena.”
“You know me?”
“Your spear is recognizable even in the shadows. Not many bear a weapon forged by the ancients—let alone one infused with pure divine energy.”

Shu lowered his guard slightly. It wasn’t the first time someone had recognized him without an introduction.
“Then… will you tell us what happened?”

The elf sat down once more. For a few seconds, he said nothing. He only closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his voice had grown grave, tempered by memory.
“It all began ten years ago…”

The scene slowly became tinged with a golden glow, as if the past were seeping through the leaves and entering through the cracks of memory.

“Many years ago, Alfheim was the most prosperous of the nine realms. Our magic, our bond with the runes, and our harmony with nature… all of it surpassed even Asgard. And that… did not please everyone.”

Flashback

Alfheim pulsed with life. The trees glowed with their own light, buildings floated gently on platforms of energy, and the air was thick with music and flowers. In the midst of all this splendor, a temple shone with wedding decorations.

“You look nervous, Elsif,” said Feri, adjusting his ceremonial robe. “It’s your big day. You should smile more.”
“I’m trying, Feri. I just want everything to be perfect.”
“Trust us, my friend. Today, you’ll be happy.”

Elsif nodded and walked solemnly toward the altar. Soon, amidst sighs of emotion, Filesaf entered the temple, radiant as the moon at its peak. The two clasped hands.
“You look stunning,” Elsif whispered.
“You too, my love.”

“By the power granted to me by the gods, I now unite you in marriage,” Feri proclaimed. “Do you both accept?”
“Yes,” they answered in unison.
“Then, if no one objects…”

The ground-shaking roar struck like the voice of the earth itself. The temple’s massive doors were torn away by a blast of wind.

“You must run now!” Loki shouted, bursting in like a desperate shadow.
“Loki?” Feri froze. “What are you doing? This is a wedding!”
“There’s no time. You have to flee!”
“What in the world is happening?” asked Filesaf, gripping Elsif’s hand.
“Odin… Odin is coming. He wants to wipe out all the light elves!”
“The All-Father?” Feri frowned. “What kind of joke is this?”
“This is no joke,” Loki snapped. “He discovered the secret of the runes. He knows you are the only race capable of stopping his plan.”
“And for that… exterminate us?” Elsif whispered.

“Take him away,” Filesaf ordered, irritated. “We don’t need a god of lies ruining this day.”
“Feri, please! If you don’t escape now—”

But it was too late.

A blinding, pure white light split the sky. A thunderclap tore through the walls. The temple crumbled like sand in the wind. Dozens of bodies lay scattered beneath the rubble.

And at the threshold stood Odin.

“What a lovely wedding… though I’m sad I wasn’t invited.”

Loki knelt in a corner, bleeding, one arm missing. His eyes burned with fury.
“I wish I could say it’s good to see you.”
“Sorry about your arm,” Odin said with false courtesy. “I’ll have Eir patch it up later. If you survive, that is.”
“Damn you, Odin. This isn’t divinity. It’s genocide.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Loki. Sometimes, wiping out a race is just… part of the process.”
“Process? What is it you really seek?”
“Power. Wisdom. Amusement…” The god smiled, a cruel gleam in his eyes. “Knowledge doesn’t always come through peaceful paths. Sometimes, it requires… sacrifices.”
“You’re a monster.”

Loki rose. His energy, dark and stormy, began to swirl around him.
“Remember the pact? If one of us kills the other… both will perish. But I don’t care anymore.”
“Are you willing to risk everything, Loki?”
“I have nothing left.”

Odin too began to radiate power. The air grew heavy. The foundations of the world trembled.

Amid the rubble, Elsif opened his eyes. His hands shook as he saw Filesaf’s body torn in two.
“My beloved…” he whispered, voice breaking.

A single tear fell down his cheek. Then, a circle of runes ignited beneath him, swallowing him into the earth just before the impact.

The heavens roared. Alfheim, once the most beautiful of realms, was reduced to ruins within minutes.

End of flashback.

Elsif had fallen silent. The faint candlelight flickered across his face, deepening the shadows beneath his eyes. When his voice returned, it was hushed, drained, as if retelling the past had emptied him.
“After that… I don’t remember clearly what happened. All I know is that, when I awoke, there was no one left in all of Alfheim. Not a voice, not a breath… only the lifeless bodies of those I once called family.”

Shu lowered his head, his chest tightening.
“I’m sorry…”
“There is nothing left to grieve,” Elsif continued, his gaze fixed on some distant void. “But the strangest thing came afterward. Weeks later, they began to appear. Hundreds, thousands of them… those things you saw.”

Shu clenched his fists.
“No way… Them?”
“Yes.”

Shu swallowed hard, struggling to process it. The pieces fell into place with painful precision.
“Of course…” he murmured. “That energy… that fear…”

Sara looked at him, bewildered.
“What are they? I don’t understand…”
Shu drew a deep breath.
“Those monsters we saw out there… they’re the ancient light elves.”
“What?!” Sara stumbled back, horrified. “How… how can that be possible?”
“I don’t know…” Shu lowered his eyes. “But they are…”

A shadow slipped behind them. None of them noticed. Not until it spoke.
“They are failed experiments.”

The voice tore through the silence like a knife through flesh. Shu and Sara spun around at once, weapons raised. Loki emerged from the darkness with a sly grin.

Shu barely restrained his instinct.
“Since when have you been there?”
“Since before you began asking questions,” Loki replied calmly. “But don’t worry. If I wanted you dead, you would be.”

Shu slowly lowered his spear, weighing every word.
“He’s beyond us… it’s not worth fighting.”
“Very wise, son of Athena,” Loki nodded, his tone mocking and ambiguous as always. “I appreciate when people save me time.”

Sara pointed at him, brows furrowed.
“What did you mean by ‘failed experiments’?”
“Just what you heard. Those grotesque beings are the result of attempts to replicate the origin of elven power. Scientists, sorcerers… creatures from all corners obsessed with uncovering the secret. And here you see the outcome: soulless abominations.”

Shu narrowed his eyes.
“And how do you know that?”
“I have my sources.”

Sara gritted her teeth.
“I never imagined that Grandfather… that Odin would be capable of something like this—all for power.”
Loki let out a short laugh.
“‘Grandfather’? How cute. No one knows the true Odin. That old man lives only for knowledge. If he must destroy a world to grasp it… he will, without blinking. He is the god of everything… and of nothing.”

A chill ran down Shu’s spine. Everything fit. Too well.
“Now I understand that dark power emanating from him…”

Loki spun on his heel and raised an eyebrow at Elsif.
“And you, old elf… I told you I didn’t want visitors. Least of all two kids who might leak information.”
Elsif shrugged, indifferent.
“The only mouth that spilled anything was yours. I merely shared memories.”
“Ah…” Loki smiled shamelessly. “Then forget what I said.”

Shu pressed a hand to his forehead.
“Seriously…?” he thought.
Sara tilted her head.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. Forget it,” Shu muttered, surrendering to the chaos.

Loki sighed, then raised his eyes toward the sky, blackened by mist.
“Anyway, night is falling. You’d better leave. This place is not kind after dark.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… it becomes hell.”

From the treetops and rubble, eyes began to appear. Hundreds. Thousands. Glowing like burning coals, fixed on the house where they stood.

The monsters of Alfheim surrounded the refuge, dragging their twisted bodies with guttural shrieks and bloodlust.

Elsif shut the windows.
“Welcome to nightfall in Alfheim.”