Rot to Decay

The Putrid scent of decay drifted through the air as Rot's presence seemed to corrupt the very ground beneath his feet. Small patches of grass withered and blackened where he stepped.

Across from him stood a battle-ready Oreon with both his daggers tightly gripped in his hands. Behind him, both sisters stared at what they couldn't believe: An elf in Holy Order garb.

"What...what in the hell?" Sylvanie stuttered. "A dark elf, working with the Order!"

"That's...Impossible..." Celestia spoke in a frightened whisper, horrified by the sight before her. "But why would...Why would an elf of any kind..." She breathed.

“Heh... heh... heh.” A low chuckle slipped from Rot as he slid both hands into his pockets. "So, the royal daughters at last. I've been looking forward to this." His grin widened, red eyes lifting with cruel amusement.

"You traitorous filth!" Sylvanie screamed, stepping in front of her sister. "What is this? How dare you wear those robes and stand with the Order's soldiers like one of their generals? What kind of game are you playing?" She gritted her teeth and drew a sharp breath, her anger shifting from Oreon to the corrupted dark elf before her. "Explain yourself," she said darkly, her slightly sharper-than-human teeth showing. "Do that, and maybe I won't make you beg for death when I stomp your head in."

The wide grin turned into a sick smile that extended across Rot's face. "Ah, so you're the dramatic one." He imitated Sylvanie by taking his own step forward, and the grass under his foot withered immediately, eventually turning black. "Words of your personality did travel down to the Elven slums. The mannerisms of royalty and such, however, unfortunately for us backwater elves, even in our lifetime, it was frowned upon to grace your court with our peasantry." He kept his sick smile on his face.

"But my, how the mighty have fallen... He-he-heh." Another giggle slipped out of him. "You look like you crawled straight from the alleys I grew up in. I never thought I'd live to see royalty dressed in rags and starving for a meal. Tell me, Your Majesties... how does it feel? How does it feel to be the ones crawling on your bellies?"

"You disgusting piece of—" Sylvanie's face contorted with anger, already fallen prey to Rot's words.

Extending her arm to her side, she attempted to conjure her scythe. Dark magic slowly gathered around her arm and finally settled into her palm. However, given her condition and lack of healing, her magic vanished. Gone just as quickly as it came. "What the..." She growled as Rot could do nothing but continue his creepy short giggles at Sylvanie's pitiful display. "You've got to be kidding me right now?"

"Ha-ha! Look at you! Nothing but a pathetic shell of what you once were!" Rot pressed. "Can't even call for your magic now!"

"Great," Oreon thought. "I didn't expect them to catch up this soon." He growled under his breath. "And even worse." He glanced over at the Elven sisters. "It's an elf." He turned his attention back to the corrupted dark elf as the soldiers stood behind him.

Rot's giggle finally turned into laughter as it began to echo through the clearing, earning a frustrated look from Sylvanie.

"How could you?" Celestia asked, stepping beside her sister. "You're an elf, are you not? Why stand with the very people who want us erased—the same people who destroyed our home?" Rot tilted his head, watching her in silence. "You know who we are, yet you still side with the Order and help them drag us back into chains. Why? Why would any elf serve our oppressors?"

His head still askew, Rot kept gazing at Celestia, appearing as if he thought her words were absurd.

"Oppressors?" A sinister smile stretched across the dark elf's face as his red eyes lit up with cruel satisfaction. "Tell me, former queen, who is really the oppressor here?" He countered. "When was the last time you set foot in the Elven slums? Got your pretty shoes dirty walking through our filth that we were forced to live in?" Celestia's eyes narrowed as he held a small, rusty knife in her direction. "I don't ever recall you coming down there personally to ensure that we Elves had what we needed. No? Just sending your royal knights down to the pits was good enough for you to maintain Order amongst the vermin who were deemed less than you."

With a slight glance to the right, his gaze fell on Sylvanie as he slowly directed his corroded blade towards her. "And what about you? You are one of us. A dark elf?" He questioned her. "Yet, here you are, playing princess to a throne that never belonged to you."

"You watch your mouth, filth," Sylvanie warned lowly, clenching her fist.

Celestia stepped in front of her sister. "You mentioned the slums. Then I assume you're from the lowlands of Vel'Andria. But you speak as though they were abandoned. Every city in Vel'Andria was cared for, even our rural settlements." Her eyes narrowed, confusion mixing with doubt at Rot's claim. "I won't deny there were hard times, or tension between commoners and royalty, but even the elves at the Round Table ensured no elf went without."

"The lowlands?" Rot echoed with a snicker. "I'm not talking about those boring farms on the edge of your precious city, where elves chose to live quietly. I mean the Outer Regions—the place everyone looked down on. The place where we were left to fend for ourselves, surviving on the scraps of your trash."

"The Outer Regions..." Celestia lowered her gaze for a moment before returning to Rot. "Then, you're speaking of the elves who...were part of the diaspora."

"Diaspora?" Oreon repeated, slightly confused by the term.

"Elves who were banished," Sylvanie answered, keeping her glare locked on the corrupted elf.

Rot's scarred features twisted into a darker expression. "Oh, so your majesty remembers we existed after all. How...Touching, but yessss." He hissed. "The same Outer Regions where your royal bloodline dumped countless common elves. It's funny how you address it so...Casually, as if..." He paused. "As if your bloodline didn't try to bury us in that disgusting pit."

His tongue slowly slithered out of his mouth, gently licking the rust-covered blade in his hand before pointing it back at the trio, a small glow emanating from the blade itself. "But I'll correct that." He added. "I'll make sure the lovely royal elves are put back in their chains like the good little pets they are...Heh-heh-heh.”

"So, you speak of the Outer Regions as though you were sent there unjustly," Celestia said, standing tall. "Yet you conveniently leave out that it was a place reserved for the worst criminals of our kind. If you were cast there, then tell us what heinous act earned your sentence." Her voice carried the calm authority of a queen. "Rot, was it? Answer me. No honest elf would call a place like the Outer Regions home."

For a moment, silence settled over the clearing as everyone waited for Rot's answer. He only stared at the fallen queen. "Heinous... crime." Another dark chuckle slipped from his lips. "Oh, Your Majesty, you cut me deeply. But I suppose the rumors were true." His laughter faded as his eyes locked with Celestia's. "You truly are... perceptive." The final word dragged out in a low whisper.

"My only crime was that I dared to question why noble blood was worth more than common blood. I wondered why it was others who sat at the Round Table, and not me. What was different?" He began, slowly but casually taking a few steps to his left as he began his answer.

"What's the difference between that pretty dark elf there and me?" He pointed his knife at Sylvanie again. "I'm a dark elf, so why couldn't I be royalty? Was it my talents? No, that couldn't be it." Rot continued to move slowly around them. "Was it my appearance? Surely not."

Oreon tilted his head to the side at the comment. "Yeah, no, I'm sure looks do play a part in it." He interrupted, which caught a side glance from Rot.

 "I continued to ask myself, why are we the low-hanging fruit? What makes one necessary for the round table? How do brats like you become royalty, while those who fought and bled become nothing but just a commoner?"

"Your crime is jealousy then—" Celestia spoke, unfazed by the corruption that circled them. "Jealousy, born out of questions no one has the answers to or the answers you seek." She ended.

Oreon, along with Sylvanie, kept their eyes locked on Rot as he continued his slow pace around them, still wearing the diseased grin across his features.

"Jealousy? Oh no, your majesty. My crime is much simpler than that." He glanced over his shoulder to catch Celestia in his sights. "I continued to wonder what separated us in this broken hierarchy of ours. So, what did I do? Why, I experimented, of course. Thanks to those who willingly gave up their lives for my findings, both common and noble elves." His eyes slitted as venom dripped from his lips. "Turns out—" He grinned grotesquely."–They both scream the same."

The words hung in the air like a curse. The casual admission of torture and murder sent ice through everyone's spines.

"You...You didn't..." Oreon barely said.

"You killed your own people to feed your pointless jealousy!" Sylvanie growled.

"You tortured innocents to satisfy your curiosity between us and stand here and suggest that you were wrongfully exiled to the Outer Regions?" Celestia's voice trembled before regaining her queenly stance. "Why a monster like you wasn't executed escapes me." She commented back. "Banishment was too light a sentence for you, a mistake my father clearly made."

"Yeah, you fit right in with the Order," Oreon added. "After doing something that sick, it's no surprise they welcomed you." He kept his stance firm. "Hard to imagine they'd turn away someone willing to slaughter his own kind."

"And yet, instead of standing with the Purifier, you disgrace his name by siding with fallen royalty." Rot's eyes fixed on Oreon. "You slipped into his domain, stole something precious from him and the Order, and freed the elves he worked so hard to capture." He pointed his blade at him. "Do you think that makes you special, child? Because if you do, then you're no better than me."

The corrupted edge of Rot's blade gleamed with malice as it pulsed again. Everywhere he had walked, the ground had blackened and died. His comparison made Oreon clench his jaw, his body tensing at the thought of being anything like the corrupted elf.

"I'm nothing like you, or my father; you sick freak—"

"Oh, but you are—" Rot's voice was laced with a venomous delight. "You defy the Order, stole from them, freed their prisoners... Tell me, brat, how many of their soldiers did you cut down to get here? How many deaths and screams did you ignore?"

Oreon winced slightly but maintained his composure. "That won't work on me. There's a difference between questioning authority and murdering innocents for sport. I learned a long time ago how evil my father can be. Where his ideals lie and the destruction he and the Order have caused, both to humans and non-humans. So, trust me when I say this, we are not the same." Oreon lowered himself as if the comparison that Rot tried to make triggered him a bit.

"Is there, though? Once again, you defied the Purifier's will, stole the shard, and freed his captives. In his eyes, you're just another criminal that needs to be punished." Rot dragged his corrupted blade across his palm, dark blood seeping from the cut. "The only difference between you and me is that I'm honest about what I am."

"And yet, you wear corruption like a badge of honor." Celestia intervened. "You tortured and murdered our people—your own people—to satisfy your twisted curiosity, then you dress up your crimes as if you were the one who has been wronged, a twisted monster indeed."

"Twisted...monster?" Rot repeated, growing angry at the comment. "You little—"

One of the guards stepped up beside Rot, placing a gloved hand on the decaying elf's shoulder. "Enough talk, Elf. The Order demands the—"

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Rot spun around and slashed his knife across the guard's chest, cutting through his armor. The wound festered instantly. The guard screamed as the infection consumed him, his body decaying into a rotten corpse while Rot's blade glowed with a blackish purple light.

The guard's scream tore through the air as his body convulsed. The infection devoured armor and flesh alike. Within seconds, the living man collapsed into a putrid heap, forcing the four remaining soldiers to stumble back from Rot.

"Nobody touches me without permission." Rot grimaced as he turned back to the trio. "Now, where were we? Ah, right—the Purifier's brat." He extended his left hand, grin twisting across his face. "Hand over the shard you stole. And the elves."

"By the light..." Celestia clasped her hands over her mouth, eyes widening in horror. "You're... You're completely insane."

"Disgusting," Sylvanie remarked. "And you wonder why you were sent to the Outer Regions. Even now, that place sounds like it was too good for a monster like you."

"I don't know what the Order did to you, but you're not even an elf anymore," Oreon added.

"Why all the theatrics?" Rot twirled the small, rotten knife between his fingers. "What's a little demonstration without a proper push? Besides, they're only tools." His gaze shifted to the elven sisters. "Just like you'll be once I drag you back to the Order." Infectious corruption dripped from his blade as he pointed it at Oreon.

"You're insane if you think I'm handing anything over to a Wack job like you," Oreon responded, tightening the grip on his daggers as he watched the dangerous Dark Elf in front of him cock his head to the side.

"Wack job?' Rot's eyes widened, and he burst into laughter, his expression becoming exaggerated and manic as he looked at Oreon. "Wack job? WACK JOB?" He repeated almost as if the word set something off in his mind. "If it takes me being a Wack job to bring you to your knees, THEN CALL ME MAD!"

He charged full speed towards Sylvanie, blade in hand as he reared his arm back, ready to slash the skin of the royal dark elf.

Sylvanie reacted too slowly. She reached for the hilt of her stolen sword, but Rot was already above her, his blade sweeping down. Her eyes widened in shock as she realized she had no way to stop the strike.

"Oh no you don't!" Oreon shouted as his dagger slammed into Rot's blade, stopping the strike cold. Metal rang through the clearing, sparks scattering from the clash. Oreon's muscles strained beneath Rot's unnatural strength, but he forced the corrupted blade away from Sylvanie. Rot twisted midair, flipping over them both before turning his sights on Celestia and lunging for her next.

"Knock it off!" Oreon twisted in midair, leaping over Sylvanie as he drove a sharp spinning kick into the side of Rot's face. The blow knocked Rot away from Celestia, sending him flipping back several times before he landed on his feet in front of the guards.

The taste of Oreon's boot lingered on Rot's split lip as he straightened himself, wiping away a streak of blackened blood with the back of his hand.

"Fast little brat, aren't you?" He spat, the saliva sizzling against the ground where it landed. "But you can't protect them forever."

"Tch!" Sylvanie steadied herself and drew her sword in one smooth motion, shooting Oreon a sharp glare. "I don't need protecting, human," she snapped. "Especially not from the Purifier's spawn." Even so, her hand trembled slightly—not from fear, but from fury at her own sluggish reflexes. The chains, the captivity, and the constant drain on her magic had taken more from her than she wanted to admit.

"You were about to become a pile of—whatever that is over there." Oreon pointed to the pile of decayed flesh on the ground. "A thank you would be nice, especially since you almost snapped my neck before this guy even got here!" Oreon returned.

"Thank you?" Sylvanie gritted her teeth at him before turning her head towards him. "I'd rather die than owe my life to—"

Rot charged again, this time aiming straight for Oreon. His blade came down in a brutal slash meant to split him in two, but Oreon crossed both daggers and caught the strike. Even with the block, the force drove pain through his arms and made him wince.

"Crappp!" His mind screamed in agony, but on the outside, he held his composure. "His strength is insane! What the hell even is he?" His mind concluded.

Sylvanie prepared to move, but the four remaining guards closed in. Their blessed swords gleamed with divine light as they advanced on her.

"Stand down, dark elf! By Order of the Holy Purifier, you will submit!"  

"Then come and make me!" Sylvanie shot back. The first guard lunged with his blessed sword, golden light trailing from the blade. Despite her weakened state, Sylvanie twisted aside, and the strike cut through nothing but empty air.

"Damn witch! Get back—" The first guard was cut short as the blade of the stolen sword was swiped up, nearly cutting the guard in half as his body fell backward with a thud.

"You'll pay, Dark Elf!" The second guard approached her, swinging his divine blade like an inexperienced fighter.

Sylvanie caught sight of the second guard and slipped between his attacks. Each clumsy swing left him wide open. "Is this all the Order sent after us?" she asked, dodging another strike before pivoting on her heel. Her sword flashed upward in a vicious diagonal slash, cutting him from hip to shoulder. The divine light in his blade flickered, then died as it clattered to the ground. "Pathetic."

The last two guards hesitated as they watched their comrades fall so easily. Even weakened and drained of magic, Sylvanie still moved with a speed no human could match.

"Now, then, only two left." She purred, rolling her shoulders as blood dripped from her stolen blade. "Come on then," she said, pointing at the soldiers. "Don't keep me waiting."

"You're all monsters. Every last one of you needs to die!" the fourth guard shouted, raising his blade high. "For the Purifier!" He charged straight at Sylvanie, who only watched his frontal assault with disinterest. Before he could reach her, a burst of light shot over her shoulder, struck him in the chest, and hurled him into a tree. His body slumped to the ground, unmoving.

Sylvanie whipped around, just in time to see the golden light fade from Celestia's outstretched palm, regret in her eyes as she lowered her hand.

"I'm sorry it had to come to that." She apologizes. "Taking one's life is something I'm not very fond of." She turned her attention to the third soldier, who stood frozen in front of them. "And now you have a choice, soldier. Flee now or join your companions in death."

The third and final guard trembled, clutching his blessed sword as his eyes darted between his fallen comrades and the elves who had slain them.

"Three men... dead in seconds," the guard muttered, his confidence shattered. "What... what did we sign up for? They're monsters. Absolute monsters." He shook with fear as his gaze moved from his fallen comrades to the Elves in front of him, who now stood only inches away. "Gah!" he gasped, falling onto his backside and dropping his weapon as she stood calmly before him.

"No, please. I...I surrender..." He spoke fearfully.

"Then go," Celestia simply said. "Leave the blessed sword the Order has given you and return to your home." She turned her back towards the soldier, but not without glancing back. "I do not show mercy twice." She told him calmly. 

The soldier quickly nodded his head, accepting Celestia's offer. "Thank you...Thank you!" He yelled as he backpedaled away from her before finally turning away and scrambling into the forest, stumbling over vines and branches in his haste to escape.

"He's just a boy." Celestia thought as she watched him flee through the trees, his armor clanking with each panicked step. "Barely old enough to hold a sword, yet they send him to hunt us." She sighed to herself. "How many more are just as young as he is, dying before they're old enough to reach old age?"

"Sister, you're doing it again." Sylvanie stood behind her, slightly annoyed with the blade of the sword resting on her shoulder. "Showing the enemy your soft side. We've been over this."

"Let him go, Sylvanie. He's nothing but a child in armor that he's not even big enough to fit yet." She turned towards her sister.

"He's going to run back to the Order and tell them everything, you know." Sylvanie crossed her arms.

"I don't believe he will." She returned. "Fear has a way of making people not want to relive a traumatic experience.

Sylvanie rolled her eyes and glanced toward the trees where the soldier had fled. "That bleeding heart of yours always gets in the way." She sighed, irritation returning. "And why did you step in with the last guard? I could've handled him myself."

"You're exhausted; I can tell in your movements." Celestia's big sister voice, firm but still gentle, came out. "The chains that the Order put us in drained our magic more than you'd like to admit. You've been pushing yourself too hard ever since we were captured. As your big sister, I can spare a bit more magic to make sure you don't overdo it."

"And yet you used light magic to blast a soldier into a tree, and now you look like you're about to pass out." Sylvanie returned, walking past her. "Hypocrite." She muttered under her breath.

Meanwhile, Oreon shoved Rot back, and their blades clashed again. Human and corrupted elf traded blow after blow, steel ringing through the clearing. Oreon fought to match Rot's pace, but every impact made his muscles tighten with pain as the dark elf's strength began to overwhelm him.

With another parry, Oreon's boots scraped against the dirt as Roy's next strike sent him sliding backward, his arms aching from the impact.

"What's wrong, brat?" Rot lunged with a downward strike, but Oreon leaped aside, narrowly avoiding it as he fought to catch his breath. Rot's knife carved into the tree behind him, and the wood rotted the moment the blade cut through. "Getting tired already?" Rot slowly turned to face him. "Good. Stay alive a little longer and keep entertaining me!" he screamed before charging again.

Oreon growled under his breath as Rot's movements grew more erratic and vicious. Every swing carried bone-breaking force, and with each clash, Oreon felt his defense slipping.

They entered their dance again, Rot attacking and Oreon dodging and parrying, only attacking when he was sure that he had an opening, but it was only parried or blocked.

"Damn it," Oreon cursed, ducking Rot's swipe before slashing upward and barely grazing his chest. "What the hell did the Order put in you?" He sidestepped another blow and cut into Rot's arm, but the corrupted elf didn't so much as flinch. Rot answered with a sudden swing, his knife crashing against Oreon's crossed daggers. Oreon tried to hold the block, but the force shattered his guard and sent him sprawling to the ground.

His body tumbled as he rolled over quickly, avoiding Rot from stomping his head into the ground, quickly regaining his fighting stance.

"I can't let him touch me," Oreon muttered as he rushed forward, launching his own frontal assault. "I can't let him touch me." He repeated the warning like a mantra, aiming for Rot's vital spots. But Rot blocked each strike with ease, then parried the last blow and left Oreon wide open. Oreon's eyes widened in shock.

"Gotcha." With a sneer, Rot swiftly brought his blade down to slash Oreon's chest, though Oreon parried at the last instant; the force of the attack sent him hurtling into a tree. His back collided with the tree hard, causing his eyes to shoot up from the pain as he fell forward to the ground.

"Yep, ok...That hurt." Blood trickled down Oreon's chin as he struggled to push himself up from the forest floor, his vision blurring momentarily from the impact.

Rot laughed as he approached Oreon's battered form, twirling his knife between his fingers. "How unfortunate. I hoped you'd last longer." His smile sharpened. "Fighting the Purifier's son sounded amusing at first. But now that I see what you really are, I'm disappointed. You're a complete waste of time." He pointed the blade at the wounded Oreon. "Everything you've survived so far was nothing but luck, even stealing the shard. But now..." He dragged the blade across his tongue. "Looks like that luck has finally run out, brat."

Oreon, who was now breathing heavily, wiped the blood away from his chin with the back of his hand.

"You know, thanks for that," Oreon said, raising his daggers as he forced himself back into his stance. "My old man probably thinks I'm a disappointment too." His grip tightened. "But I never cared what he thought. And I sure as hell care even less about what someone like you thinks of me."

Rot raised an eyebrow but kept smirking. Then, without a word, he charged again—faster than Oreon could follow. Oreon's eyes widened as Rot appeared before him, his blade stopping mere inches from his face.

"Oh no...I can't dodge it." Oreon's mind raced as the blade drew closer.

At the last second, Sylvanie's sword slammed into Rot's knife, knocking it away from Oreon's face and returning the favor from earlier. The impact sent Rot's arm recoiling.

"What?" Rot muttered as a burst of light struck his chest and sent him sprawling backward. He quickly regained control, landing on his feet and steadying himself before looking up to see Sylvanie and Celestia standing in front of Oreon.

"Well, well, seems the majesties have joined us. And look to protect a human no less," He smirked at the sisters. "You've truly shown how far you've fallen."

Sylvanie's grip tightened on her stolen blade. "And you talk too much for something that should already be rotting in the ground." She readied herself, getting into a fighting stance of her own. "Why don't we fix that?'

"Can you still fight, human?" Celestia asked, glancing back as her blue eyes settled on Oreon. "We'll need your help to send this monster from this world." She faced Rot again, her gaze narrowing. "He won't let us leave, and if he captures us, his crimes won't end here. That leaves us only one choice."

Oreon looked over at Celestia but gave a small smirk of his own. "Well, who am I to deny a queen?" He said, readying himself once again for another fight.

Tension gripped the clearing as the three stood against one corrupted foe. Rot's laughter echoed through the trees while his knife glowed with malevolent energy, its point aimed at the trio.

"Alright then, let's start Round 2."