INTERLUDE: THE RETURN OF HINWE TAL-INWIR, HOLY CUSTODIAN OF THE WATERS OF CHERWOODS

***The city of Berondin, after several weeks…***

Long after the last of the demon armies were scattered at the end of the 11th Human-Demon War, the elvish settlement of Berondin first came into existence. By then, the god of Chersea and of the Five Realms, Gaius, had stepped down from his divinity and lived as a mortal. In his place were the saints, each one given the god-powers formerly vested on Gaius, and came from the various races from the worlds connected by the ‘crossings’.

While the lines of the human and elvish saints were established long before the downfall of the Roman god, it was the first time they were given the semi-divine responsibility of guiding their people towards the graces of heavens. The Lady Hinwe Tal-Inwir, a friend and ally of the human race, was the first elvish saint to receive the god-powers, thus, the influence and prestige of her ‘office’ grew among the elves.

And this is how the ‘Great Schism’ started…

In the elvish society, originally there were two religious factions. The first were the ‘forest elves’, so-called because they advocated living with the nature around them. This group was supported by the Elf Saint, as she wanted a ‘sustainable’ and ‘secure’ life for her subjects. The other side were the ‘human-friends’, or elves who were pushing to living like their human allies. These people, while they still maintained their pride as elves, wished to use the ancient forests of Cherwoods to their development…pretty similar to human cities in Chersea, which cleared the woodlands formerly dotted their realm.

Thus, with such different ways to live, the forest elves and human-friends decided to separate ways. The former settled in Cherwoods itself, while the latter built their cities on the fringes of the region. Still, these elves had a sense of brotherhood, and their separation was peaceful. There were cases of cooperation to a certain degree, which both sides thought was unbreakable…

And then, it happened…

The Lady Hinwe Tal-Inwir suddenly decided to improve the lives of her subjects, thus, she sought to had the forest elves learn the ways of men. Of course, they resisted, accusing her of pandering to other races. Things got even worse, when the Elf Saint proposed to use the demon methods in sustaining the agricultural produce. So much was the shock and indignation of the forest elves, that they thought the human-friends used witchcraft to prod her to do it. Naturally, the human-friends denied and fought back.

With a larger population than their enemies, it was easy to know who won in the strife that followed. The forest elves destroyed the ‘stone cities’ the human-friends built, and they forced the remnants to flee to far-flung places, where the former’s armies couldn’t easily reach them. Contact with the humans and other races was lost, and the technology of the human-friends devolved from the use of stones and masonry for their cities, to mud and grass to fortify their last settlement, Berondin.

“…”

The Black God, as someone who was there to watch the tragedy unfold for ages, could only shake his head. There were many chances the elves could’ve set their differences aside to work on a common goal, but they didn’t; simply because of their hubris. And that hubris also caused the Seductress to be attracted in this world, since their schism had been ongoing for many ages, and built up feelings of enmity and bitterness for her to consume.

However, this time the Black God is determined to end their schism…

The disappointing news from the otherworlder, Kuro of Arles, and the refusal of the city of Elgon to fight, convinced him that he should dig in for a war of attrition. Until the Chersean elves of the Duke of Maverny attack, the fight against the Seductress would be limited to the inhabitants of Cherwoods.

And he has to unite the elvish factions into a powerful force…

“This is how you grow plants using only water,” he showed to the elves—both the locals of Berondin and the refugees—his idea of increasing the agricultural produce in that area. “It’s called ‘Hydroponics’, and this farming technique not only saves space, but also keeps your crops safe from the threat of the advancing sands from the south of Cherwoods.”

To prove his point further, the deity chanted a spell that caused the sample plant to grow quickly.

“Look, as you can see, I’m only causing the crop to grow. Of course, while under my spell, this plant still has its needs, like nutrients and water to live. That’s why the water level in this container is getting lower. Even if you closely examine the water, I’m not doing anything. But, you can tell that this one is a healthy plant, ready to be eaten.”

“Your Holiness,” a refugee raised a question, “this is a human convention, right? Why do we—the proud elves of Cherwoods—have to use human ideas in our everyday lives?”

“That pride will wipe your people out if you insist on it,” the warrior deity declared, trying to keep his voice down. Nevertheless, his annoyance at the trivial matter raised by the elf escaped from his mouth through his booming tone. “Look, everything is permissible under heaven. Of course, the gods won’t share this knowledge if it’s something that will harm their creations! Your saint, the Lady Hinwe, tried to improve your lives by teaching you these things, and yet, your foolishness drove her to become the irresponsible lady she is today! What’s the basis of your objection to this, other than you are elves, and this is human knowledge?”

The forest elves were silent, speechless after the stinging rebuke. However, the Black God’s concerns didn’t end there…

“Milord,” an elder of Berondin commented, “while this is surely a beneficial knowledge, our people prefer to hunt than farm.”

“Well, I’m just handing you the know-how,” the Black God replied. “Whether you use it depends on your choice. But then, you have to consider; we’re fighting a conflict against a powerful enemy. You’ll definitely need lots of resources.”

“My apologies, lord. I think you’re making a mistake here,” the elder countered. “This war is not our business. Our people have been persecuted since time immemorial, and fighting enemies are just like another ‘ordinary moment’ for us. We’re just helping these forest elves because we are not cold-blooded murderers; we can’t turn away people asking our aid.”

“A god never commits a mistake, especially in this matter,” the Black God pointed out. “The monster back at the Saint’s Tree is no ‘ordinary enemy’ you faced before, and it’s highly-recommended that you help these poor folks that formerly hated you. After all, the more of them you kept from getting killed, the higher your chance of winning. And, the higher your chance of success, the bigger is the possibility of you and your people getting to live for another long sleep. Isn’t it what everyone here wants? You need not tell me; I can see your hearts and minds. Set aside your differences and work together to fight and survive!”

The Berondin elder fell silent after the rebuke.

However, the Black God added, “Besides, once everything settles down and you are victorious, I’m sure that your forest kin will look back at your actions with gratitude. Your conflict with them will end. But first, we’ll have to settle in and weather the worst.”

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***The training camps of the Elvish Expeditionary Force, five days before sailing to Cherwoods…***

For several weeks after the incident at the Maverny wharf, the recruits of the New Elebor-New Guriev regiment underwent discipline and firearms training, much to their ugly shock. Many of the elves didn’t expect the harsh words thrown at them by their officers, most of whom were veteran mercenaries, and even the way they were taught to fight using a ‘bolt-heater rifle’. They all thought the battles their siblings and friends fought in the past could still be found today. It was only when they began the military exercises at the beaches of Amaranth, that the young elves realized they were in for a different kind of war.

“Move! If you don’t keep on moving, the enemy will kill you,” bellowed the officer with them. “Stay at the back of the tank if you don’t want to get skewered by elvish arrows!”

With the ‘designated magicians’ leading them, the soldiers of the New Elebor-New Guriev regiment followed the makeshift tank made of wood as they crossed the simulated beach battlefield. The commanders of the expeditionary army also created explosions nearby, trying to imitate the ‘possible’ enemy bombardment using catapults, and magic spells. While it did take them some time to get used to the sounds and sights of a gunpowder battle, the elves did get used to it.

As if a strange turn of events, Behrien and Glamden were assigned to the same battalion, and the same squad as well. They both held rifles, though with the latter’s height, he was assigned to carry extra replacements for the barrels of his group’s bolt-heaters. The smaller elf was expected to fight, but only when things were desperate.

“Incoming arrows!”

Because of his role in his team, Glamden was often given the place near the back of the tank, as they practiced the assault. No one in his squad wanted their ‘carrier elf’ to get killed in first try, so it’s either he rode inside the vehicle, or march behind, much to his dismay. The elf wanted to be in the frontlines, after all.

“Disembark! Go! Go! Go!”

Upon the orders of their squad leader, the elves inside the makeshift tank jumped to the sand, while those following outside scattered. Dashing towards the foot of the enemy defenses, by this part of the exercise, they were judged according to how fast they reached the ‘covers’, braving the ‘enemy’ arrows and bombardment. Even if it was just practice, hitting the beaches with real magic and arrows raining on them was enough to tell Glamden and Behrien’s squad that they should take the exercise seriously. Once they got to their ‘disembarkation’ point, they all went for cover.

“Behrien,” their squad leader asked, looking around. “Where’s our carrier?”

“Why are you asking me—ow!” One slap to the elf’s face was enough to bring Behrien back to reality.

“I’m your commanding officer! Answer me with respect, stupid elf!”

“S-Sorry sir! I don’t know his whereabouts, sir—ow!”

“Don’t give me that kind of reply! Find him, and fast!”

Behrien wanted to throw a fist to his commander, who was actually the oldest of his friends back in the village. However, he had to play along, as their regiment officer always reminded them to take the simulation seriously. So, even with all the arrows and magic spells flying down, the elf dashed back to where they came from.

“!!!”

He found their ‘carrier elf’ lying on the sand, swamped by the heavy equipment on his back.

“What are you doing?” Behrien pulled him up and helped him seated. “The commander is looking for you, don’t just sleep there!”

“Well, if you’re going to nag me about it, then won’t you try sharing my load?” Glamden answered back, dusting himself. “I fell on the sand, and it’s quite difficult to maintain my balance!”

Behrien heaved a sigh. Then, he slung his rifle on his back, and grabbed some equipment from Glamden. “You better not do this to us when we’re going in for the real thing. You’re going to get us killed, you know?”

The smaller elf was silent. Though he’s annoyed at Behrien, he couldn’t deny that his words were true. Now that he was made aware why he got rejected, Glamden would like to back out of his commitment. However, by this time, no one could take his enlistment back; not only did he invested much for him to back out, the trouble he stirred at the Maverny wharf earned him a huge debt to the Duke of Maverny himself, who took care of his expenses.

“Hurry!” Behrien prodded him. “And don’t get shot by the arrows!”

But the weight of Glamden’s pack, combined with the soft sand, slowed them down. He vented out his frustrations by shouting, “I-I’m trying!”

From their covers, their fellow friends called out to them, urging the two to make a dash as the ‘enemy’ arrow fires intensified. Glamden, pushing himself to the limits, finally felt his knees buckled in, and he fell on the sand once again. Behrien, who was equally tired, was forced to drag his companion to safety.

However…

“Argh!” An arrow finally struck him at the back, causing Behrien to stumble. While the activated ‘substitution dolls’ ensured that they won’t get killed or injured during the simulation, it was still painful to receive an arrow wound.

“Behrien!” Glamden blurted out, crawling to his side. Then, in an effort to protect him, the little elf turned his back towards their enemies, effectively using the backpack filled with their spare equipment to shield themselves from the barrage.

And finally…

“!!!”

A shrill whistle echoed across the beaches, signifying the end of the simulation. An officer at an observation post near them declared, “New Elebor Squad 3 time: 7 minutes. Casualties: two, including the carrier. Efficiency rate: 95%.”

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***The Saint’s Palace, Holy Palatial Gardens, hours before the ‘Elvish Expeditionary Force’ departed for Cherwoods…***

The Lady Hinwe Tal-Inwir could still remember the words of the previous saint, the Lady Enhaine, when she anointed the former as her successor…

“You’ll be a great leader of our people someday, Hinwe. Do not run from your destiny.”

Ever since she said those to the Lady Hinwe, it’s always been in her heart…guiding her every decision and plans. She toiled to improve her people’s lives. The current Elf Saint aspired to be the ‘great leader’ the Lady Enhaine said she was meant to be.

However, everyone knew what happened to the Lady Hinwe. Who could blame her? All the things she intended for good was taken for granted, and her people hated their holy lady when she tried to draw the limits.

Then, the Lady Hinwe found solace in the books—those mangas, and some animes—the Lord Gaius brought her. While taking a break from everything to heal herself, she slowly forgot the words of the Lady Enhaine. For the Lady Hinwe, previous saint’s decision to let her be the successor was wrong, since for every decision the Lady Hinwe took back then, the elves would hate her even more. So, she built a wall around herself and focused on those characters that seemed to be so cheerful and carefree.

But…even when the Lady Hinwe was hurt, she was still the saint. Even when she didn’t want to get up and just sleep unto the next age, she was still entrusted the holy guidance of the elves. The Elf Saint fell into her own trap, unable to get back and rule properly. Thus, her officials exploited her absence, and the elves’ realm weakened. Looking back, though she got every reason to just drop everything and move on with life, she still held on to that small hope that someday, sometime later, she would get that lost motivation to lead her people.

Just like in those mangas she read…

“…”

However, this was the real life, and the wait was long. As the ages passed and new generations of elves were born, so was her hope slowly wasted away, like a burning candle. The Lady Hinwe got used to such decadent life, she didn’t care anymore. If her world ended at that point, then so be it. Her people accused her of uselessness, then useless she shall be…

Until Kuro appeared…

The Lady Hinwe hated his guts. She hated his meddling in her peaceful life behind the doors of her private chambers. Yet, that human kept on pushing for her to return, no matter how much she told him she didn’t like it. Even if she rejected him thousands of times, he’d always come back to pull or push her.

“If you won’t wake up from your sleep, I’ll break your laptop so it won’t open again!”

“Fuck you! Don’t enter my room with my permission!”

“If I asked for your permission, you’d be long dead before we find your body! You won’t even open your doors if we knock!”

The Elf Saint could only glare at him back then, as he pulled her out of her isolation. Swearing he’d only waste his time on her, the Lady Hinwe tried her best to piss him off. Make him give up. But, what can she say? This guy was definitely weird; not only did he waited on her patiently, he even gave her back her friend and blood-sister, Meanor. And for what cost? Nothing! Could a human—well-known for their double dealings—give something dear to them, and yet ask for nothing? Only Kuro did that to her…

“!!!”

It’s time for her to answer Kuro’s sentiments. The Lady Hinwe of today will not run from her destiny anymore…

The gilded doors of the Saint’s Palace opened before her, and on the other end of the hall was the Human Saint, the Lady Madelaine. Flanking her were the Beastman Saint, the Lady Ruro, the Demon Saint, the Lady Natasha, and the Overseer Saint—standing by the side pillar to the left, the Lady Seirna. As she approached them, the Lady Madelaine stood up, and welcomed the Elf Saint with a curtsy. With them were her head maid, the Princess Lilyhaven of Nerfes, and the captain of the Human Saint’s Paladin Corps, the Lady Sylvia, Duchess of Henristone.

“Welcome back, Your Holiness, the Lady Hinwe!” was the Lady Madelaine’s greeting. “I trust that everything is ready for your return?”

“I think that’s not even a question, Maddie,” the Lady Ruro told her. “Look at her face; that’s the eyes of someone filled with determination.”

“Sir G really did well in helping you find yourself, milady,” the Lady Natasha added.

“Well, of course!” the Lady Hinwe chuckled. “Kuro’s annoying antics and constant nagging would really prod me—or anyone—to ‘heal’ themselves quickly.”

“I totally understand you on that,” the Lady Seirna laughed, which was also followed by the others. However, they eventually returned to the topic at hand…

“Nevertheless, I can’t keep going like this forever,” the Elf Saint told them. “Everyone in this place helped me, even as we are strangers before. And Kuro…he sacrificed a lot to awaken my desire to become who I should be. As an elf who’s proud of her heritage, I can’t ignore everyone’s feelings anymore. I have to step up.”

“You’ll always have our support,” Lily told her.

“Lady Hinwe Tal-Inwir, Holy Custodian of the Waters of Cherwoods,” the Human Saint extended her hand to give the Elf Saint her blessings. “May the heavens bless you, and those who’ll fight in your name, complete victory over your foes.”

“Thank you for waiting for me, Your Holinesses,” she replied, bowing before everyone in gratitude. “From this moment on, I—the Elf Saint, Hinwe Tal-Inwir—shall claim my rightful throne and authority once again!”