Prologue - Not Today

The first memory Laverne Ingerman has is of his mother telling him someday he will die. The memory contained his mother weaving bright flowers into his hair while she sang a sad tune in a beautiful language. With the song's closing, she stroked his cheek and whispered something in his ear. A single tear slid down her cheek from her silver glistening eyes. The little elf was much too young to understand his mother's sorrow. It had been burned into Laverne's memory like a branded mark on his flesh, a permanent reminder.

A hundred thirty eight years later, the day that Laverne Ingerman's mother foretold came. The day he would die.

It didn't scare him, at first. Yet lying on the cobblestone roads of his city covered in blood he wasn't even sure was from his own veins instilled fear in him. He was going to die today.

Was it the thought of knowing he wouldn't exist after today? Or was it the fact that he was losing mass amounts of blood by the minute? He didn't know. He couldn't speculate on a reason. There were too many emotions mixing into one and somebody outside was thrashing the cauldron about, making it harder to discern what he had been feeling. His body was too numb.

Their swords had cut open his chest and the white bone of his ribcage was visible. Hell, if they looked close enough, they could see right through the fleshy bits to the other side of his body. Laverne Ingerman had collapsed to his knees in front of one of them. He reached a bloody hand out, shakily. Perhaps he was asking for mercy. Perhaps he'd planned to trick them if they took his hand. His long, slender fingers curled as he reached as far out as possible. His outstretched arm retracted as his body slumped to the ground. His other hand curled around the sword that sealed the darkness, a blade born of sun and fire. The one in front of him watched carefully, half expecting him to utter his last words.

Instead, the second Laverne Ingerman's fingers entwined with the sword's grip, the dying elf's eyes lit up a brilliant gold in unison with the elven rune symbols along the blade. He drifted into slumber as something else took hold, something otherworldly. And he said in the calmest effect that sent his once sweltering dread back at his enemies, "Not today."