Unfortunate Beginnings

When the elves blinked into existence, along with the variants of beastkin, their arrival mirrored that of the dwarves: naked, curious, and adventurous.

But for most, that excitement was short-lived.

Among the beastkin, two primary races were generated, created for their specific climate. Harpies in the mountain regions, and lizard folk in the desert.

Unlike the elves, they faced fewer struggles.

The harpies quickly learned to hunt and locate water through instinct. They mated freely, their numbers growing slowly but steadily.

The lizard folk, though territorial and aggressive, had the advantage of natural resilience in the desert. Their scaled bodies retained water, their claws and teeth served as weapons, and their instincts carried them forward.

Both beastkin species remained primitive, however.

No stone tools. No baskets to gather. No shelters to shade them. Just pure instinct and the gifts of their bodies.

Elves were not so lucky.

Their initial arrival was boisterous and joyful, but as the second day ended and hunger grew, it was replaced with anger and despair.

During the day, they would roast. Their beautiful and delicate skin was gone, turning raw and darkening from the unforgiving sun.

At night, they would freeze. Some elves would conjure fire to keep them warm but at the cost of their energy.

Same with water. While it wasn't a direct correlation to vitality, creating water still consumed the user's energy and as a result, they were the first to fatigue and die.

One by one, elves collapsed and in their desperation for survival, they turned to the only source of food available.

Their own.

What started in the hundreds, fell to under a hundred.

Fallen corpses became their only sources of nourishment, delaying their immediate extinction but at the cost of their sanity.

Between the ravenous feasting, the elves noticed their eyes turning blood red. Was it a curse? A mark of cannibalism? For them, it mattered not.

It was by a miracle that they stumbled upon an oasis. Like something out of a fairy tale, or perhaps an answer to their desperate prayers, the oasis became their salvation.

Clear fresh water shimmering under the sun, surrounded by lush vegetation and a cave leading underground.

The damage was already done to their body and soul, however, and there wasn't enough food to support them for more than a day.

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Zark, a male dark-skinned elf with crystal red eyes, stood at the cave entrance, watching as several others entered dismissively.

Creatures cawed in the distance and his gaze lifted.

His eyes tracked one soaring in the distance. They tried launching spells up to capture or kill them, but they never flew close enough for their magic to reach.

This oasis, however, would be the exception.

'They need water just as much as we do,' Zark thought, his toes curling painfully in the sand. His brows furrowed. 'This is odd. We could be buried up to our waist in sand, yet here stands stone out in the open.'

Any intelligent creature would see this as shelter.

He voiced his concerns, but the desperate and reckless among them, calling him delirious from the heat, ignored his warning and ventured inside.

A sharp shove jolted him forward.

Myra, a fellow female dark-elf who had remained close to him since their arrival, met his fiery gaze.

"If you're right, they will die." Myra said coldly.

Zark scowled. "So what? They made their choice." His gaze flickered down to her hand that shoved him, "And don't touch me again. It hurts. Remember?"

"You should've tried harder to convince them," Myra continued unabated and not flinching.

Zark lets out a harsh laugh.

"We've lost too many. If they die-"

"Then they are dead," Zark snaps. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but the weak and stupid will not survive in this environment."

A tense silence followed.

Dark expressions and gazes were shared amongst the dark elves. Myra hesitated, her gaze dropping, her hand opening slightly. "I just thought that we should be more empathetic."

"We've eaten our own kin, Myra," Zark reminded her with a hardened gaze, causing her wince. "And we drank their blood. Whatever brought us to this world, it marked us for our actions."

Zark gestured toward his crystal-red irises, his grey sclera like ghosts of the past. He sighed, running a hand through his sweat-streaked hair.

"I don't want them to die. But their decisions-"

Hollow screams cut through the air, causing many of them to jump back, startled. The cry echoed out across the oasis and Zark finishes his sentence with a grim expression.

"-give the rest of us a chance."

Vibrations ripple outward, alerting the wandering dark-elves to the creature's emergence.

From the opening blackness of the stone cave, a grey, smooth-skinned beast slithered out on four, stubby legs, its webbed feet barely sinking on the sands.

Its long, spiked tail dragged behind it, scraping the stone as it stayed in the shadow of the cave's entrance.

A bloodied corpse dangled limply from its mouth before its jaws snapped, swallowing it whole.

Its vertical eyelids slid shut, shielding its glowing orange irises before snapping open again. A buffet was standing before its eyes. A dream come true!

Zzzzzt!

A sharp roar of pain echoed from the creature as a stone flew from the crowd, striking it directly in the eye.

The beast recoiled violently, hissing as it clawed at its face.

Eyes widened as all heads snapped toward Zark, who had thrown the stone himself.

"What are you all standing around for?!" he shouted. "Kill it, and we can eat it!"

Realization dawned. Without self-preservation for their energy, dozens of spells materialized and descended upon the salamander-like creature.

It screeched in agony as these spells rained down upon it, its body thrashing around violently while kicking up plumes of sand and dust.

With a final shuddering convulsion, it collapsed, unmoving. In a final act of revenge, however, or perhaps a dying reflex, its spiked tail lashed out.

It caught an unfortunate dark-elf who had attempted to close the distance, sending him flying back and innards spilling out in tangled ribbons across the sand.

Despite this, triumphant, hungry cheers erupted from the dark-elves. Saliva dripped from dark-elf mouths, their eyes gleaming with eager anticipation. For the first time since their arrival, their first full meal wouldn't be their own kin.

As the dark elves gather around the Salamander, Zark and Myra peered into the cave. There was a clear trail of blood leading toward a steep but climbable descent.

The iron-rich scent of fresh blood clung to the air, filling their lungs as they exchanged glances before stepping cautiously inside.

Normally, the depths of such a cavern would be impossible to navigate without light. But their eyes were altered, sharpened beyond natural limits, and adjusted quickly.

As they descended several meters, the cavern opened into a larger enclosure.

At its center, a cluster of eggs rested in eerie stillness.

Along the walls, tunnels branched off in all directions, their entrances large enough for any one of them to walk through with ease.

The passages stretched farther than their sight could reach, vanishing into endless darkness.

Zark clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

"Stupid fools," he muttered. "There was obviously something living here."

"If something that large was living here," Myra began with slow realization and Zark finished. "Then there's food in these caverns.

His gaze, calculating, swept over the enclosure. "It will be dangerous, but it's better than burning and starving to death. We'll have birds or other wandering creatures too."

Relieved and excited, Myra and Zark exchanged glances with rising hope before returning to their kin.

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The eggs began to hatch soon after their arrival.

Initially, they planned to cook and eat these little creatures. But after much debate, watching their incredible swiftness and ability to climb any surface with ease, Zark and Myra convinced the survivors to reconsider.

Instead of food, they saw opportunity. These creatures could be used, not consumed.

Fast modes of transportation though the tunnels, digging new paths, traveling the desert under the cover of night at speed- all became reality.

Above the Oasis, many species of birds and wandering reptilian creatures came seeking water.

Below, in the cavernous depths, beasts of the dark either became their enemies- or their tools.

The nightlight bugs were harvested, their bioluminescence guiding expeditions through the labyrinthine tunnels.

The spider silk became clothing, its tensile strength unmatched, while venoms were extracted and applied to weapons.

A new society shaped by survival took root. A place where only the strong thrived- and the weak were left behind.