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         The elves of Stonevale had never witnessed a darker night; the sky was a sheet of black, and the suffocating darkness only seemed to grow more oppressive as a gloomy fog circled ominously above the large stones that made up the city's barriers. The stars had hidden their faces, unable to watch their children's failure. This time the Starseekers had delved too deeply into the magic they drew from their patrons in the sky, and the once-beautiful city of stone was soon to be in ruin. Queen Esta had believed that the end attained would justify the means, but she was made keenly aware of her grave mistake the moment that first incipient cauldron began to bubble, and now, as the malevolent creatures continued to multiply, all the Starseekers were aware of the gravity of the deed, the mixing of impure and pure blood. Their ruination came from their own creation, and no mercy would be shown for their impetuous actions.
         Two dark blue eyes watched the scene unfold. The elfling Ryllae peered around the stone column that served as her hiding place. Her large eyes widened, and her knuckles turned white as she tightened her grip on the column, hoping that it could keep her rooted, keep her from floating away and losing herself completely. Having no power yet herself, she was forced to watch helplessly as her friends and family uselessly attempted to bring their creations to submission. The Starseekers' power was noticeably the weaker of the two, and the horrid creatures refused to be tamed. The flurry of images before her was overwhelming, and Ryllae focused on the scene nearest her. She watched as a she-elf attempted to create a stone cage to trap one of the monsters. She bent her body almost in half, curled her hands into fists, muttered an incantation, and jerked into an upright position uncurling her hands and thrusting them out toward the creature. The stone ground ripped away from the earth and wrapped around the creature, trapping it. Its exact image in the form of stone remained in its place, mouth wide-open in rage and claws extended, ready to tear, ready to kill.
         The elf stumbled backward and collapsed in an exhausted heap on the ground. Her long white hair, now streaked with dirt and blood, spread out and covered her face. Ryllae's eyes shifted; many elves were attempting similar feats, but more elves fell than monsters, and the abominations continued to multiply at an alarming rate. Even little Ryllae was aware that the Starseekers could not prevail. One-by-one the creatures rose out of the huge stone kettles occupying the city square while the black liquid contained inside bubbled and popped. With searching eyes, Ryllae watched the ebullition of the one nearest her. She jumped as a long claw-like hand unexpectedly reached up out of the sludge, extended toward the sky for a moment before grasping the edge of the basin; the other hand followed its brother, and the newborn creature slowly pulled its body from the mire. A nauseating stench reached Ryllae, making her recoil, yet she could not tear her eyes away from the repelling scene. The large, hulking figure had skin like black rotting flesh, and the black muck it had emerged from still hung in oozing strings and clumps from the body.
          Its red bloodshot eyes turned sharply in her direction, and with a gasp she released her tight hold on the stone column and backed deeper into the unknown shadows behind her. Hardly daring to breath, she continued to slowly and quietly back further into the darkness. Fear caused her whole body to shake, and when her shaking legs made it difficult to walk, she sunk to the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them tightly to her chest. She clenched her eyes shut and rocked back and forth. It's just a dream. She thought. It has to be. This cannot be real.
         Ryllae felt the touch of a strong hand on her shoulder, and suddenly regaining her strength, she leapt to her feet and turned around in alarm, looking up with panicked eyes into those of her assailant. The flustered elfling took longer than usual to assess the situation and immediately jumped to the conclusion that one of the vile things must have found her; she closed her eyes, bracing herself for its attack.
         "Ryllae!" It said. Her eyes once again flew open.
         The once-familiar voice was now lugubrious, but Ryllae recognized the undertone of comfort that this same voice had at one time constantly communicated every time it spoke to her, and the hazy mist of confusion cleared from her eyes.
         "Father!" She yelled and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. She could not recall ever feeling such relief after such terror; he was her comfort, her rock, yet the horror of the situation still remained, and she forced herself to withdraw her tight grasp and look up with big, questioning eyes into the dark purple eyes of her father. She focused on his face, her eyes adjusting quickly despite the darkness, and what she saw frightened her. His features were taut and covered with gore, and beneath the gore, fear and despair were etched as if they had always been there, a permanent feature of his face. The new expression was so intense that Ryllae found it difficult to picture the serene expression that had once been so familiar to her.
         "Ryllae," He whispered urgently, brushing a long strand of dark brown hair out of her eyes, "You are our only hope. Make for Greenvale; warn our brothers of our treachery." He looked up as if lost deep in thought, and not meeting her eyes, he murmured,  "May the stars keep the last innocent of Stonevale safe." He sounded unsure of the candor of these words.
         Frantic and afraid, Ryllae was shaking her head fiercely before her father had even finished speaking, and the second he was finished, she implored him to go with her if she herself must go.
.          "Papa, please" The small child begged, her words barely coming out as a whisper. She could no longer contain the tears that had so long threatened to spill over her eyelids. She once again shook her head roughly, and with the motion, tears poured freely out of her wide, innocent eyes.
         Her father sighed and looked down. The pain written on his face seemed to intensify. What he was making himself do was already difficult enough, and though he knew he could not, he was severely tempted to give in to her pleading. As he often did when deep in thought, he ran a hand through his snow-white hair. But this time the hands were bloody from the battle, and the familiar movement left gory streaks. When he finally looked up again, his dark purple eyes were gleaming. He forced himself to reply in the way that he knew he must.
         "I cannot." His voice cracked as he rasped out his answer. He was not innocent, and though he longed to go with his daughter, he knew he must face the consequences of the sin along with his brothers and sisters.
         He placed a small pack filled with scant supplies and food, just enough for her to make the long journey, on Ryllae's back. His stained hands left marks that tainted the pack with gore just as they had tainted the once-comforting memory of her father running his hand through his hair. Though Ryllae was not entirely sure of all the details of the current situation, she was sure that it had deeply affected her father, had changed him completely, and he would never be the same.
         "I love you, Ryllae. Be strong. Salif." He touched two fingers to her forehead as he murmured the salubrious elven word of parting. He then leaned down and kissed her forehead softly. He felt sure he would never see his daughter again, and he prayed that she did not know enough to experience the same feeling. A chilling scream filled the air, and he looked up in alarm.
         "Go now. Quickly." He said turning back sharply to Ryllae with the now ever-present fear magnified in his eyes. Eyes that had once contained nothing but tranquility.
         The now-unhesitatingly complaisant child ran into the darkness almost blindly, hardly seeing where she was going, for tears blurred her vision, and the stars were of no help. Despite her inability to ignore the sounds of combat and death filling the air, she never looked back. She had witnessed things she never wanted to see again, and even though her sobs shook her whole body, she continued to run through the night, far away from her homeland, far away from her family, her fellow Starseekers, never to return. The sound of the slaughter continued for a long time, oppressively echoing over the seemingly empty expanse of desert land. Ryllae finally shoved her fingers in her ears attempting to block out the noise to no avail. In horror she realized that though the landscape she ran across now made no noise but silence, the sounds were ever-present; they had imbedded themselves into the very fiber of her mind. The screams of her people falling under their own creations would remain there forever, stored deep inside of her.