"And by decree of the royal Emperor of Sarydon, all races of which do not belong amongst men and mere mortals are to be killed on sight and banished from the lands. Anyone found bearing a mark that symbolizes anything like these banished races shall be prosecuted and sentenced to hang by their necks until death. Any children found with these markings-"
Celoa cringed. Grabbing her ears, she fled into a dark alley way, to where no one knew. She ran until the fiery pain in her legs took over, but even then she ran --
Celoa gasped for air as she jolted up in bed, clutching her throat with one hand. Her nightgown was drenched in sweat. It wasn't unusual for her to have nightmares of her past, but normally they didn't leave her this horrified. The time was coming; soon the emperor would call on her. That much she knew, that much her senses told her.
Getting up and opening the blinds that covered her barred windows, Celoa stared out at the newly placed damage. Over night, kids had vandalized the building across from hers in what the historian's had called "spray paint", whatever that was. And not that they were good artists, not in the least.
Grumbling, she walked out of her bedroom and into her tattered main area. The far wall of her living room had been blown to bits in a modern day testing of more of this "Earth" material. Her building was not the only like this, the rest of the city resembled the ruins of a once powerful palace.
It hadn't always been like this. Once, man, elves and dwarves lived in harmony amongst one another. Their bond was unbreakable, their land impenetrable. It was only when five men came carrying five large, leather bound books that everything changed. The humans began to reject the ways of the elves and dwarves, and all of their creatures. Peace was no more. These "historian's" had brought "Earth" upon us. And only the true knowledgeable knew that "Earth", was only another word for war.
Celoa stood at the edge of the hole that covered half of her living area. Pulling her hair over her pricked ears so as to hide them, she stole back into her bedroom to put more clothing on. Contemplating a shower, her thoughts were interrupted by a rough rasp at the door.
"It's open," Celoa said, as she always did instead of answering the door. If someone were here to kill her, she would either take her death willingly or kill them first. Nothing could take her off guard, she was over a century old. Unlike these mortal men.
"Miss Celoa Ra-...Celoa Ral-" Celoa walked down her hallway, only half dressed, and met a pair of men dressed in silver robes.
"And what business would a pair of the emperor's thugs have with me?" She asked, grabbing a piece of paper one of them was handing to her. "The emperor wishes to audience with me?"
