NO LONGER TIED DOWN BY THEIR HOMELANDS, THE TRIBES ATTACKED WITH RUTHLESS PRECISION. THEY EVEN BEGAN TARGETING THE POWERFUL ARCHMAGES THEMSELVES, UNDERSTANDING THAT WITHOUT THEIR SPELLCASTERS, THE ELVES WOULD LOSE THEIR EDGE. HIT-AND-RUN ATTACKS BECAME COMMONPLACE, AND EACH SKIRMISH SEEMED TO DRAIN THE ELVES' PHILOSOPHER'S STONE RESERVES FURTHER.
THEN CAME THE MOST DEVASTATING BLOW, THE SECRET WAS OUT.
THE TRIBES HAD UNCOVERED THE TRUE HEART OF THE ELVEN WAR EFFORT: THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE SUPPLY LINES. NOW, THEIR PRIMARY FOCUS BECAME AMBUSHING AND DESTROYING THE STONE TRANSPORT CARAVANS, CUTTING OFF THE LIFEBLOOD OF THE ELVEN WAR MACHINE.
"DID THE SECRET LEAK?" ONE ELVEN OFFICER ASKED, EYES WIDE WITH DISBELIEF AS YET ANOTHER SHIPMENT WENT MISSING.
THE ANSWER WAS CLEAR. THE ELVES' GREATEST ADVANTAGE WAS NOW THEIR GREATEST VULNERABILITY, AND THE OTHER RACES, ONCE ON THE DEFENSIVE, WERE CLOSING IN.
EVEN THOUGH MOST OF THE ELVEN TRANSPORT TEAMS WERE HEAVILY ARMED AND ESCORTED, THE COALITION FORCES HAD BEGUN TO GROW BOLDER. WHEN LEGENDARY LEADERS SUCH AS THE BRAM THE GREAT OR THE DRAGON COMMANDER LIMULUS LED THE ASSAULTS, EVEN THE BEST-GUARDED CARAVANS STOOD LITTLE CHANCE. MANY OF THESE CRUCIAL SHIPMENTS, CARRYING THE PRECIOUS PHILOSOPHER'S STONES, WERE PLUNDERED IN DARING RAIDS.
THE COALITION, ONCE SCRAMBLING TO HOLD THEIR GROUND, HAD NOW TURNED THE TIDE. THEIR SPELLCASTERS, THOUGH FEWER IN NUMBER AND STILL LACKING THE REFINED TECHNIQUES OF THE ELVES, HAD BEGUN USING PHILOSOPHER'S STONES THEMSELVES. WHILE THEIR METHODS WERE CRUDE, THE COALITION HAD SOMETHING THE ELVES HAD NOT EXPECTED: ABUNDANT HIGH-LEVEL COMBAT RESOURCES. IN KEY REGIONS, THE COALITION'S SUPERIOR FORCES CREATED UNDENIABLE ADVANTAGES, TIPPING THE BALANCE OF POWER.
SOME ELVEN TRIBES, OVERCONFIDENT IN THEIR EARLY VICTORIES, FOUND THEMSELVES OVERWHELMED AND CAPTURED. WORSE YET, THE COALITION SEIZED ENTIRE "ALCHEMY TOWERS" ALONG WITH THEIR ELVEN TECHNICIANS. WITH ACCESS TO THE ELVES' PRECIOUS TECHNOLOGY, THE COALITION'S TOP SPELLCASTERS BEGAN USING RAW ORE IN EARNEST.
WAR, AS ALWAYS, THRIVES ON ADAPTATION. NO MATTER HOW ADVANCED ONE SIDE'S TECHNOLOGY MIGHT BE, ONCE IT'S STOLEN, THE OTHER SIDE QUICKLY CATCHES UP. WHAT THE ELVES THOUGHT WOULD BE A QUICK, THREE-MONTH CAMPAIGN TO CONQUER THE WORLD WAS RAPIDLY CRUMBLING.
THE WAR ESCALATED DRAMATICALLY.
BY THE FIFTH MONTH, REINFORCEMENTS ARRIVED FOR ALL SIDES. THE ELVES, SEEKING TO REGAIN THE UPPER HAND, BOLSTERED THEIR TRANSPORT TEAMS WITH ELITE PROTECTION. THESE HEAVILY ARMED CONVOYS WERE NOW ACCOMPANIED BY THE SONS OF THE SAGES, ELVES WHO WERE REVERED AS THE "GODS OF THE NEW ERA." ARMED WITH ANCIENT ARTIFACTS, THESE NEW REINFORCEMENTS REPRESENTED AN EXTRAORDINARY FORCE THAT WAS EXPECTED TO ONCE AGAIN SWING THE BATTLEFIELD IN FAVOR OF THE ELVES.
BUT THIS TIME, THE RESULTS WERE NOT WHAT THE ELVES HAD HOPED FOR.
THE COALITION, EVER ADAPTABLE, HAD ALREADY ANTICIPATED SUCH REINFORCEMENTS. THEY SIMPLY ADJUSTED THEIR TACTICS, FOCUSING ON GUERILLA WARFARE: "IF YOU CHASE ME, I RETREAT; IF YOU REST, I HARASS." THEY AVOIDED DIRECT CONFRONTATION WITH THE NOBLE PRINCE'S AND THEIR POWERFUL ARTIFACTS. THE WAR, THOUGH STILL BRUTAL, CONTINUED AS IT HAD BEFORE, WITH NO SIGNIFICANT ADVANTAGE GAINED BY THE ELVES.
ANXIETY BEGAN TO CREEP THROUGH THE RANKS OF THE ELVES. THE STEADY STREAM OF BAD NEWS ONLY WORSENED THEIR MORALE. EVERY DAY, MORE AND MORE ELVEN TERRITORIES, UNPROTECTED BY THE NOBLE PRINCE, FELL TO THE COALITION. WORSE, THE COALITION HAD BEGUN CAPTURING VAST STORES OF RAW ORE AND WAS USING THEM TO FUEL THEIR WAR MACHINE. IN SOME PREVIOUSLY SAFE REGIONS, THE COALITION HAD EVEN SET UP FACILITIES TO MASS-PRODUCE THESE CRUDE STONES, FURTHER ESCALATING THE CONFLICT.
BOTH SIDES HAD DESCENDED INTO A FRENZY OF RESOURCE CONSUMPTION. THE BATTLEFIELD WAS LITTERED WITH "DEAD SOULS", BEINGS WHOSE SPIRITS WERE HARVESTED TO BE CONVERTED INTO RAW ORE BEFORE THEY COULD ENTER THE CYCLE OF REINCARNATION. THESE STONES WERE THEN USED AGAIN TO POWER SPELLS AND MACHINERY, CREATING AN ENDLESS CYCLE OF DESTRUCTION. THE PHENOMENON OF SOULLESSNESS, ONCE CONFINED TO THE FROZEN NORTH, HAD NOW SPREAD TO EVERY CORNER OF THE WORLD. MONSTERS AND UNNATURAL DISASTERS BEGAN APPEARING EVERYWHERE, SIGNS OF A WORLD UNRAVELING.
DESPERATION DROVE BOTH SIDES TO COMMIT UNSPEAKABLE ACTS. ON THE BATTLEFIELD, PRISONERS OF WAR WERE MASSACRED IN FRONT OF THE ALCHEMY TOWERS, THEIR SOULS HARVESTED TO PRODUCE MORE RAW ORE. AS ONE SIDE COMMITTED ATROCITIES, THE OTHER WAS SURE TO RETALIATE. THE LINE BETWEEN RIGHT AND WRONG BLURRED UNTIL IT VANISHED COMPLETELY. WAR HAD CONSUMED EVERYTHING, LEAVING ONLY CHAOS AND HORROR IN ITS WAKE.
IT WAS AS IF THE WORLD ITSELF WAS CRYING OUT IN PAIN, LIKE THE DESPERATE, ECHOING ROAR OF A SNOWY OWL IN THE DEAD OF WINTER. NOTHING COULD STOP THE BLOODSHED NOW.
BUT AMIDST THE MADNESS, HELIAN AND HIS "GROUP" ARRIVED IN A CITY STILL HELD BY THE ELVES. THEIR MISSION WAS BOTH DANGEROUS AND CRITICAL, ONE THAT COULD CHANGE THE COURSE OF THE WAR. THEY MOVED IN SILENCE THROUGH THE ELVEN CITY, THEIR EYES SHARP AND WARY.
"CORMETHIUS, ARE YOU HERE?" HELIAN'S VOICE WAS LOW, STEADY, BUT THERE WAS A TENSION BENEATH IT. THE ANSWER TO THAT QUESTION COULD DETERMINE THE FATE OF THEIR MISSION, AND PERHAPS, THE FUTURE OF THE ENTIRE WAR.
THE STREETS WERE IMMACULATE, WITH FLOORS PAVED IN GLEAMING MARBLE, SCULPTURES THAT SEEMED TO COME ALIVE WITH THEIR BEAUTY, AND AN ATMOSPHERE OF SUCH PEACE AND HARMONY THAT IT FELT MORE LIKE A WELL-KEPT GARDEN THAN A BUSTLING CITY.
"IS THIS THE LEGENDARY SAPPHIRE CITY?" BASTIAN MURMURED TO HIMSELF, AS A WAVE OF CONFLICTING EMOTIONS WASHED OVER HIM THE MOMENT HE CROSSED THE CITY'S THRESHOLD.
EVERYTHING ABOUT THE PLACE SEEMED TO EXUDE SERENITY. THE CITY WAS PRISTINE AND EXPANSIVE, ITS CITIZENS STROLLING ABOUT WITH CALM COMPOSURE. CHILDREN LAUGHED AND PLAYED, THEIR INNOCENCE ADDING TO THE TRANQUILITY. ELVEN ADULTS MOVED GRACEFULLY, ATTENDING TO THEIR TASKS WITH EFFORTLESS EASE. YET, IT WAS THIS VERY SENSE OF EASE THAT LEFT BASTIAN FEELING UNSETTLED.
JUST BEYOND THE GATES, THE SCENE WAS ONE OF DESPERATION. REFUGEES WERE HUDDLED TOGETHER, THEIR RAGGED CLOTHES CLINGING TO THEIR STARVED BODIES. THEIR CRIES OF ANGUISH FILLED THE AIR AS THEY PLEADED FOR SANCTUARY. OUTSIDE, THE WORLD WAS UNRAVELING, BUT WITHIN THESE WALLS, LIFE CONTINUED AS THOUGH NOTHING WAS AMISS.
THE STREETS WERE LIVELY. BARDS STRUMMED THEIR LYRES, SINGING MERRY TUNES AS IF THE HORRORS OF THE OUTSIDE WORLD WERE BUT A DISTANT MEMORY. IN THE TAVERNS, ELVEN DANCERS TWIRLED GRACEFULLY, DELIGHTING THE DRINKERS WITH THEIR ELEGANT MOVEMENTS. SUNLIGHT BATHED THE CITY IN WARMTH, BIRDS SANG SWEETLY, AND FLOWERS BLOOMED VIBRANTLY. EVEN MAGICAL INSTRUMENTS PLAYED THEMSELVES IN THE BACKGROUND, ADDING TO THE DREAMLIKE ATMOSPHERE.
THE ONLY SIGN OF WAR WAS THE PECULIAR PRESENCE OF FOREIGN OBJECTS SCATTERED HERE AND THERE. BUT EVEN THAT SEEMED LIKE AN ODD SPECTACLE RATHER THAN A REMINDER OF VIOLENCE.
IN FRONT OF BASTIAN, A SCENE UNFOLDED THAT MADE THE SURREAL CONTRAST EVEN SHARPER. A MECHANICAL PUPPET DRAGGED THE MASSIVE FORM OF A FALLEN FIRE GIANT ACROSS THE STREET. ONCE FEARSOME, HIS MIGHT HAD BEEN STRIPPED AWAY. HIS BREATHS WERE LABORED, EACH ONE A PAINFUL EFFORT. THIS WAS A PARADE OF WAR TROPHIES, AND THE CITY'S RESIDENTS WATCHED WITH A MIX OF CURIOSITY AND DISDAIN, AS THOUGH THEY WERE WITNESSING SOMETHING RARE AND EXCITING.
SMALL FLAGS FLANKED THE GIANT, PROUDLY ANNOUNCING HIS PAST TITLES: "THE EXPLODING MAD KING," "NANFRAN'S NIGHTMARE," "CHIEF OF THE MAGMA DRAGON GIANT TRIBE." ONCE A RULER OF FIRE AND FURY, NOW REDUCED TO A PITIFUL SHADOW OF HIS FORMER SELF.
BEHIND HIM, THE SPOILS OF WAR CONTINUED, A MACABRE PROCESSION. CAGES FILLED WITH DRAGONBORN AND DWARVES, THEIR EYES HOLLOW AND DEFEATED, WERE PARADED THROUGH THE STREETS. WAGONS CARRYING PRIMITIVE WEAPONS, PRECIOUS MITHRIL, AND HEAPS OF GOLD ORE FOLLOWED.
AS THE ELVEN WARRIORS IN SHINING GOLDEN ARMOR RODE ON CHARIOTS, THEIR TIRED FACES BARELY CONCEALING THEIR EXCITEMENT, THEY THREW HANDFULS OF GOLD COINS TO THE ONLOOKERS. WHAT BEGAN AS MURMURED CONVERSATION AMONG THE CROWD SOON SWELLED INTO JOYFUL CHEERS. VICTORY HAD RETURNED, AND THE CITY REVELED IN IT.
ELF MAIDENS SHOWERED THE RETURNING WARRIORS WITH FLOWERS, WREATHS DRAPED AROUND THEIR NECKS. ONE PARTICULARLY SPIRITED GIRL RUSHED FORWARD AND KISSED THE LEAD WARRIOR, HER FACE FLUSHED WITH ADMIRATION. THE SCENE WAS IDYLLIC, ALMOST TOO PERFECT.
BUT BASTIAN'S GAZE DARKENED AS IT FELL UPON A CAGE IN THE CENTER OF THE PROCESSION. INSIDE WERE MORE ELVES, "POINTED EARS", BUT THEY WERE DIFFERENT. THEIR EXPRESSIONS WERE VACANT, THEIR SPIRITS BROKEN. EVEN AS THEIR KIN RIDICULED THEM, THEY DIDN'T REACT.
"DISGUSTING SCUM," SOMEONE SNEERED.
"LOOKS LIKE THE COLOSSEUM'S GOT SOME NEW ENTERTAINMENT. LET'S GO TOMORROW!" ANOTHER CHIMED IN EAGERLY.
"THEY'RE TRASH," A THIRD SAID DISMISSIVELY. "I HEARD THEY'VE BEEN HIDING OUT WITH THOSE LOWBORN RACES."
THESE ELVES WERE NUMB, INDIFFERENT TO THE SCORN DIRECTED AT THEM, AS IF THE FIGHT HAD LONG SINCE BEEN BEATEN OUT OF THEM.