Excruciating pain was the first thing that Axina remembered feeling. Flames all around her, yet her skin did not burn or fall off, but it hurt. By the Fire Lord, it hurt so much. It was her first Rebirth in over two centuries.

“Ah, Axina, what might have befallen you, seeing this mode of return to our hallowed halls?” the nasal voice of her leader, father, grandfather, great-grandfather, father of two of her children, Chosen of the Fire Lord, and the person she hated most in the world: Aymon the Immortal.

‘Correction, the person I hate the second-most in the world. That Summoned bastard who killed me is now on the top of the list,’ she thought as she stepped out of the Eternal Flames of the Fire Lord.

Looking around she found herself in the throne room of Sheelkadi, the throne upon which Aymon sat stood at the edge of the lava pool that was the backdrop of the throne room. The columns of dwarven craftsmanship, which were thousands of cycles old, were still crumbling; no apparent attempt of repairing them had been made since she had last been here over a decade ago.

The Eternal Flames of the Fire Lord, or sometimes just called the Flames of Rebirth, was placed upon a platform, the flames sustained by their God’s will alone. No fuel was needed to keep them burning, nor could they be extinguished as long as the Fire Lord existed. The platform was about twenty metres in front of the throne.

Unheeding of all the other elves in the room and her own nakedness, she walked proudly towards the throne. The soot of the flames barely noticeable on her dark skin. At a distance of four metres, she fell to her knees and kowtowed, placing her head upon the warm stone floor. Heated by the volcano that Sheelkadi was placed within.

“Chosen of the Fire Lord, I’ve failed our Great Lord. The probing raids at the northernmost human kingdom failed,” she said loudly. Trying to hide what had happened would be a bad idea.

“So I had heard, the Lord informed me of your imminent Rebirth, so I’ve brought your family here,” he said. He probably pointed somewhere, trying to catch her off guard. He liked playing games like that. If she had looked, she would have been disrespectful. Disrespect meant punishment. Punishment meant that she would serve in his harem until she had given birth to yet another one of his children.

“You’re well-disciplined my daughter, as behoves one of the Lord’s priests. Tell me then, why did you fail your mission then?” the man who had sired her demanded. Not asked, but demanded. The Chosen of the Fire Lord never asked or begged, he only demanded.

“I sought to capture one of those humans summoned to the world, to gather intel for the Alliance. He proved too much for me, and I was betrayed by one of the weak winged ones,” Axina said without hesitating.

“Is that all that led to failure and your death?” Aymon asked. If he asked, it meant that he knew the answer and was trying to trap her.

Cursing inside, but showing no emotion in her body language or her voice, she answered, “No, my need to be the first to kill or capture one of the summoned drove me to hasty decisions.”

“A flaw that cost the People four of our numbers.” The Chosen held a long pause, before continuing, “However, the fact that you’re here shows us that the humans have forgotten the power over life and death that the Fire Lord has.”

“Chosen, I also want to bring another point to your attention,” Axina said.

“Speak.”

Axina answered immediately to the demand, “There was no human priest in the camp. All told there was only one at the settlement we raided. At least according to the scouts.”

“The Fire Lord had mentioned that being a possibility. The human lifespan is so insignificantly short, as is their attention span. It would seem that our Rebirths have been forgotten by them, a valuable piece of information,” the Chosen said.

Axina knew better than to speak further. She had provided everything of value that she could. Next would be paying the price for the Rebirth. As soon as that had gone through her mind, the Chosen spoke again, “As all know, the Rebirth is not without its sacrifice. If a soul is denied to the Weave, another soul must take its place. Do you wish for me to pay the price, or will you provide the price?”

She shuddered at his voice. If he paid the price, she would be in his harem until she had given him two children, which would be his, not hers. Raising to her feet, she looked at the Chosen and calmly stated, “I’ll pay the price.”

Someone started crying, without looking she knew it was her three children she had with someone else than the Chosen. Without showing the least bit of emotion she walked over to where her family stood. Her eldest daughter was with child, the Chosen’s of course. All females’ first child was with the Chosen. So she could not be chosen.

Her choice was either her youngest daughter or her son. Her son had shown an aptitude for fire magic, not as good as being a priest, but it would bring glory to her family. Her youngest daughter had accomplished little, but she was favoured by her Consort. In these cases, it mattered little what her Consort thought. He was after all only there to provide her with children when she had the time.

“I pick my daughter, Anarzee,” Axina said loud and clear. Her daughter collapsed to her knees, while her other two children drew a deep breath of relief. “May she bring glory to the Fire Lord, so he can uphold the Covenants that binds the Gods.”

“Accepted by the Flames,” the Chosen said.

“By the Flames!” everyone else in the room repeated. Two guards grabbed her sobbing daughter. Crying by the sacrifice was okay, it was to be expected. It only tarnished the glory of the Fire Lord a little. It would be really bad if she started begging to be spared.

‘Good, she remembers her upbringing,’ Axina thought as the two men carried her daughter to the flames she had been reborn in just moments earlier. The men threw her into the Flames which flared up to five times the size it had previously been. The roar of them almost drowned out her daughter’s screams as the flames consumed her.

“The Price has been paid, the Balance restored, and the Covenants upheld,” the Chosen recited the ancient words. A phrase that was almost as old as he was. Everyone repeated them as one. Then they started filing out, and so did Axina.

Later that day in her home she was confronted by her Consort. He was screaming at her for the umpteenth time, “How dare you? She was my first child, my daughter! Our daughter!”

“Shut up, you insignificant worm,” Axina said tiredly.

“What did you just say to me?”

“I called you insignificant. Which you are,” Axina replied. “You got sub-par skills as a warrior, you got no talent for magic, you’re barely old enough to be considered an adult, and your job barely marks you as a man. The only reason why I took you as Consort was because of your good looks and that you’re adequate in bed. I think it’s time to find someone else.”

“What are you saying?” her Consort asked, suddenly sounding very small and afraid.

“That you’re leaving the house, and never coming back. Speak to our son, and you’ll find yourself in front of the Chosen,” she said.

“But—”

“I’ve spoken, now leave,” she growled and stood up. Before she could advance a single step towards the man, he turned and fled.

With a heavy sigh, she sat back down. She would have to find a new Consort. Luckily her daughter would give birth in a moon or two, and then she could be used to pay the price if Axina should fall in battle again. Not something she planned on doing, but the thought of staying in Sheelkadi while pregnant for the seventh time would be unbearable.

The days went by as Axina got re-acclimated to being back in Sheelkadi. The caverns and tunnels were emptier than they used to. Almost as empty as it had been two thousand cycles ago when she had been born.

She was browsing at the library, looking for something to occupy her time with until she got orders to report back to the Alliance Military headquarters for reassignment. Hopefully, by then their spies would know where the bastard who had killed her was. If he remained at his home, she would have to work hard to get an expedition mounted to go north.

The northern plains held little of value, and the orc tribes were always spoiling for a fight. Even if they had agreed to a truce while the Alliance was fighting against the humans. However, that only prevented raids on their camps. Not duels. She had to put down two orcs during their short trip to and stay in the north.

Her best hope for revenge was if he was assigned to the western front where the Alliance was trying to hold back the human scourge from the woodland realms. The second best would be if he was stationed at the mountain fort that the humans had managed to keep their hands on for so long. However, if he was sent there, the chances of her being the one to kill the bastard, became very slim.

Deep in her thoughts, she had almost drifted by the spot she wanted to come to. It was only the clear laughter of someone in the room behind the wall she was next to that stopped her. Whenever she was home she tried to get to the spot at least once a week. All so she could hear the voice of the one of her children that mattered: Shenarah, the daughter she had with the Chosen.

Shenarah was like Axina herself a priestess of the Fire Lord, meaning that her life had true value. She was just at the cusp of becoming an adult at fifty cycles. However, because it was a pregnancy she had as payment for establishing her own family, Shenarah was in the eyes of the People, not her daughter.

It would be proper to have no ties or emotional connection with the child, but when Axina had learned that her child was a priestess, she could not help but love the child. If only she had been born to her consort instead of the Chosen, everything would have been right in the world.

Instead, Axina was forced to skulk around the library just to catch the voice of her daughter during class. From time to time, she even managed to strike up conversations with her daughter while both were browsing the library.

She pulled down a book from the shelf and started leafing through it. From inside the classroom, she heard the voice of the teacher ask, “Who can tell me why the human gods are called the Betrayer Gods? Yes, you.”

“Because they started the First War and broke the Covenant of Peace between the races as overseen by all the Gods,” a young male voice answered. The standard and accepted answer.

“That’s right Jhaan, perfect answer,” the teacher said. There was a small pause, before she continued, “Yes Shenarah, what is it?”

“That’s not the whole answer,” Shenarah said. Axina's breath caught in her throat. It was the first time in a decade she heard her daughter’s voice, and it would seem she had grown rebellious.

“That’s batshit, it’s the answer that is in the textbook,” the male named Jhaan grumbled.

“Jhaan, language,” the teacher admonished. “So Shenarah, what was not included in the perfect answer?”

“The fact that the human gods stripped one of their own of some of her power and cast her out. Supposedly for starting the First War, but most of the non-human Gods believed the Goddess of Truth when she started telling her story,” Shenarah answered. Axina clenched her teeth. The answer was indeed correct, but it was from the section that only adults had access to.

“That’s not in any of the textbooks, where did you learn that?” the teacher asked coldly. “Did you read a book from the restricted section?”

“No, I overheard my father talk with someone a while ago,” her daughter said. Obviously lying. The Chosen never spoke of the time before the Fall. However, her daughter continued, “You know, Aymon the Immortal.”

“You’re not so special, Shenarah. You might be his daughter, but don’t forget yourself. Everyone in here is a descendant of the Chosen,” the teacher said. Axina released the breath she had been holding. The teacher had decided to move on, which showed when she asked, “Which brings us to another topic we’ll discuss in a moment. First, can anyone tell me what the outcome of the First War was?”

After being called upon, another young girl answered, “The humans lost, but it was a large war involving all the races but the dwarves. The orcs, beastkin, and merfolk made a small alliance that focused on raiding and plundering both the Alliance of the Immortals and the human scum. The giants and the fairies fought anyone who tried to use certain mountains or forests for strategic purposes.”

The girl took a deep breath before continuing, “While the Alliance was successful in subduing the humans and the raiders, it had cost them dearly. The wood elves, the sea elves, and the winged elves had lost large portions of their population in the fighting. We, the People, had fared better, because of the Rebirths allowed by our priests and priestesses, we became the largest elven nation ever seen. Built on the backs of the conquered as is only natural.”

“Long answer, but you hit the major points. Well done,” the teacher said. “Now who can tell me, how long did our proud civilization last?”

“One thousand, two hundred and thirty-nine cycles, two moons, and three days,” Shenarah answered without being acknowledged.

“Correct, but wait until you’re asked,” the teacher admonished coldly. “Why did our civilization Fall?”

A male answered after being recognized, “Because the treacherous humans had found a new weapon. One capable of wounding and killing the soul. Meaning they breached yet another Covenant.”

“Exactly, and what was that covenant called?” the teacher asked excitedly.

“Covenant of the Creator,” someone answered.

“And what’s in the Covenant of the Creator?”

Shenarah was finally called upon, making Axina's chest swell with pride. “The Covenant covers the duties of each of the Gods as Wardens, as well as the responsibility of the races to maintain a healthy world. Not stripping it of resources, no pollution, and so on. Also, all non-believers are to be converted, forcefully if necessary. Every living person must worship one of the gods.”

“Correct, but which of the duties did the Betrayer Gods breach? And why is it important that everyone worship one or more gods?” the teacher probed. Clearly not satisfied with a perfectly good answer. It rankled Axina that the teacher singled out her daughter like that, the material covered by that question was not part of the normal curriculum. It was elective reading.

However, her daughter answered immediately. “They broke the most sacred of the duties, that of Warden. All souls created by the world must be used to strengthen the Weave which holds the Destroyer trapped. Which is also why everyone must worship a god. If someone doesn’t, their soul dissipates and doesn’t make the journey to the higher realm where they can be included in the Weave. Same as when killed by one of the soul-destroying weapons.”

“Correct,” the teacher sounded a bit sour when her daughter knew the answer. “So the humans rebelled, using these soul-destroying weapons, meaning that the Fire Lord couldn’t Rebirth our priests and priestesses. The other races turned their backs to our plight, afraid of the humans’ new weapons. Which all led to the Fall. How many of our people survived the Fall?”

It was the one named Jhaan that got to answer again, “Only five. Aymon the Immortal and the four Mothers.”

“Which they were not called then. They were just priestesses that the Chosen of the Fire Lord managed to save,” the teacher corrected the stupid male. “Those five managed to bring back the People. We might be a shadow of our former selves, but for nearly five thousand years we’ve gathered our strength, and finally rejoined the fight against the human scourge. Now, for tomorrow I want you all to read the first five chapters about the Rebuilding. Class dismissed.”

Axina quickly moved away to another part of the library, so as not to be caught loitering near the classroom. However, she did move to a spot where she could see the students as they filed out of the room. With a frown, she saw that the teacher was locking the door, despite her daughter not having left yet.

“Interesting book?” a light voice whispered behind her.

Spinning around, she looked at the grinning face of her daughter. Somehow she had snuck out and managed to sneak up on her. She fought the large smile that threatened to break her stoic facade. In an uninterested voice, she said, “Yes, been too long since I’ve been able to enjoy the remnants of the Great Library.”

Shenarah looked around quickly, before darting forward and giving Axina a quick hug. “It’s good to see you, Mother.”

“Don’t call me that,” Axina hissed while trying to recall the feeling of her daughter’s arms around her.

Her daughter just gave her an impish smile, and said, “It saddens me that you were killed, but I’m happy that they didn’t use a weapon that could have harmed your soul.”

“So am I, it seems that they’ve forgotten,” Axina said absentmindedly, more focused on not giving her daughter the hug she really wanted to.

“I turn fifty in just three moons,” Shenarah said. “Will you be there for my feast?”

She shook her head. In a low whisper, she confided, “I’m heading out in the morrow. I just wanted to see you before I left.”

“Take me with you, or I can leave the day before my feast,” her daughter implored her.

“I can’t. Tradition dictates that all females coming of ages need to conceive their first child with the Chosen,” Axina recited.

“That’s not true. Before the Fall there was no such tradition,” Shenarah complained with a pout.

“But because of the Fall when only one man survived, we had to institute those traditions.”

Shenarah shook her head. “I don’t understand why we don’t bring in some fresh bloodlines from the other elves. The rate of stillborns and deformed children are growing.”

“Don’t speak heresy,” Axina hissed. “The purity of the People must remain true, just like the purity of the Flames.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Axina said firmly. “You’re going to do your duty. I’m going to do mine.”

Shenarah’s eyes started to tear up, and she whimpered, “Moth—”

In a loud voice, Axina interrupted her, “It was good seeing Shenarah, daughter of Aymon the Immortal, Chosen of the Fire Lord. Give my regards to OUR father.”

With that she strode away, her heart breaking at the crushed look on Shenarah’s face.

She had spent almost a moon traversing the Endless Sandsea which surrounded the volcano and small patch of farmable land that was the home of Sheelkadi. She travelled alone and on foot. After leaving the desert she had made her way to the town of Ofkadi, the only town the People had outside of Sheelkadi.

Calling Ofkadi a town would be doing a disservice to towns really. It was not even a village. Barely a hamlet. It was no more than five buildings, of which the most important was the giant trade house and the stable. The inn was of medium importance.

The last two buildings were houses that were home to people who had forsaken their sacred duty to the Fire Lord and taken up with other races. Abominations, but the Chosen had decreed that it was allowed, as long as they once a decade came back to Sheelkadi and sired a new child.

She had stayed the night at the inn and then gotten a horse the next day. It had taken another forty days to make her way to the city of Amsanoris. A city that had once belonged to the People, ransacked and burned to the ground by the filthy humans. The wood elves which now were the largest and dominant of the four elven races had rebuilt it almost three thousand cycles ago. Just to lose it to the humans eleven hundred cycles ago.

The elves had retaken the city almost a thousand cycles ago but had not managed to take the castle that the humans had built nearby. Even after a thousand cycles and endless wars, the castle was still under human control, thanks to their infuriating ability to create portals. If any of the other races had been able to do that, the humans would have been put in their rightful place long before the Fall.

Amsanoris was a shell of a city. Most of the citizens had long since moved away. Only those that plied in trades that soldiers needed, remained behind. Whores, innkeepers, smiths, and gamblers. A den of depravity, but the lesser elven races needed those distractions. Their way of thinking and purity had been corrupted by humans, beastkin, and merfolks.

When she arrived at the headquarters she was in a foul mood. The day was Shenarah's fiftieth birthday, and that meant that her father would be soiling her body. Axina knew it was tradition, but what Shenarah had said was correct. The need for that tradition was falling away. Despite all being related, there were enough of the People that the tradition could be done away with, and maybe that would lower the number of stillborn and deformed children.

After announcing her return, she was led to a Warleader’s antechamber and instructed to wait. She glowered at the mouse beastkin that sat behind the desk. A secretary of sorts. ‘How utterly disgusting. They should be kept in reservations, as they were after the First War.’

After nearly a glass of waiting, she was led into the office of Warleader Vulan Olobanise, a winged elf with blue coloured wings of the normal white, who had given her a wing of his troops to take north. He scowled at her. “Didn’t have the decency to stay dead when so many of my troops are dead or captured.”

“Warleader, I’m reporting back to duty,” she said, ignoring the man’s words. He was not worth it. The People were the best trained soldiers in the Alliance, and she as a priest even more so. She was trained to use almost all kinds of weapons, both in using and defending against them. Those damnable new weapons of the humans were tough to defend against though.

“Yes, I can see that. I should have you service the men or clean toilets,” he growled. Then with a sigh, he added, “Unfortunately, I can’t. The agreement between the Immortals puts you above such tasks. I’m severely disappointed with you. I’m assigning you to guard the Eastern Blacktower. You’ll get eight of my winged troopers, eight wood elves, and of course that girl you brought with you.”

“Sir,” she said, hiding her confusion. She had not brought anyone with her.

“You’ll leave at dawn tomorrow,” the Warleader said and waved her away. She wanted to throttle the man for being so disrespectful. Instead of using her considerable training to rip his wings off, one feather at a time, she turned around and walked away.

She was confused about who the girl was until she reached her quarters. Outside her door stood Shenarah. With a hiss, she opened the door, forcibly grabbed her daughter’s arm and dragged her into the room. With a hard twist, she sent the girl onto her bed. Standing above her daughter, she looked down on her and demanded, “What’s the meaning of this?”

“I’m fifty years old today, Mother,” Shenarah said while rubbing the arm Axina had grabbed. “And since I’m not participating in the feast, or upholding the traditions. I’m officially an outcast. I arrived here at dawn, the poor horse almost collapsed on me. I informed the people in charge that I was to join you, as a squire and to learn the art of combat.”

“So not only are you an outcast, you just lied to the military leaders?” Axina said.

“Oh no, I didn’t lie. It was all in the letter I wrote to them on father’s behalf. Even has his seal and everything,” Shenarah said, her impish grin had returned.

Axina felt woozy all of a sudden. Sitting down, she said with a sigh, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“No, I’m going to be the death of a lot of humans,” Shenarah said self-assured.

“Not really, we’ve been assigned to guard duty,” Axina explained.

“Gods above, how dreadfully boring. Somewhere close to the humans at least?” Shenarah asked with hope in her voice.

“Yes and no. We’re going to be guarding one of the Blacktowers,” Axina said.

“They’re the two watchtowers on top of the mountain. Each side of the pass, right?”

Axina nodded. “Yes, the eastern one. The one above the castle.”

“So we get to drop rocks on them, I can live with that,” Shenarah said, almost bouncing on the bed.

“No, they’ve over the years magicked a large overhang over the castle. They’re shielded from attack from above, which is one of the reasons we have so much trouble taking the castle,” Axina explained.

With a pout, her daughter asked, “So no fighting?”

“Most likely not.”

“Damn, maybe I should’ve stayed home and gotten knocked up. Doesn’t sound as boring as guard duty with no chance of fighting,” Shenarah complained and flopped down on the bed. “Could you hold me?”

Axina’s heart skipped a beat at that last question. Her body trembled as she slid into bed next to her daughter. She tried to keep her voice emotionless, “Sure thing.”

“Thanks, Mother, I’ve always dreamt of being held by you,” Shenarah whispered and pressed back against Axina, as she embraced her daughter for the first time. “Oh, I did learn one thing from the other People stationed here. The one that killed you. His name is Karth, and he’s up in the castle right now.”

The feelings in Axina warred with each other. Her anger and pride demanded that she go kill the bastard at once. On the other hand, her love and mother instinct demanded that she kept holding her daughter and never let go.

In the end, the latter two feelings won. For now.