Why am I doing this? Lately, it seems to be all that I think whenever I do anything. It all started with that needless action, that defense of someone that probably didn't even need it that bad. Then, it persisted through my brief visit back at my “residence”. I was leaving the king's grasp. Finally, after more than a century of captivity, I decided to seek freedom, because if I didn't, I believe I would be killed. And yet, I couldn't just leave, why? I had to go back for my things. My things. It's funny that I should think of those weapons of murder as my things, but who else used them but me? Even if the king had just “loaned” them to me, they were mine. So why would it be wrong for me to take them with me when I left? Even though I wasn't deserving of anything.

I don't think I should be reprimanded. I didn't steal anything. I didn't kill anyone when I took those things and left. Sure, the people that I knocked out might have been in a bit of trouble the next day, but that was none of my concern. And yet, another part of me is still shackled and still feels guilty. I think the greatest reason I could keep from turning myself in was the fear of ending up dead. If I died, I could no longer atone for the sins of my parents, could I? Of course not. Anyone who believes that death atones for anything is a fool. If that was true, then the death of every single powerful follower of Teldarion would have washed away the sins of elves, but it did not, if it had, then the hatred for elves that exists today would not exist.

After I left the capital, I did my best not to approach any human settlements. A part of me was afraid that I was actively being searched for, while another thought that I was just being paranoid. You've been the king's personal assassin for more than a century and all that time lived in almost complete anonymity. Do you really believe that the king's men would just go around shouting: “Have you seen this elf? He has been this country's slave for more than a century and killed countless people for the last few generations of kings. Inform us if you've found him, please.” It sounds so ridiculous.

Perhaps the reason is that I don't wish for any contact with other people. Hiding my identity is easy enough and I have been an expert at it for decades now. Maybe it's the thrill of hunting for food and scavenging for things. It's quite incredible how actually applicable my skills as an assassin are to hunting, although I've quickly realized that regular animals can be quite fickle compared to people. It takes more patience and skill to hunt than it does to murder. Maybe I was just reveling in that primal lifestyle.

It reminded me of something that I was told when I was really young child, before Teldarion's fall: “The elves' current form is nothing but a sham, a facade of civility that easily crumbles upon proper inspection. We are natural hunters, fine tuned to live, kill and die in the wilds. We are the noblest of creatures, but that beauty was taken from us by the coward creatures that closed and pushed back the great wilds in which we belong. So now we hunt them, as recompense for the taking of our hunting grounds.” It still doesn't make complete sense to me, but I must admit that living in the wilds even for a short time has made me appreciate the feeling behind it, and after all isn't that the most important part?”

Then it happened. I saw that thing. It was at the southern border of Meridia. I was once again looking and listening for prey, then I heard a strange sound. It was an almost soft sound, but something that I could clearly hear with my sharp senses. It sounded like something being gently but constantly sucked. For some reason it made me think of a predator. I suppressed my presence as much as I could and approached the sound, as terrified as I was curious. What I saw was something that looked like an embrace, but it was nothing of the sort.

A thing that looked like an elf was holding a human in its arms and kissing its neck. No, it was not kissing, it was biting and sucking on it. I watched it transfixed as if possessed by some kind of morbid feeling. The embraced human looked ecstatic, why? I could easily see as the color drained from that human's face and their life faded away. How could they look like that? Another human, a woman, looked on, with no concern for the scene happening in front of them. I was taken by an intense sense of wrongness, as if that was a thing that should not be. I was not wrong. Still, something inside told me that the thing that was feeding on the human was incredibly dangerous. I couldn't do anything about what was happening, or could I? There are few situations where someone was more vulnerable than when they are eating.

I moved almost by instinct. I left my hiding position and careful to cause as little sound as possible, I drew my trusty blood drinking dagger. Somehow, I knew that an arrow would be no good. I had to bleed that thing thoroughly. What more perfect instrument could there be? I approached in perfect stealth, and yet, the human woman that was watching the thing reacted.

“Master!”

It shouted and charged at me. The elf-like thing barely acknowledged it and continued its feast. I have never seen a human fight so fiercely or with such strength. Although I was handicapped by the idea that I should not kill an innocent human, I am not sure I could have killed her if I wanted. I struggled for a few brief moments. She tried to claw and bite at me, while I tried to grip and immobilize her, having sheathed my dagger. Our fight was interrupted by a satisfied sound coming from the thing that looked like an elf. It was done done gorging itself and had left but a husk of the human it had been feasting on.

The human I had been fighting with revealed a beaming smile and immediately turned back to look at the thing she had called Master. At that moment, I probably could have plunged my dagger in her back and killed her, but doing so would likely have cost me my life.

I had to run. If I didn't, then that thing would catch me and tear me to pieces. I just know it. It wouldn't even give me the benefit of a gentle death like it had given that other human it had feasted on. No, it was a satisfied predator that would destroy me for attempting to interrupt its feeding. I ran, and I ran, until I was sure that nothing was following me.

Why am I doing this? Every time I remember that thing, overwhelming fear takes over me. Maybe that's why. It is a thing that should not be, something that should be eliminated, taken out from this world. But how? I cannot do it alone as it is too powerful. But would I dare to step foot in the human town of Ravensguard that it seems to have made its hunting ground?