The moon rays sprayed throughout the room illuminating the figure of a little girl sitting by the dressing table her mother behind her absentmindedly playing with her gorgeous flame like hair. Her usually cheerful mother was rather dull this evening.
"Mother?" She spoke her small doey eyes peering up at her mother through the mirror.
"Yes, my flower." Her mother replied a subtle smile gracing her lips.
"Will u tell me the story again? Please." She pleaded turning to look at her mother batting her lashes.
Her mother chuckled softly, picking up the hairbrush
" Alright, alright. Now sit properly young lady let me prepare you for bed."
She quickly turned towards the mirror swinging her legs as she awaited the sound of her mother's voice
" Once, thousands of years ago, legend spoke of a hidden garden that bore only a single flower, the White Mist.
It was said that anyone who tasted its nectar would be granted eternal youth.
The garden's location was known only to a sacred tribe, a people believed to dwell beyond the mountains where the trees danced and the earth itself shifted and breathed.
For countless generations, they guarded the flower, passing the responsibility from parent to child, oath to oath. But as the ages wore on, the hunger for power grew.
A human king, consumed by ambition, sought out the elf emperor. He offered immeasurable wealth in exchange for one thing, aid in claiming the White Mist.
The elves were already immortal therefore they did not need the flower but they were popular for their love for gold..."
The woman paused reaching for a ribbon before she continued,
" The betrayal came during the tribe's greatest festival, a sacred day when they worshipped the earth for its gifts. As drums echoed and prayers rose, their homeland was invaded. Human soldiers stormed the valley, empowered by the forbidden magic of the elf emperor.
Their queen was taken and hidden away, safe from the blades of the soliders in the highest tower, the same tower where the queens before her had been laid to eternal rest. From its cold heights, she watched in helpless agony as her people were tortured and slaughtered, and the sacred garden they were sworn to protect was torn apart, its treasure stolen.
That day, the sky wept.
The earth mourned..."
Once again she stopped, noticing her child's quiet yawn.
" Shall I go on?" She asked
" Yes, mother." The girl replies nodding her head rapidly
" Judged and condemned by the gods, the queen was stripped of her power, her spirit bound to the tower for all eternity, neither living nor dead, neither ruler nor release.
But despair gave birth to wrath.
With hatred burning in her heart, the queen made one final pact with the spirits of the elders. She offered her soul as sacrifice, and in return, she unleashed a curse that would echo through time itself, one that would bind both human and elf to suffering everlasting.
"On a forsaken day, a child shall be born of mingled blood, royal elf and mortal human.
She shall belong to no realm: neither human, nor elf, nor spirit, but condemned to walk forever between them.
Marked by fate, she shall carry the mark of the white mist and be the bearer of doom. For her birth shall bring doom to all race.
Everyone who bears the power of the white mist shall be her army, slaughtering the ones they love by their very blade"
The woman looked down at her child.
She had been so consumed by the story she hadn't noticed she had fallen asleep.
Slowly she lifted her into her arms and headed for the bed.
A loud bang stopped her in her pace,the bedroom door flung open and a man ran in
" Mistress, they've found us."