For as long as he could remember, Ald had felt different, or rather he knew that he was. While his half-siblings were from distinguished noble families, accepted as heir to House Varris, Ald had always endured gazes of distain despite his mothers best efforts to shield him from such things.
It was to be expected however, since Ald was a mixed-blood born to a political marriage between the Duke of Varris and a Lady of the Elven Kingdom. His father was not a despicable man inherently, just ignorant either willingly or unwillingly to the suffering of his child and wife.
None of this mattered to Ald however, for he resided quite contently in his mother estate separate from that of the main house. Within the estate was almost otherworldly to that of Albion, Lady Aerith, Ald's mother, was rather fond of her Elven heritage. Almost like she clung to her distant homeland, she grew mystically silver flowering that matched her beautiful yet icy appearance, covered the estate in fresh mint scented plants and was only attended to by her personal, faithful elven maids. To the rest of the Kingdom the Elven lineage was both mystic and terrifying, especially after the war only three decades ago.
Ald spent most his days in the estate, only ever leaving when his father would parade him before other nobility as a spectacle. 'Look at him.' 'Why are his ears so long.' 'He looks rather slim for a boy.' 'Such scary eyes he has.' 'How unnerving.' This was supposed to be how he spent the rest of his long lived life, seemingly protected by his father from court politics but secretly scorned and subject to quiet scrutiny from the rest of the kingdom.
Yet at the age of 15 something happened that would change Ald's life. For the first time he would be granted freedom, when the neighbouring Skald Kingdom would call upon Albion to honour their defensive pact against the Orc raiders from across the northern ridges.
"This is absurd!" Lady Aelith yelled upon reading the letter of summons, her usually tranquil and distant composure shattered and replaced with an intense fury. "He is a child, how could that bastard do this!" She began to weep in the arms of her most trusted maid, Miss Sif, whom had been something like an aunt to Ard. The pair wept and Ald could only observe from the hallway, torn on how to feel at this moment.
He knew this day would come eventually, his eldest brothers either attending the Royal Academies or serving within the Royal court were far to valuable as the runners up to the heir position and with duties tying them to the Capital. His younger brothers all still too young to be considered either, leaving only Ald as a viable option.
Reminiscing about the past Ald continued to march in rhythm to the soldiers placed under his command. Each life entrusted to the hands of a single young noble. It was a daunting realisation but luckily for Ald, he had a reliable shoulder to lean on. Turning to the man to his left was the gruff and dishevelled Captain Ulric, an older man bearing over Ald's short slender figure, his hair short and scruffy looking, skin hardened and scarred from countless campaigns and a distinct stench of ale and musk.
For the past two weeks Ulric had made sure the men stayed in line, many of which had served alongside him for years making the journey easy. Now however they approached the northern border and the younger, less experienced soldiers began to grumble and complain. "Shut up you lot!" Ulric bellowed overhead, "Enough complaining and prepare to cross, winging like a bunch of kiddies!"
Despite his demeanour he had been rather accepting and friendly towards Ald, perhaps out of pity, unlikely out of duty. Captain Ulric was first to spot and lead the approach towards the rally point where three other armies were already set up waiting for Ald.
"Lord Varris, about time you-" the voice wavered as they saw the pointed ears as Ald pulled down his hood, starring into the distant, murky silver eyes of Ald was Lord Cassian Knox, of the renown Knox family. Beside him was Lords Roan Maxwell and Lysandrus Falkrim. The trio were perplexed, their expressions ranging from shock and confusion to annoyance. Roan was the first to catch himself, offering a hand to Ald "Roan Maxwell, a pleasure..." he awaited Ald's name. Ald accepted the hand without hesitation, smiling gently "Ald Varris." he spoke with a melodic voice, pleasant to the ears and soothing to the soul. A clear indication to his elven heritage, what confused the nobles more was his hair, from the rumours the trio had heard about elves was that their hair was distinctively silver. While it was odd it was undeniable to them that this was the real deal, an actual elf, even if only a half blood his uncanny beauty, melodic voice and immature appearance were all evidence to that.
Pleasantries lasted only a few hours as the unified army pressed further into the northern forests, the march was silent save for the crunch of snow beneath their boots. As they approached closer to the first Skald outpost what stud out even to the most inexperienced amongst the soldiers was the quiet, it was common knowledge that those of the northern kingdom were a rowdy bunch, even during their campaigns they were notoriously boisterous. The lack of noise was alarm enough for the whole army to be on edge, Ulric especially kept his hand firmly around his sword handle.
Their worst fears were realised as they bore witness to what remained for the Skald outpost. Bodies impaled along the palisades, torn apart like a beast had attacked, the most haunting part was the manner of which the attack was carried out. It was clear to everyone that this was intentional. Perhaps a warning? Ulric and a few of the men began to inspect the corpses, almost studying the wounds, the precision of the incisions carried out. Ald followed behind at a slight distance, his gaze fixed at the blood soaked snow, Cassian stayed beside the boy and put a hand on his shoulder as he noticed Ald's sickly expression. "Are you okay Lord Varris?"
Cassian's retainer sprung up from inspecting a corpse, his head scanned frantically, as did Ulric and the others. They ran back to the Lords but it was already too late.
"Down!" Ulric yelled as he pulled his hatchet from his belt, throwing with a tremendous force as he continued running. The hatchet flew past Ald's face by mere inches as narrowly ducked, causing a sickening crunch to echo behind him. As Ald turned he saw the falling Orc, eyes bloodshot as they roll back. All of a sudden Ald was thrown backwards slamming into the snow as he landed on the remains of a Skuld warrior. "Get it together or you'll die!" Cassian yelled as he parries an incoming orcish blade, he's thrown to the left but manages to pivot and launch himself back at the orc, driving his sword right through the orcs heart before twisting it.
The retainer closes the distance in seconds as he draws his greatsword bringing it down onto another orcs head. "My Lord we must retreat, they number too many!" he calls but Cassian doesn't falter "We must stand our ground Sir Lucian, the Skald are counting on us."
"Get up boy!" Ulric grabs Ald by the collar lifting him to his feet. The group form back to back, they hack and slash but for every orc they manage to cut down another takes it's place. The rest of the army are slowly butchered, no match for the savage beasts that isolate the soldiers into smaller groups. Ald finally snaps out of his stupor as a gauntlet swings towards him, he tries to duck but it's not fast enough, the gauntlet cracks Ald across the head and he drops to one knee. As the orcs sword follows him down his muscles tense as he reacts on pure instinct, his arms ache as he tears through the immense exhaustion and pain to drive up his sword, both blades narrowly pass one another but as the orcs approaches Ald's chest he twists at the last possible moment, his torso tearing in pain as he moves it at such a foreign pace.
Ald's sword finds it's mark, lodging in the orcs lung, the orc gasps in pain, wheezing as his lungs fill with blood, it spews from between his lips as he curses Ald, slamming his gauntlet down onto the young boys back, but Ald doesn't retreat this time, he twists the sword with great effort sawing through thick muscle and flesh as he drags the blade further and further through the orcs guts.
"Enough boy! We need to go!" Ulric grabs Ald, dragging him away from the orc, Ald had been so absorbed he'd not even noticed the orc had died some moments ago. The outpost was in chaos, Ald was shaking as he look around at the carnage though bloody eyes, the wound from the gauntlet finally realising as the adrenaline wore of and reality set in. "They cut us off, bastards! We need to push through and reach Frostbane!" Sir Lucian yelled as he and Cassian led a few of the survivors through the outpost.
The group slowly tore their way through with others following their lead, but as they cut deeper into the horde the number of allies shrunk, slowly getting absorbed into the mass of orcs. "Almost out! The rear gate it just ahead!" Cassian called.
Alas, the group had believed that getting out of the outpost would be the hardest hurdle. They would be shocked to find out it was but the first test the orcs and the northern region would throw at them as they endured the following days quickly regretting what decisions led them here.