Something stirred in another realm. Light flickered in a place where blood red darkness swallowed the dark form rising. She was once known as Then’diel Kingsaver. She loved her sons unto her last breath. When the lords of Ilmatar shattered and reformed she was taken against her will. She clung to this darkness of sorrow and wrapped herself into it. Like a seed she slept three-hundred years. Immortal sensibilities left in solitude grind apart in the darkness. It tried to consume her but Thendiel resisted. She had experienced pain before, and survived it.
“… All this silence is maddening.” Thendiel’s eyes opened wide.
She remembered the her home in Eldelórne, like pictures that flash just out of reach. She held a hope, to save her family, and live as she believed was her right, as elvenkin. The falseness of her Lordship was like a sick game; a trick played upon all their hearts. Thendiel wondered if she could even remember how to appear as herself in the mortal realm, if she ever did get the chance.
Stubbornly, she hide in the darkness with this light plucked from her eldest son’s heart. The blood bond that surrounded her reeked of hopelessness and despair, but this one spark revived her. Thendiel frantically hide it when she saw it bloom in her beloved Roevash. It crushed him, and she died in the pain of it. But she protected her only hope to return. “This light must not be consumed by the Thendiel the Goddess. What do the mortals call her, Mother of All. The one who has all the say in what is to be my reality!” Then’diel, the elven mother, scowled and clenched her teeth in rage.
“It has come to this!” Thendiel felt herself crack. “…and where are the gods forsaken wizards in all this?” Thendiel snarled as she planned her escape.
She paused, and hung in the heavy silence… waiting for an opportunity to claim the promise spoken to her bloodline.