The snow was drifting in the air like seeds blown from a dandelion, as I walked across the land I could scarcely recognise to be the same earth, I had once known. So much had changed. In my mind, the word brutalized played a part in what I saw. There was no more colour where I looked. The tall buildings and stone did not shine with the same vibrancy despite their bright city lights. Everything was grey and murky.

I thought that my ascent from the underground would at least allow me to see the stars again. A sight I have quite forgotten. But alas, the clouds, smoke and fog have deemed it not to be.

I should not have been surprised. I knew of the war that the humans had fought and how it called for heavy machinery and lives lost. It would seem once their feud with my people came to a truce, this young species turned to fighting each other, to feed their violent nature.

Such a pity…

I did hope they would have evolved to being better than they were.

I should hate them as he does.

Long ago, I did try to hate them.

They were after all to blame for all my grief, except the capacity to do so, was beyond my capability. Instead, I find that I carry nothing but pity and sadness. Even now my eyes glisten with unshed tears and it stalls me, for a moment or two, from the task at hand.

Hidden in an alleyway, I regain my composure, ensuring that my hood is still drawn to conceal my face before I leave the shadows. It is a compound I make my way towards, with my hand levitated and open to make my ability to sense things far more effective. Truly, I only have a name to go by and the power it possesses. Strange it would lead me here. I had expected security to be much more profound rather than a metal fence topped off with barbed wire. If the humans understood the magnitude of the demons potential at all, I should at least find trespassing extremely difficult, even for an elf. I was, however, disappointed that there was no challenge. I do somewhat crave a surge of adrenaline, which is understandable since I have spent centuries in hiding with nothing to do but watch as my noble race fades.

Linking my pale fingers through the fence, I gazed up and sighed. All I need do is take a few steps backwards and leap, making a silent landing on the other side, which is exactly what I did. Not even the watchdogs cared to give me away, should they have dared, and at this point, I almost wished that they would have. I was curious to test the human's guns and see if I could deflect a bullet with my blade. Smiling to myself, I questioned my sanity and walked on.

Passing a number of bunkers, their little glass windows illuminated by a warm glow, I peered into each one. Some men drank in company, some alone, the prior laughed, the latter solemn. They appeared to be celebrating something, each in their own way. I wondered what could be the cause. We children of the earth did not need much reason to throw some festivity or another and to be called decadent would have been an understatement. I wish we could return to those times of merriment, if just for a moment. It would be nice to prove to ourselves that, that time was not a dream. For it sometimes feels that way.

Lost in my thoughts, the sudden exposure to the demons presence hit me like a stone wall, stopping me dead in my tracks.

Slowly I turned my head and the figure was clear to see as I moved closer to the clear glass, and gasped.

He had his back to me at first, wearing strangely striped garments. In one hand a hideous doll was held, while the other was made of stone, a giant key I knew, and it rested heavily by his side. Now and then, his shoulders buckled in laughter, and as if I were standing by the demons side, I could hear its innocent sound and I could not be more confused.

He was…a boy.

Not a monster.

Such happiness I sensed emanating off of him.

Happiness and love.

Had I not known better, and my eye sight poor, I would have said that he was a human child. Only his exposed skin was a fiery red and his skull had the two protrusions of horns. However, despite all that, I could not fear him, nor think he would want to cause me harm, or anyone else for that matter.

As he laughed again, I found it contagious and for the first time in I don't know how long, I joined in with my own, all the while thinking how I could sit and observe him for hours on end, amused and fascinated by every action he made.

Suddenly, another figure stepped onto the scene and instinct caused me to duck, with just my golden eyes peering over the window ledge.

He was an older man and unmistakably human, with a pair of spectacles perched on the edge of his nose. He moved to silence some box, which had baffled me at first glance, and to darken the moving pictures paraded on its surface. Crossing his arms firmly, the man addressed the child, negotiating the terms concerning his bedtime and I smiled at both their stubbornness, but it was easy to see the man could not refuse the boys asking for a tale before he sleeps.

How peculiar they looked. Their differences obvious and striking to the naked eye and yet I could tell just by being near them, that they were at total ease and comfort with one another. This aging man, he has for some years been a father to the demon and because of that, I found my explanation for the child's surprising character.

How I longed to touch their hands, so that I could gather the history of this unlikely parent and child for myself. It was almost painful to sit here and wonder about them both and I continued to do so, until the man, after some deliberation, retrieved his chosen book from among his collection and began to read the first page.

Instantly, my blood ran cold and my mind could focus on nothing but the sound of the reader's deep voice.

He was telling the child of the Golden Army.

How strange to hear it told as a story when to me it was memory.

A very dark and painful memory...

In regards to elven years, I was a young woman then. My parent's victims to the wars raged by the humans and their desire to expand across the earth, leaving me an orphan and unacquainted with the time that man, beast and all magical beings existed together beneath the father tree.

Much blood was spilt with each battle to have been fought on lands, which had once been so beautiful and pure. What could anyone do but look on in dread at the thousands of corpses, and despair at the prospect that it may never end, until the very last falls.

But one day, the master of the goblin blacksmiths offered to build the king a golden mechanical army, seventy times seventy soldiers that would never know hunger and could not be stopped. Prince Nuada begged his father to agree, which was when I made my entrance into the throne room.

Unfortunately, I was not my usual self. I was victim to the war once more. Only the loss was not my parents, a pair I had scarcely known, but rather a much beloved sibling found in my brother Corvin, whose butchered body had just been returned to me.

Sorrow, it was like a poison coursing through my veins and weakening my resolve. By the time I reached the three gathered before me, a dark mist had consumed my spirit rendering me cold and unfeeling. No matter how bright the sun shone, I could not have felt any warmth that day nor appreciate a birds song. The world in my eyes was damned and I knew of nothing that would save it but the annihilation of all humans. So when asked my opinion on the matter, I agreed entirely and with that, the king ordered the army to be built.

I remember how I collapsed in the arms of the one thing I had left, when the goblin and king left to discuss things further. The one elf that could put breath back in my lungs again as he kissed my lips and pulled me in close so that I could gain some strength, from the power of our hearts beating as one. My husband, the Prince Nuada to whom I owed my entire existence, vowed to me that day that he would see me bask in the meadows, relishing in happiness and peace once more, if it was the last thing he do.

And so, in the days that followed, a magical crown was forged which would allow those of royal blood to command the army if unchallenged and before his people, no one dared dispute the king.

It did not take long for the army to be of need, when next our enemies forces gathered, only this time they felt the earth tremble beneath their feet and saw the sky darken with monstrous shapes.

The golden army had no remorse, felt no loyalty or pain.

Against those of little more than flesh and bone, the golden army was ruthless and the humans could not withstand them. Their lives were extinguished. Even women and children were among those of the dead. I can still remember the sound of their screams and then the eerie silence that followed. I thought that I would be pleased, but instead I was disgusted at myself for playing my part in their slaughter and begged that my father-in-law show the mercy his army lacked.

King Balor did not need much persuasion. His heart was already heavy with regret the same as mine and so, he called a truce and divided the crown into three pieces, one for the humans and two for himself. In exchange, man would keep to the cities and the magical beings would own the forests.

This truce would be honoured until the end of time.

However, prince Nuada did not believe in the promises of man and deemed his father's actions cowardly, before focusing the blame for the truce on the one person he would not have suspected to betray him so badly. For that was the cause for his pain. Betrayal, it cut him like a wound and the more he looked at me, the more it festered, until he turned away and went into exile, vowing to return the day when his people needed him most.

Now the army lays dormant, locked inside the earth and there it is to this day, waiting for when the crown is made whole again.

I cannot say what happened to me during those early years. In truth, no matter how hard I try, I cannot remember. All I can say is that there was no life inside of me. I was no more than a vacant vessel without him. When elves are born, they are done so with what is essentially a divided soul and that somewhere there is another to complete them. Once their mate is found, the union which tethers them body and soul is far more literal, rather than just a symbolic declaration.

It is almost impossible to stay alive without them near.

But for my people I learnt how to carry on.

Consumed by my past, the different voice to penetrate my ears, worked to pull me back to the present and I found that I was shaking, almost crippled by the loss of the one I love and it took a lot more self-control to regain my composure.

"What does inde, industrible?" the child asked.

With the book sealed within his hands the man looked to child and answered his question.

"Indestructible, it means it cannot be destroyed"

How I envied them that. I have been shattered into pieces, which the centuries have had me feel I am made a mockery of, considering it has taken so long to try and salvage some of my former self. But still, there remain large, gaping cracks which I am reminded of daily and could for the most part numb myself too with enough practice, however, hearing the tale of the golden army, has peeled the scabs off of old wounds and I find my body now aches and stings and throbs…

"But it's just a story right, pap?" I glared at the boy and his bucked tooth grin, the thought of possibility gleaming wildly behind his eye, though his better judgment wished to question it.

The old man was preparing to the leave the room, addressing the boy amused.

"Is it now?"

"Yeah those guys, they're not actually real?" it was interesting he would doubt the existence of elves and the golden army, when his own reflection in the mirror, should prove that things aren't always so black and white. That the world carries secrets and just because they are not remembered, seen or believed, does not mean they are not real.

My own train of thought must have equalled to the old mans and he smiled fondly and said, "Well, my son. I am sure we'll find out"

And with that, he turned around and stared directly at me, acknowledging my presence with an inclination of his head.