Black and White

I'm not meant to be here.

None of us should be here. As long lived as the elves are, none of us walked this earth during the Age of Faerie. None of us were there, in the elder days of the world, when the fae fought their war, and imprisoned the demons in the Forbidding. None of us were even here for the Great Wars, when the Age of Man came crashing down. Some of us, mind you, were here for the Third War of the Races. When trolls and gnomes marched under the banner of the Warlock Lord, and humans, elves, and dwarves stood united. Now, the elves stand alone, aided only by gnomes, entrusting our fate to a princess, a Rover, and a half-breed. Fate is strange like that.

Fate, also, has decreed that the Black Watch stand alongside the rest of the elven army. Our black armour and black robes, alongside the white armour and white robes of our counterparts. We were meant to stand vigil over the Gardens of Life, nothing more. To protect them from mortal foes, not demons. We were meant to do many things, dying not among them. But if that is fate's decree, that we follow the decrees of a drunken prince and the last member of the order that spawned the Warlock Lord in the first place, then so be it.

So black and white stand firm with our shields, and put our spears forward. As one, we wait for the demons. As one, we hold the line, and let a tide of darkness come towards us. Threatening the Westland, Arborlon, and the Four Lands beyond. Perhaps even the entire world.

Again and again the demons charge. Each time we hold, yet our pushed ever back to the Gardens of Life. Was it like this, I wonder, in the past of both our races? When fae killed fae, as surely as men kill themselves now? Already I've lost my spear, and fight now with naught but blade and shield. Again and again the demon before me swings his blade. Again and again I stand firm, before finally thrusting my black blade through his black armour, into his black heart. It gurgles…or chuckles, I can't be sure. It grabs my shoulder in its last moments, and draws me close. Behind its helmet, I can see its eyes. Otherwise, like the soldiers around me, he's faceless. We're all faceless. The fae do battle once again, and for a moment, I wonder if fate has decreed that the elves must fade from the world again. To let the Age of Demons come round once more, in place of the Age of Man. I can only hope that, if we're to lose this battle, the demons destroy themselves more quickly than mankind did.

I kick its corpse aside. It, I remind myself, not him. I can ill afford to give monsters such as these any kind of identity. Black and white. Good and evil. That's all there is. Black, like the colour of my armour, that's stained by red. White, I see before me, as a regular soldier charges into a demon, impaling it from behind. Red, for a moment, that fills my vision, as that soldier loses his life to three more of the creatures. The white is in the ground, and darkness beckons.

I swing my sword, and one of them falls. A spear is thrust towards me, and I grunt, as my armour is pierced. I stagger backwards, and realize that we're already at the walls of the Sanctuary. Has the battle gone on that long, or are the demons really that many? Gnomes and elves stand side by side, but I can see that we're outnumbered horribly. And it's in this moment of realization that I realize that yes, I am indeed lying on the ground with a spear in my belly. Whitecloaks are all around me. Darkness is winning, provided it hasn't already won.

"For the Black Watch," I whisper, as I swing my sword, cutting into one of the demons' legs. "For Arborlon," I say, as its blade reaches its throat.

I say no more as their blades fall upon me. Only darkness

Only the black.

A/N

So I finished watching The Shannara Chronicles recently. Wider thoughts aside, one thing that really bugged me was the demon-elf battle. Yes, I'm fine with it being small in scope due to budget, and I'm even fine with the gnomes being present instead of the Border Legion. But even casting aside book loyalty, something that really bothered me was that after at least half a season of the elves preparing for battle, they're depicted as smucks who can barely take out a single demon, even one on one. Like I said, I don't mind them not being as 'uber' as they were in the original novel, but if you spend numerous scenes showing the elves training for battle, even if the battle is a rear-guard action, it would be appreciated to show at least some of that training pay off.

Anyway, drabbled this up.