Under Her Branches

[SilkiyTea]

A promise was made that day by the Fae children.

They would protect their mother from all of this suffering and help to guide nature back towards the healing light.

- Excerpt from The Lost Fairy Tale

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1st of Syph, The Beginning of Spring

Those of Human, of Beastkin, and Others know me as Nimna. I am the Executioner of my Commune, my true name is withheld from even other sons and daughters of the Great Mother, for an Executioner is reviled. It is one thing to slay the unclean or the fallen that we swoop upon, and it is another to put the axe to friend and family that fell to the depths of immoral darkness. I succeed my Mentor, he who was known by those of Human, of Beastkin, and Others as Heimway. The day remains fresh in my mind, the struggle of slaying those once close whom fell to the mere sensation of Hel's imprint had been draining his will long before I had become his Apprentice. Unlike my predecessor, I shall take the names and stories of those that come to us in twisted darkness. It is of the most import to remember them, for who they once were, and not who they have become.

The first was Xei, she whom left and returned as a tragedy. Her returned was marred by her sweetened words and idle promises, and in her shadow followed a youngling. The corruption became apparent when that demonic flame touched her skin, when she offered it to the hand of our commune Elder. A promise of power and respite from the constant hunting of our kind. The Elder and our warriors did battle- many had been bested until I took my stand. I was fortunate that she was battered, and bloodied, yet even then I could barely contend. When my axe crushed her staff, I asked her for her true name. I asked her for her purpose. I asked her why.

Xeinara.

In belief, she sought to lessen the weight of the sins of Humanity upon our Great Mother's shoulders, by way of taint and corruption. If she could persuade communes of light and dark to come together, than she could persuade the humans to sign their souls to the Demons and Half-Blooded devils of Hel. For if the evils of humanity are damned from the cycle to the devils of Hel, than is our mother not free of their weight? Of the crawling tears in the lifestream?

A misguided belief, but one I shall not forget.

Upon her death, the youngling that had clung to her stood reserved. Vestiges of the corruption remained upon her wings, and from it blossomed the siphoning of mana. But she did not strike out, she did not fight back, she looked ready for her end. As the commune recuperated and deliberated, I made a request. That the youngling be taken beneath my wings, as an apprentice to my craft, it would leave the commune pure from her influence and yet allow me to bring her back beneath the Great Mother's branches. I am grateful that such had been accepted. I can only hope to do Yggdrasil proud, to bring another of her lost children beneath the warmth of her canopy.

She gave me her true name, and let it be that only I shall ever know it. Tomorrow, the rites shall begin. Tomorrow, she will only be known by one, and to others she shall be nothing more than...

Ela.