The Last Oath
I have seen many places—
worlds that breathe, and worlds long fallen silent.
Yet no story has ever touched me as deeply
as that of the Elf and the Dark Elf.
It began with light… and ended in the whisper of ashes.
Once, they loved—two souls born from opposites.
She was the morning light; he, the silence of the night.
And yet they found each other—against all that was.
Their love was a spark in the darkness,
too bright to burn forever.
When the shadows came, their world split in two.
He—the Dark Elf—sought power to protect her.
But with every sacrifice he made, his heart changed.
What he tried to save was shattered by what he became.
I saw them one night, in the rain, amidst smoke and flickering fire.
The heat tore through the darkness,
and the ground glowed like the last breaths of a dying world.
The Elf stood over the ruins of her old life,
tears like shards of glass upon her skin.
Before her knelt the one who had once been her light—
now trapped within his own curse.
In her hand gleamed a blade of light and sorrow.
She trembled as she raised it—
not out of hatred, but out of love.
And as the sword fell,
the rain grew louder,
as if trying to drown the inevitable.
He sank to the ground,
but death did not take him.
He lived—broken, yet alive.
Bound to what she had done.
She touched his face one last time.
There was no anger in her eyes—
only that quiet, incomprehensible understanding.
Then she spoke her oath—her final vow.
"I will not hate you.
I will remember you."
And with those words, she vanished into the wind.
All that remained was the echo of her vow—
a resonance carried by time itself.
I wandered on, through fire, rain, and night.
And sometimes, when the storm rolls over the hills,
I hear it again—that oath,
stronger than vengeance.
Stronger than death.
The Last Oath.
A love that did not survive—
and yet, will never die.
🖤🌌🌀