I wasn't born in the Old Vale. I was born a set of two just outside of the province Snowcourt. A place frozen almost year round with weak air that would suffocate most.
My mother, Ester, had met my father, Victor, just within Snowcourt boarders. Victor was a tall, lanky, Elven male. His long hair the color of sunshine. He was a stoic man, and spoke few words. Most Elven women found that appealing.
Ester, held eyes that captivated and frightened most. Eyes the color of crimson blood, she made sure that everyone knew. Midnight hair that trailed like long silk gowns that most noble Elven women ware. She was tall compared to most Rubah, and had a habit of leading men a stray. Most men would call her beautiful accompanied by the word witch.
But upon the fateful day the crossed paths, my father was smitten by her looks. Her beauty masked all others. Though beautiful her personality was that of an animal. She was untamable, and never fell of a man who couldn't impress her.
Though try as he might, Victor, failed many times, before finally wooing Ester. The ever faithful Victor was soon abandoned, for the woman he fell in love with grew bored of the relationship.
Decades passed, and the lonesome Victor moved on, falling in love with an Elven woman named, Kaira. Together they bore two sons, Faolan and Hyram.
One night, Ester had appeared before Victor, and once again he had fallen victim to her charms, proving himself unfaithful to his current lover. The next morning Ester vanished, leaving Victor with guilt, and sadness.
Within the province Esterpine, my father continued to live with his second lover, all the while trying to leave Ester in the past. Two years of peaceful family life was destroyed the day Ester revealed herself to the couple, two small replicas at her side.
She claimed that the children were of his seed, and she could no longer care for such halflings. Kaira felt betrayed and became furious, refusing to having anything to do with Victor, and the halflings.
We there left with my father, two children, neglected and wild. He began to find that taking care of troublesome twins was too much, and just as he was about to abandon us, his second son, Hyram, took us in.
He raised us on the small island known as the Old Vale, and taught us Elven was, though the world we lived in rejected us. They tormented, and cursed us, calling us “Beastlings” and marking us with same. Giving our names the meaning of fear. Soon we became cold hearted, and stone thick, ignoring their harsh words, but never forgetting.
Yet we still live and fight for a kingdom that does not want us. Why?
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