《By Any Name》 Prologue - Stars You! What have you done?! It''s all rui-! ...Oh. I didn''t - didn''t think you would really - ...Hah. What a waste. Just like this, it''s all... ...We were stars, once. You remember, don''t you? Distant but brilliant. Perhaps that was cruel of us, to exist as we did. Never once involving ourselves, only watching. Silent witnesses to endless suffering. Living testaments to generations of misery. Do you think that was why they turned on us? Ah, what good are gods when they do not do anything. It''s like having no gods at all, isn''t it? I''ve thought a lot on this matter, over the years. Looking for a why. It took a while, but I think I''ve got it now. It doesn''t change anything though, does it? We''re still... What a pair we were. You, the wind beneath my wings. I, the shadow at your back. Weren''t we everything to each other, dear Elanor? Didn''t all else pale in comparison? Wasn''t it enough for us, to have each other? Let the world die if you and I still remained. We had eternity, and eternity wasn''t enough, because the Sundering - - my apologies. I got a bit worked up again. You know I would never hurt you, dear Elanor. It would be like hurting myself, and I have never been one for that. Thoughclearly -If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ...well. Who can say, anymore, with what we are now. I''m sorry, my dear. Where was I? Ah, yes. Eternity. Eternity wasn''t enough. Ha, look at me, lamenting things I can''t change. Leave regrets for the past and embrace the future, right? That''s your philosophy. But you''re missing something important. I could have changed it. I could have fixed it. Fixedus. These miserable things that we are now. Why wouldn''t you let me finish it? Did they grow so dear to you, Elanor? Dearer than me? I can''t say I''m not hurt by that thought. You know you mean the world to me, still. To think that you would hold their lives over mine...! Haha, it''s not surprising at all. Yes, of course you would. I can''t blame you for falling into the same trap I did. Maybe it''s just the way things should be, if we both feel the same. But I can''t forgive them. Oh, don''t look at me like that. It''s nottheir fault, I know that. Nothing changes. We weren''t meant to survive, Elanor. Do you understand? We are diminished now, yes. Twisted into something unrecognizable. Mutilated beyond any hope of restoration to what we should be. That''s alright. Where there''s life, there''s a way. But they would have denied us even this! Torn us apart without a care, for their own selfish desires! Us, consigned to nonexistence, reduced to a ghost of a fleeting possibility never to be, as an afterthought. The gall. The indignity. They died for a reason, a good one, and I regret nothing. Save, perhaps, that you disagree so strongly with me. We''ve drifted apart, it seems. A pity. So now, is this how it ends, Elanor? You and I, together once more? It''s fitting. There are worse ways to go. Alas, I''m not willing to give up yet. Chapter 1 - Embarcation The night is dark and full of terrors; the day, bright and beautiful. To him, there''s no difference now. The night reigns eternal. The cold grows worse, as he continues to travel along the road. He follows the well-worn path, and day by day, it gets a bit chillier. The nip of frost at his toes. The cling of rime to his hair. The sting of winter on his nose. He keeps going. Even if there''s nothing for him where he''s headed, there''s nothing left for him behind. His home is barred to him by artifice, guile, and a healthy dose of misfortune. Bad timing. Deliberately engineered weakness. Whatever the case, the result is the same. An elf in exile, bound to wander the world until he drops dead. Perhaps even longer, if some necromancer happens to find the corpse - a rotting body left far from the roots of the forests it was meant to nurture. That''d be a real shame. A great irony. A solid wager. Unless he can redeem himself, of course. Not likely, but something to hope for, if he doesn''t die. He could probably sell his services as a mercenary if he practiced enough. Even half the skill he once had would be worth something. From there, build his reputation by repeatedly putting his life on the line for someone else''s fight. Someone else''s cause. To bleed and slaughter in the name of something he might not believe in. Until he has gained a new name for himself and become worthy. Then, perhaps, he can go home again. Small steps. Practicing first. It''s hard - everything is so clumsy, now. It''s like learning to walk, only he keeps falling, tripped by the same obstacles over and over again. Things are too close or too far and it doesn''t matter which, because he misses by a mile anyway.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. There''s something crucial he''s missing, and it doesn''t help that the further he travels, the less life there is. Trees thin out to grasses dwindle to patchy lichen growths, stubbornly clinging to rock. Such is the curse of Ilest, Land of Eternal Winter. Nothing natural grows there. The region proper is perpetually blanketed in ice and snow, the native inhabitants long gone. The smart ones, at least. He''s heard there are still some who live there, eking out a living through the wretched, laborious work of rock-breaking. Mining, some would call it. In the darkness of winding tunnels, under sturdy mountains, far from what little light even makes it to that desolate wasteland. Willingly entombed. Ilest has nothing precious left, save what lies deep in the bones of the earth. He thinks on it quite often, as he slowly treks his way north. Why bother? There''s nothing for him there and there''s nothing for him behind, but why not go east? Or west, for that matter. He could bask in the warmth of the sun. That, at least, would be left to him. There''s no one to see or care what he does anymore; the watchers abandoned him leagues ago and what predators would stand in his way that he could not slay? Why go north? There are many things to regret, for the Eagle-Eye. For one, the incident that stripped him of his vaunted sight and left him a hollow shell of his former self. For another, the lack of sight that led the incident to happen at all. Now, he has neither. That''s probably a bit harsh of him, if he were being objective, but feelings are what they are. Paranoia thrives in his mind and makes a meal of reason. It''s likely for the best, even, that he''s alone on this lonely journey to nowhere and nothing. Fitting for an outcast. At least he won''t hurt anyone if he lashes out, though it doesn''t exactly do wonders for his personality. Or mood. He''s being dramatic, he tells himself, as if it matters, as if he''ll listen. He grows less and less rational with each step he takes on this road, with every stride forward away from sun-dappled beaches and woods. Even if they aren''thome, they''re something, aren''t they? But that stubborn knot that chokes his heart and clogs his windpipe throbs, and so, adrift and dangerously unmoored, he walks into the storm. The temperature continues to drop. The cold settles in his bones.