The Sinful Young Master

Jolthar followed behind the elder; his gaze swept around the large and wide space.

Dominating the space was a statue that rose fifty feet toward the open ceiling. It depicted a being neither fully elven nor fully divine—a figure with four arms, each hand forming a different ritual gesture. Its face was serene yet powerful, its eyes inlaid with crystals that seemed to follow Jolthar as he moved.

"The Lord Deity, Vhaeran", the elder said simply, naming the figure. "The First Touched. He who taught us to embrace chaos rather than fear it."

"We have millennia of history, dating to the primordial era where even the gods and deities roamed the lands. It is not an exaggeration when I say that we were peak of power of when our lord deity was among us. We feared no one, and we lived in harmony with the natural world, guided by Vhaeran's wisdom and strength."

"Many feared our power and sought to destroy us, but our Lord Deity brought balance—reassuring the other races that we would never threaten their existence again."

"But it didn't last long. There was a race who were seeing us as a hurdle or more like uncertain about their incapability; they sought to destroy our realm."

Jolthar could guess just from the stare the elder was giving him the ones who he was talking about. It had to be humans, and it would explain their hatred they have towards the humans.

The elder sighed heavily, looking at the statue. He continued, "Our lord deity, even in his last moments, he said that we shouldn't carry the resentment and live freely of hatred."

"But how could we live knowing that humans have done so much to bring us down? Our ancestors did not listen to the deity's words and killed the humans who were responsible for the downfall of our race."

The elder looked distant as he paused for a moment.

Jolthar just stood there, watching the elder. He didn't want to interrupt the old man, but he did wonder why he was telling him all of this.

The elder took in a sharp breath. "It is said that the Lord Deity appeared upon their return, furious at what they had done. He chastised them harshly and commanded that they live out their days in this hollow place. From that moment on, we were ordered to remain hidden from the outside world, forbidden from ever setting foot beyond these boundaries. And so, we came to dwell in this secret realm, cut off from all else."

Jolthar was still looking at the elder, listening to him.

The elder smiled and said, "You must be wondering why I am telling you all of this."

Jolthar nodded, simply.

"If you want to learn from us, you should know the history we have, the humans. And the reason I am willing to let you learn is that I could sense the divinity in you. You wield the chaos the same as our lord deity. I could tell it by the way you wielded the chaos."

Jolthar looked confused; he wasn't aware of how their lord wielded the chaos. He was just following his instincts to control the chaos.

Seeing the confusion on his face, the elder explained, "The flame you showed us—it was the Chaos Flame. It's the same flame described in our scriptures, the very one our Lord once wielded. And yet, you were unaware of the destructive power you carry within you."

Now, Jolthar was really surprised to hear the elder explain. He wasn't even aware that it was a flame. He just materialized what came into his mind. And now he realized the reason behind the elves' bewildered expressions.

Jolthar studied the statue with genuine interest.

His education, which he taught himself in the Keep, had included extensive knowledge of divine beings across cultures, but this deity was unfamiliar to him.

"I could tell you were special from the moment you appeared at our borders," the elder said, moving to a circular table at the centre of the room.

"A child of the heavens walks differently upon the earth."

Jolthar wondered if the elder could sense his voidwrath power or her his connection to the goddess. Whatever it was, the elder was quite perceptive. But he didn't want to indulge, so he decided not to reveal anything about him.

"I'm not—" he began, but the elder raised a hand.

"I know what you are, Jolthar of the human lands. You are human, only a little. You are something more as well." The elder gestured for him to approach the table.

"The chaos within you does not fight against your divine essence—it intertwines with it. That should not be possible."

As Jolthar approached, he saw that the table was actually a shallow basin filled with a liquid similar to what he had seen in the village centre.

The elder passed his hand over it, and images formed on its surface—constellations, celestial bodies, lines of force connecting them.

"Your ancestor", the elder continued, "the one who sent you to us—he was very greedy after learning the truth about chaos. He wanted more of it; he wanted to achieve deityhood through chaos."

"Our lord deity told us to be careful with whom we impart the knowledge of chaos."

Jolthar frowned. "You speak of him as if he still lives."

The elder's lips curved in what might have been a smile. "Time moves differently for beings like him. For beings like you may become."

The liquid in the basin shifted, forming a new pattern—a genealogy written in light, tracing back through Jolthar's lineage. His mother's line, and then further back, to names and faces he didn't recognise.

Elder frowned as the liquid in the basin trembled violently, and all of a sudden, the liquid shot up and then dispersed into the air like a mist.

The elder and Jolthar were startled by the abrupt turn of events. Elder was shocked as he stared at Jolthar.

Elder raised his hand again and summoned the liquid into the basin. The liquid appeared from above and flowed into the basin. He repeated what he did earlier; again, the liquid turned into mist.