Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

"Mother?"

Eight-year-old Karanas stood on the deck, looking up at his mother beside him. The sea breeze had ruffled his hair, but he didn't care; he just stared intently at his mother's face, trying to find an answer.

Kolia seemed not to hear. She stood beside her son, her gaze passing over the ship's railing and landing on the distant land.

People, so many people, thousands? Tens of thousands?
She wasn't sure either.

In short, it was all people.

Stretching from the coastline to the inland highlands, the densely packed figures transformed the entire hillside into an open-air theater. The colorful robes, flags, and tents shimmered in the sunlight, creating a vibrant tapestry she had never seen before.

"Mother?"

Karanas reached out and grabbed his mother's hand, pulling it hard. Her hand was cold, colder than he remembered.

"Ok?"

Kolya snapped out of her daze and was about to ask, "What's wrong?" when she swallowed her words. She saw the people on deck begin to move—not in a chaotic surge, but in an orderly, slow motion. They started walking towards the beach using the planks. The planks, resting between the ship's gunwale and the sand, made a dull thud, like the drumbeats of some kind of ritual.

She looked down at her son, a kind smile spreading across her face. There was something in that smile that Karanas couldn't understand, but he knew it was his mother smiling. She reached out and touched the back of his head, her warm palm smoothing the wind-blown strands of hair, then gently tidying it up, pressing down a few stray hairs. Then, she took his hand and led him into the queue.

The line was filled with people. Some pairs, like the two women, were mothers and children, the mothers holding their children's hands tightly while the children looked around curiously. Some were elderly veterans, clad in armor and carrying weapons. Their armor was scratched and dented, but polished to a shine, as if specially prepared for today. Others were unarmed elderly men, leaning on canes, their steps faltering, yet insisting on walking on their own, refusing assistance.

After disembarking, the Asur from Tal Andal, under the command of the silver-helmeted knights and soldiers, marched in an orderly fashion toward the "stand." The armor of the silver-helmeted knights gleamed in the sunlight, their voices steady and powerful, repeatedly indicating the direction, yet no one showed impatience.

"Mother?"

"Ok?"

Why are there so many people?

Karanas's voice came from below, carrying the persistent curiosity typical of a child.

“Because… today is a very important day.” Coria carefully chose her words. She didn’t know exactly how important it was, but she saw so many people, so many ships, and so many important figures she had never seen before.

She knew this must be very important.

"Do we need to...do anything?"

"Look?" Kolia shook her head, responding uncertainly. Her tone held the unease of a mother facing a question about her child; she didn't want to say "I don't know," but she truly didn't know what else to say.

Her life was originally very peaceful.

The war, the arrival of Duruci, and the Kingdom of Kosquie's shift to Duruci's embrace—these things were irrelevant to her. Her husband was a member of the navy, spending most of his time at sea, but that was his business, a soldier's business. Her task was to play the role of a good mother, to raise Karanas well, and to bring him to adulthood.

She would not be drafted before this.

Each performs its own duties without interfering with the others.

But their peaceful life was disrupted.

Princess Tratina, who had originally gone hunting in the Kraken, suddenly abandoned her hunt and hurriedly returned to Tal Andal to gather the remaining ships. She and her child, like other mothers and children, were notified to board the ships.

No one told them why, only that "we need you to come." After boarding the ship, on the way there, she heard many things, some too incomprehensible, some too unbelievable, and some... she didn't know whether to believe them.

All she knew was that they were coming to witness the ceremony.

As for what ceremony to observe?

do not know.

Karanas didn't respond to her; her son's attention was drawn to something, and he turned his face in another direction, his eyes wide open.

"Those are... the Avalon sisters? The Eternal Hands?"

The child's exclamation was tinged with an almost pious tremor.

Yes, my child.

Kolia, equally drawn to the sights, glanced at them for a moment before responding with certainty. She couldn't mistake the white robes, the silver hair ornaments, the bows and arrows gleaming in the sunlight.

After saying that, she sighed and looked down at her child.

The appearance of the Avalon sisters stirred up some memories for her.

She had visited the Kingdom of Avalon, not just once, but twice.

However, for the first time, she traveled by land, not by sea. Starting from Tal-Vell, she traversed the crater mountains, crossed the Valley of Sorrow, and arrived at the border between the Kingdom of Avalon and the Kingdom of Saffre, from where she entered the Kingdom of Avalon. The road was difficult to travel; the mountain paths were rugged, the valleys were cold and gloomy, and giant beasts often roamed there. It took her two weeks to reach her destination.

But at that time, she was unmarried and filled with a thirst for adventure; otherwise, she wouldn't have risked taking that path. She wanted to become one of the Avalon sisters, serving the Eternal Queen. That was the dream of countless Asur maidens—to stand beside the Queen, to become a part of Avalon, to become that legendary being.

Unfortunately... she wasn't selected.

It wasn't that she lacked ability, nor that she was unattractive, it was... she didn't know why, and she still hadn't found the answer.

In short, she returned to Tal Andar, got married, had children, and lived a peaceful life.

The second time was after her marriage, when she and her husband traveled by ship to the Kingdom of Avalon for a pilgrimage. The journey went smoothly that time, with a calm sea and gentle winds.

Soon after, she became pregnant with Karanas.

"Can I be like them someday?" Karanas's voice came from below, filled with the innocent longing unique to a child. His gaze was still fixed on the white-robed, silver-haired Avalon sisters, as if drawn by some invisible thread.

Kolya was amused. She looked down at her son's earnest little face, and the corners of her mouth involuntarily turned up. But she quickly suppressed the urge; laughing too hard in front of her child would make him feel mocked. She suppressed her smile into a small curve at the corners of her mouth, but her eyes still couldn't hide the urge.

"No, that won't work."

"Why?" Karanas frowned, his expression one of earnest confusion after being rejected, like a little adult.

“Because you are a man,” Coria said softly but firmly, “you need to choose another option.”

"Okay~" He drew out the last syllable, with a sense of compromise that said, "I don't quite understand, but Mom's word is law." He shifted his gaze from the Avalon sisters and began searching the crowd for the next object that piqued his curiosity.

These Avalon sisters were also responsible for maintaining order, and in addition to that, they were also responsible for leading the newcomers to their designated locations. Their figures moved through the crowd, their white robes standing out sharply in the sunlight, like some kind of moving signpost.

After Karanas stopped asking questions, Coria, who was holding her son's hand, started looking around anxiously.

There were so many people! Higher up the hillside were tents, densely packed together like mushrooms sprouting after the rain. Clearly, these tents belonged to those who had arrived before them. Next came a large crowd of spectators, mostly mothers and children, or veterans and the elderly.

She had the illusion that everyone in the entire Kingdom of Kosqui was there.

Next came fully armed soldiers, but their numbers were far fewer than those of the spectators.

She knew that many sailors and soldiers, like her husband, were on missions. They were still at sea, in places she couldn't name, guarding the ships, the routes, and the borders of the elven world.

She lingered her gaze on the group of soldiers for a long time because she noticed something strange.

“Mom, are those…people? Reptiles?” Karanas also noticed the strange creatures. He lowered his voice, as if asking a question he shouldn’t have.

"I don't know either." Coria's voice also lowered.

“Lizardman!” Following behind Coria and her son Karanas was an old sea guard in full armor.

His armor bore several deep, irreparable scratches, and a faded old scar on his left cheek, but his back was straighter than anyone else's. He began to explain, his voice hoarse yet steady.

He had served at Dawnhold long ago and had seen the lizardmen, though the encounter was not friendly.

"Lizard people? Are those Duruchi's allies?" Karanas, the man of a hundred thousand questions, started again. He poked his head out from beside his mother and looked at the old sea guard behind him, his eyes full of curiosity.

Old Haiwei laughed and replied in a strange tone.

"Also our allies?"

That tone was so strange, it was as if he was saying something that he had to put a lot of effort into making himself believe.

It's like saying, "I love going to work, going to work makes me happy."

A low chuckle rippled through the ranks, not mocking, but the kind of knowing, unspoken laughter that everyone understood. Karanas joined in, though he wasn't sure what the adults were laughing about; laughter is contagious, after all.

Kolya, who was also smiling, revealed a complicated expression. Unlike her son, she knew why Old Haiwei responded in that strange tone and why everyone was laughing.

Soon, the spectators from Tal Andar arrived at their designated spots. On the hillside, a roughly marked but spacious area offered views of the distant coastline, the cleared ground, and the tents of those who had arrived earlier and settled in.

But the ceremony didn't start immediately, because the auspicious time hadn't arrived yet...

There's a story behind this auspicious time; you can refer to the time when Nagarus, after becoming relatively stable, assembled a massive fleet and headed for Aishriel.

That time, we could have set off during the day, but we chose to depart in the middle of the night.

Well, as it turns out, the operation went very smoothly...

Not all Kosqui people are followers of Matheranism, but Kosqui is one of the core supporters of the Matheran faith.

Therefore, the time for the ceremony was determined by Serene, the daughter of Matheran. She was in the procession, and her judgment was the sea's decision.

Of course, while waiting, the spellcasters who weren't participating in the ceremony weren't idle either. They thoughtfully livestreamed the event, making it easier for spectators at higher vantage points, who could only see a general outline, to get a more detailed view.

Specifically, it manifests as a magical curtain that displays the image on the curtain.

Yes, a huge display screen.

The moment the image appeared, a murmur of discussion erupted from the spectators. There were all sorts of comments, as there were many elements to consider. Some exclaimed at the image's clarity, some tried to identify the figures in the picture, some tried to understand "how was this done," and some explained to those around them, "What kind of technology is this by Duruci?"

The sound rose like a tide, then slowly receded, turning into a continuous, low hum.

“Are those frogs... also lizardmen?” Karanas pressed on again, pointing to a corner of the screen where several enormous figures sat on palanquins. Even through the curtain, he could feel their ancient and heavy presence, so out of place with their surroundings.

But this time, his mother did not respond to him.

Kolia stared blankly at the image. On it stood the elegant Eternal Queen, her white robes as white as snow, her long hair flowing like a waterfall, and she seemed to be enveloped in a soft light. This was the second time she had seen the Eternal Queen. The first time was in Avalon, when she caught a glimpse of her from afar among the pilgrims, only seeing a blurry, luminous silhouette.

This time, through this huge screen, up close, I could clearly see the curve of her eyelashes.

Soon, her attention turned to the figure standing side by side with the Eternal Queen.

The curtain was so clear that she could even see that the two people's facial features were somewhat similar, with the same jawline, the same brow bone arch, and the same indescribable, engraved-in-their-bones, blood-and-blood-blood-like features.

An answer appeared in her mind.

She didn't say anything, she just stood there, holding her son's hand, looking at the huge screen and at the two figures standing side by side. The sea breeze blew in from afar, carrying a salty smell and some kind of scent that she couldn't quite describe, a scent belonging to the new era.

"Marekis?"

Old Haiwei lowered his voice and uttered the answer that Kolia had in her heart. His voice was very soft, as if he was afraid of being overheard, but in that brief silence, it was enough for everyone around him to hear clearly.

A new round of discussion has emerged, like ripples on water's surface caused by the wind. Whispers spread from several points, some confirming, some questioning, and some trying to understand what this means.

However, before the discussion could gain traction, a series of bugle calls brought it to an end.

The ranks of spectators fell silent, as if someone had pressed countless mute buttons simultaneously. The whispers, the exclamations, the rustling of fabrics were all swallowed up by the sound of the horns, leaving only the sound of the wind and the tide.

The auspicious time has arrived!

There were no speeches, no address, nothing at all. Only the spellcasters, about to begin the ceremony, stood in their pre-assigned positions. No one addressed the audience into the microphone as "Distinguished guests," and no one read any lengthy eulogy from the platform.

Things that belonged to parliament, the court, and diplomatic occasions were left in the city.

On this beach, there was only the ceremony. Thanks to the magical curtain, Coria didn't need to pick up her son. So, she focused all her attention on watching the ceremony, sometimes looking down and sometimes looking up at the curtain. The view below was real, while the curtain was a close-up. Alternating between the two created a strange sense of presence, as if she were standing in two places at the same time.

Like his mother, the bewildered Karanas stared intently. Though he had many questions and doubts, he knew this wasn't the time to ask; he had to remain silent. This was what his mother had told him on the ship, and the silence of everyone around him further reinforced this. He swallowed back his "whys," focusing intently on the enormous curtain.

Soon, he saw the frog sitting on the stone chair in the center of the ceremony slowly raise its hand. The movement was so slow, as if it were in water, that he thought someone had slowed down the curtain.

At the same time, several frogs surrounding the frog also raised their hands, just as slowly and in sync, as if they were being pulled by the same invisible thread.

Next came the elven spellcasters, each assuming their own unique starting stance: some with hands clasped, some with one palm thrusting forward, some with fingertips touching, and some with arms outstretched. From the curtain, the figures and the enormous forms intertwined, forming a pattern he couldn't understand but found incredibly powerful.

And then no more.

He has no second vision; he can't feel anything.

The sky remained clear and blue, and the wind was still strong.

Besides the wind, there was only the sound of the tide.

Swish...swish...swish...a monotonous, repetitive sound that has never changed since he can remember.

After a moment, the scene on the screen shifted. The camera pulled back from the center of the ceremony, panning across the rows of figures standing there. Karanas watched intently, but sadly, he only recognized Princess Trasina among them. She stood in the front row, her armor gleaming, her hair tightly tied back, looking far more serious than she had in Tal Andal. But his gaze lingered on Trasina for only a second; he was drawn to the lone figure standing before her.

The strangely dressed figure stood there with its eyes closed, its left hand behind its back, while its right hand... was swinging erratically? The movement was unlike a spellcaster's starting stance, unlike a warrior's starting stance, and unlike any movement he had ever seen before.

It looks like it's drawing something, yet it looks like it's not drawing anything at all; it looks like it's directing something, yet it looks like it's just its hands are idle.

While everyone else remained still, waiting, and maintaining a solemn posture, this person's right hand moved.

Does it make you seem unconventional? Out of place?
The ceremony was still going on, and the wind was still blowing.

The being's right hand was still waving, at least in Karanas's world. He stared at that hand for a long time, until his eyes were a little sore, but the hand continued to waving, slowly and steadily, as if drawing a circle that could never be finished.

But for some people, it's not like that.

At first, Darrowland did not understand Darkus's abstract gestures. He thought they were some kind of ritual gesture unique to Darrow, or some kind of magical initiation gesture that he did not understand.

But as time went by, he understood.

That wasn't a gesture, a ritual, or magic.

That's a melody.

That was the melody of surging tides.

As a nobleman, a well-educated nobleman, a Kosquien nobleman, and someone who understood music, he hummed along with the waving hand.

The humming was very soft, so soft that only he could hear it. But the melody was right; it was the rhythm of the tide, the cadence of the waves crashing on the shore, the sound that every Kosquieu sailor had heard his whole life on the ship, on the dock, and under the eaves of his own house.

As the humming began, the other nobles also came to understand Darkus's abstract actions.

As a result, more nobles joined in the humming.

The sounds gradually converged, from a single person's murmur to the resonance of several people, and then to a small group singing in unison. The melody had no lyrics, only pitch, rising and falling, rising and falling.

Like the tide rising and receding; like the wind blowing from the sea and dissipating on the land.

Sound can travel.

As the nobleman's humming spread to the ranks of soldiers, those soldiers who dealt with the sea did not need musical training or the nobleman's upbringing; they only needed to hear the melody to know what it was.

That was the first sound they heard when they woke up each day, the last sound they heard before they went to sleep, and the background noise that never stopped in their lives.

So they joined in the humming. The soldiers' voices were lower, rougher, but more powerful than the nobles', as if they were vibrating directly from their chests.

The sound continued to spread, and the spectators at the top joined in. Mothers and children, veterans and elderly people—they may not understand politics, they may not understand magic.

But they understand the tides!

I've known it since I was born.

The sound traveled down the hillside and then rose up from the coastline, spreading out layer by layer like the tide.

At this moment, Karanas's experience was peculiar. He seemed to understand, yet he also seemed not to. But whether he understood or not, it didn't hinder his humming and resonance. He opened his mouth, uttering a childish, slightly off-key note, and then, swept up by the surrounding sound waves, continued singing. His voice was very soft, so soft that he himself could hardly hear it, but he was singing.

It was as if he was born to belong to the sea, just like his father.

The ceremony was still going on, and the chanting continued.

The sound was no longer a hum; it had become a resonance, a pulsation emanating from everyone's chest, synchronized with the tide. No conductor, no sheet music was needed; everyone knew what the next note would be, because the tide had already told them.

But gradually, Dakota's hand stopped waving. The right hand, which had been drawing in the air for so long, slowly and steadily fell down.

His eyes opened.

The sound of the tide disappeared.

It's not weakening, not receding, it's disappearing, as if someone turned the volume knob of the entire ocean to zero.

The wind was still blowing, the flags were still waving, people's mouths were still open, and the humming continued, but the sound of the tide was gone. That eternal, ceaseless rushing sound, which had never stopped since the dawn of the world, had now vanished from the coastline of Anireen.

The humming of the spectators gradually ceased, one by one. It was as if they were waking from a dream, or as if some force had gently pressed their lips to theirs. On the hillside, on the beach, in the ranks, all was silent.

It is not a silence of awe, nor a silence of tension, but a silence of waiting.

Everyone is listening, trying to hear if that vanished voice will ever return.

Karanas gripped his mother's hand tightly, forgetting to let go. He didn't know what had happened. But he knew something had just occurred.

At that moment, the image on the magic curtain shifted to White Bay.

Karanas stared wide-eyed at the curtain, seeing the seawater receding rapidly, not slowly and rhythmically like the ebb tide, but as if someone had pulled the plug from the seabed, the entire sea was pouring out in one direction.

The ships that had carried them all the way from Tal Andar were now drifting away from the shore with the receding tide, being swept back into the open sea. There were no crew members on board, and no sails were hoisted on the masts, yet the ships were moving backward in an orderly fashion, without a single collision or deviation from their course.

It's like... these ships are like chess pieces, manipulated by an unseen hand. Precisely, calmly, and unequivocally, they are moved one by one to their proper places.

Gradually, the seabed emerged. Rocks that had been covered by seawater for thousands of years, reefs that had never seen the sun, and sandbars that occasionally appeared, all surfaced one after another.

Even more amazingly, the seawater seemed to be pushed aside by an unseen hand using unseen tools, and the receding seawater formed a wall of water in the distance, vertical and orderly, as if it were contained in a giant glass container.

The water wall shimmered with a deep blue light under the sunlight, remaining perfectly still, as if time and the laws of physics had failed before it.

As the tide receded, the ground trembled faintly. At first, it was just the sand underfoot gently pulsating, as if something was turning over underground; then the tremors became more pronounced, traveling from the soles of the feet up the calves, up the spine, and into everyone's bones.

The vibrations changed from a low rumble to a roar, not a roar that could be heard, but a roar that could be felt by the body. It was as if the whole world was emitting a low, ancient cry that had been suppressed for thousands of years!
The ranks of onlookers descended into chaos, yet not quite. Some gasped, some crouched, some helped each other up. Compared to the tremors and the feeling of being unsteady, the astonishing scene was paramount; no one could afford to worry about their own balance in the face of such a spectacle.

Kolia, her hands gripping Karanas's shoulders tightly, her knuckles white and her arms taut, offered no comfort or glance at her son. Her gaze was fixed on the direction of Anireen, on the ruins she had only heard of in legends and seen in books, the lost homeland of the Kosqui people, the city swallowed by the sea for millennia.

At that moment, she finally understood what the ritual of observation was.

Karanas, having regained his footing, held his breath and looked at Anireen. He gazed at the ruins, submerged for countless centuries, slowly rising from the water amidst the tremors.

First came the highest spire, then the crumbling dome, then the broken city walls, and then entire stretches of rooftops and streets. Seawater cascaded down from between the rocks, forming countless tiny waterfalls that refracted the sunlight into fleeting rainbows.

The scene was so shocking, so unreal, it was as if someone had pulled a painting that had been in the water for a thousand years out of the water, the paint still wet and dripping down.

This scene had a profound impact on his young mind.

Never to be forgotten!

Unforgettable!

Once Aniren fully surfaced, the image on the magical curtain shifted again, this time to the ritual procession. The frogs—Kalanas still croaked as he always did—still held their hands high, their posture almost unchanged, as if they had been part of the sculpture from the very beginning of the ritual.

The being standing not far from the Eternal Queen drew its longsword.

There were no speeches, no "for glory," no "for the kingdom," and none of those pre-war declarations that we'd read ourselves to death in storybooks.

There is only one word.

The word, amplified by magic, spread far and wide, reaching the hillsides, the ranks, and the ears of everyone.

"kill!"

The voice wasn't loud or impassioned; it even carried a strange calmness. Yet, it reached everyone's ears, as clear as if it were being spoken right next to them.

Unfortunately, Kolia's understanding was only what she understood. She thought it was a revival ceremony, and that Anireen's resurrection was all there was to it all.

Unbeknownst to her, the entire ceremony was orchestrated by Darkus. He wanted much more than just Anireen surfacing.

Although the elven nobles are often abstract, full of calculations, schemes, and intricacies that outsiders cannot understand or accept, they have accomplished one thing.

I am the Good Shepherd, the Good Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.

This passage doesn't exist in elven society, but the elven nobles have put it into practice!

When Lawrence was in Laurent, Darkus led his party into the rift, and none of the elves who followed him backed down.

During the Battle of Lor'then, Aisling and Kledan, who saw the Slaanesh for the first time, charged towards the demon despite their fear, fulfilling their duty.

There are too many examples to count.

After Aniren sank into the sea, the city was eventually occupied by the remnants of the old era.

As for the so-called "remnants of the old era," what are they?
Can it be understood as a fish-man?
Those half-fish, half-human creatures with barnacles and moss on their scales are everywhere, and elves often witness or fight them. Navigating the underground sea, in particular, is not so safe.

They nest among the reefs, hide in shipwrecks, and surface in the darkness, staring at passing vessels with their murky, pupil-less eyes.

There are too many examples to count.

But today, they no longer occupy forgotten reefs, nor deserted islands whose names cannot be found on maps. They occupy Anileen—an elven city, a city taken by the sea, but never forgotten by the elves.

Led by Malekith, the elven spellcasters, no longer maintaining the ritual, raised their staffs or drew their longswords, and charged forward in his wake. Their robes fluttered in the sea breeze, their blades gleamed coldly in the sunlight, and their footsteps echoed dully on the newly emerged stones.

Immediately afterwards, Darkus, wielding a trident, also moved.

Like ripples, it spread outwards from him in layers. The brave soldiers of the Kosquieu nobles beside him also moved, followed by the soldiers further back and higher up.

The ripples spread up the coastline, from the ceremonial procession up the hillside, and from those at the front to those at the back.

The sounds of battle filled the air.

The old sea guard standing beside Karanas reached out and patted his shoulder forcefully. The hand was heavy, so heavy that Karanas felt his shoulder shrink several inches. When their eyes met, the old sea guard nodded heavily at him. The nod was slow and forceful, like the final movement of some ritual.

Old Haiwei said nothing, but it seemed like he said everything?

Then, he pushed through the crowd and joined the charging ranks. His armor gleamed in the sunlight, and although his pace was slower than the younger men, each step was steady.

He didn't turn around.

Karanas watched his figure disappear into the crowd, into those figures running, shouting, and rushing forward. His mouth was slightly open, but he couldn't speak. His hands were still in the position they had been in after being patted, not lowered. His mother stood behind him, her hands still on his shoulders, not lowered either.

On the hillside, mothers and children, the elderly, and those who had come from Tal Andar and Kosquiat to witness the ceremony stood there, watching the land that had just emerged from the water and the figures charging forward.

No one spoke, only the sound of the wind, footsteps, shouts, and the silent sea that had been pushed aside. (End of Chapter)