"Seven Evils" (just a simple title for now)

[Akamai Deredal]

Okay, lets see if I can actually do this right this time. If anyone has any questions as to what the story is about, just PM me. Can't put the spoilers directly in the thread, don'tcha know. Anywho... so far I have the Prologue and first chapter done... Let me know what you think.

(All my ideas are copy righted! lol! Mine! *licks it* MINE!)

[Akamai Deredal]

In this age, many have tried to write scrolls on one subject that still mystifies them; our past. They say it is so that we do not repeat those mistakes that brought us our downfall, but any person with common sense would be able to see past their veils of deceit. They write to understand. Very few individuals still roam this earth who know what happened to the races in the War of Kodanya; the War that started, or perhaps ended it all. There is one scripture that captures the three year long war in all its bloody detail. This scripture was written by a woman, a woman who knew the terrifying, painful experience as her own reality. Her name was Aitana.
~~~
“Since the wheel of our time has begun to spin, counting and measuring the span of life given to each person, there has been war. In those times, it was over things that were thought to be just causes; freedoms, land rights and to protect families. Truly, war is something we would have liked to have never seen, something that tears us apart inside, taints our hearts and souls with unbearable memories. But there was one, where we fought for everything real to us. In that war, it is said we gained many new freedoms and were allowed many new ideals, but something few people know, or remember, are those precious few things we lost.”

“Humans fought the war, because a disease threatened to engulf the world. No power-craving king or psychotic rebel leader, but a disease. The virus is what we call hatred. In the land of Kodanya, many races lived amongst each other with little trouble. Granted, they had their disagreements, but nothing serious. No one is quite sure what brought this strain of disease, for no one had ever seen anything like it. It struck the elves first and hardest, them being the purest of heart in our land. The disease spread rapidly, driving the elves half mad with hatred for everything around them. Before we knew what was happening, they waged all out war against the humans.”

“Elves were indeed the most abundant of races, so the humans stood little chance against them in open war. Our plight spread like wildfire throughout the whole of Kodanya and brought hundreds flocking to our rescue. The few elves that had managed to escape the madness joined our ranks willingly, along with the satya, trolls, dragons, kostalya, lynethe, nirav and many others. To whoever’s reading this, you would not know of most of these races; the few that came out of the war alive disappeared into the unknown lands of Kodanya, so let me try to describe them the best I can.”

“The lynethe is where I will start. They themselves were much like the elves, but were shunned by their close brethren, and by the humans. Lynethe were considered to be half-elven, born with the gracefulness and magic of the elves and the reasoning of the humans. Tapered ears were the only physical characteristic similar to the elves, that and their inability to be thought of as anything other than beautiful by anyone who saw them. Most of their features were of human likeness though. The strangest thing, perhaps, is the fact that they were not half-elven, but of as pure of blood as both human and elves. They fought gallantly, their knowledge of any weapon making them adept fighters, which saved many lives but their own.”

[Akamai Deredal]

“Next I bring you to the nirav. A race of unknown origin, mysterious in their doings and beliefs. They struck fear into every heart as their battalions marched down the empty streets, and through nearly deserted villages. The first time I saw them was in the second year of the War. Two armies of them had been scattered and run ragged by the frequent attacks the elves launched on them. White and black were their colors. Canine features marked them apart from any other creature I’d seen. Wolf-like in their species, they bore snouts, ears, tails and paws. Many of them traveled on all fours, but others traveled as if they were human, striding on their hind legs. I met one of them once, and they proved to be thick skinned, and well seasoned warriors, but good loyal companions. But disaster struck when the disease started spreading through their ranks. Their bite was deadly, the poison in their fangs lethal to anyone it entered. I lost many good friends to their Corrupted comrades.”

“The kostalya were perhaps the most noble of all the races that had made Kodanya their home. With features much like the humans, the only thing that set them apart made it impossible to mistake them for any other race. Violet eyes looked out from blue tinted faces. Their skin carried a blue hue to it, that varied in its shades, but all had the same violet eyes, and midnight black locks. Graceful in an almost fragile way, they surprised me greatly by keeping many groups from complete destruction with their finesse in battle. Many of them had learned the arcane arts of magic, cleaving through the attacks and almost brushing them aside. I fear if they had not come to our aid, all would have been lost. But that had meant sacrificing so much for them.”

“As for the others, I’m sure you’ve read about them. The grand stone halls of the satya, and their fine forging abilities, as well as the warriors that wield their weapons. Dragons and their great hoards of riches. And the trolls you think are just monsters that mothers use to scare their children into behaving. Most of what you’ve read about the satya are correct, for they would not allow anyone to write anything but the truth about them. But the trolls are not the monsters most make them out to be. Much like their cousins the giants they hide out in the mountains now, trying to add to their numbers in safety. A wise choice made on their part, for they lost many a warrior to the first unexpected rays of sunlight. But the dragons you have all wrong. They had riders, warriors of their own kind. No one is quite sure what to call them, other than well, ‘The Riders,’ of course. Many of them were human and elves, and probably a fair amount of others. These individuals were unmatched in their battle prowess, tuned in with their dragons and each other as well they were all but impossible to understand, or conquer.”

[Akamai Deredal]

“We lost all hope when one of the Riders became infected with the virus. Soon others had joined him, his infection spreading to his dragon and others. Above us the sky was bleak with a week’s worth of thunder clouds. The wind whipped at our fatigued bodies, weary with months of fighting. Screams rent the sky, blending in with the horrendous sound of the dragon’s pained roars up above. Moans of the dying and broken hearted broke through occasionally, blending with the cacophony of war cries, shouts and the eerie clanging of steel upon steel.”

“Blood rained from the sky above us and ran in rivulets across the ground, mixing in with the endless rain. It was almost as if the world were crying for us, trying to wash away all our pain and fears. I wish it would have succeeded. Rivers ran red, snow trampled and littered with the bodies of the dead. Mountains were stained with our blood, villages pillaged and burned, along with the mounds of the ones we had lost. Homes wrecked, lives ruined and ended. By the time the war was finished very few were left to stand, and none of them stood with pride. We had all lost so much, and seen too much pain to find pride and relief in our victory, if you could call it that at best. Races which had once been in the thousands had now dwindled to the hundreds, maybe even dozens. The survivors fled to the safety of what was once their homes, perhaps to start over again and make the best of what they had left, or perhaps to cry themselves to sleep at night, never to wake again.”

“We humans were one of the races that managed to pick up after the massacre and make the best of things. We returned to our normal lives, or at least, as close as we could come to it. Cities were rebuilt, and we managed to start anew, with a clean slate. We wiped all memory of the disaster from our minds, and eventually it was forgotten. But we should not forget, for history repeats itself if we do not learn from it. Let us pray that the generations that come after us can learn from our mistakes, if only we could remember what we forced ourselves to forget.”


And now I bring you to the end of my Prologue, Scripture of the Past, and onto my first chapter, A Weakness is Found. Hope this at least caught a few people's attention... if not, I'll survive I'm sure, lol.

[Akamai Deredal]

Seven shadowed forms crept silently between the boulders that littered the flat surface of the plateau. The quiet sweeping of their cloaks and the occasional disturbed pebble were the only noises that disturbed the tense night air. Upon reaching the temple, they hesitated and the tension increased a hundredfold, to the point of breaking. With a quiet murmur, the leader of the group tread softly into the shrine with the others trailing uncertainly behind.

A light flickered suddenly from the corner of the room, the crackling of burning sap bringing the darkness filled space to life. The seven individuals dropped the hoods away, revealing the fair, slender features of the elves. Multi-hued eyes darted around the area as the rest of the ancient torches were lit, illuminating the chamber with a cheery dancing light, though it held no warmth for those who had come. They were here for one purpose; to gain an access to a power none had ever imagined. Greed shone hungrily in each pair of eyes. Three of them, the women, stepped forward onto their marked pedestals, where a single stone lay at their feet. The four remaining followed suit, each man choosing a stone of his liking. Seven stones sat on their pedestals; one for each member.

Inside each stone was set a golden rune, each standing for a certain word in its own language. They were meant for each of the races that inhabited Kodanya; the elves, dragons, humans, satya, lynethe, nirav and the kostalya. Each rune was from each race’s ancient language. But the elves that stood on the stands this night knew of none of this. Nor did they know what the stones were set there for. Their idea was skewed. It was no way to gain power, but to give power to all the evils of the world. Words murmured in the ancient tongue reverberated throughout the temple, and the ground quaked violently as the ritual continued. Dust fell from between the stones that held the building up, but still they continued. The center-piece, a multi-colored, layered stone wobbled precariously in its elevated stand but somehow managed not to fall.

A loud screeching noise picked up keen in the air, piercing the finely tuned elven ears. Two of the women fell to their knees as the sound continued, and the remaining one quavered as blood trickled from one ear. The ground shook violently, making those standing struggle to stay upright, and look around nervously to wonder how much longer the foundations would hold. But still they continued on. A sudden explosive crack ricocheted off the walls. The centerpiece had broken, it’s first colored layer spider webbed with fine cracks. An eerie howling rent the air and all the elves fell to the stone floor, screaming with a sudden emotion none of them had ever felt. Hate. Only one man stood, oblivious to the agony around him. His eyes held a glazed over look, and his hands hung motionless at his side. And thus began the War of Kodanya.
~~~

[Akamai Deredal]

Istas’ mount gnashed at the bit in its mouth in irritation as it stumbled through the woods. Around her were the remains of a once fine race. In the whole of Kodanya there now were only a few hundred elves left, where they had once thrived. With an exhausted sigh, the young woman swung down out of her saddle. She bit back a shout as her arm flared with pain. “Istas, climb back in that saddle.” Istas recognized her father’s voice. Ignoring him, she carefully lifted her younger brothers into the saddle. Her father rode up beside them, the outrage of being disobeyed evident in his eyes. “I thought I to-” “Hush father, please. I am able to walk on my own, and the little ones are tired.” Her father looked at his sons and sighed in resignation. Nodding he too dropped down from his steed’s back. “You worry yourself too much, father. I am old enough to take care of myself.” She said, smiling kindly at the older man. Laying his hand on her head he laughed, “Be that as it may, Istas darling, you aren’t faring so well in proving it to me.” He readjusted the bandage that held her arm and went to tend to the other wounded.

Watching her father lead her brothers off into the crowd of people, Istas smiled again. After all they’d been through, he had never wavered in his care for his children. At the beginning of the war, Istas mother had been killed in an unexplained accident; the temple she prayed at had collapsed upon her, bring an instantaneous death. There had been no other casualties, and there were only guesses as to what caused the accident. Some said she had angered her god; Istas had been in a rather one-sided fight with her mother the evening before and had sported a good many bruises to show for her loss. Others claimed it to be an earthquake, or perhaps just weak foundations for such an old building. All Istas knew though, was worry for her father. The man was surely strong willed, but to lose someone he loved so dearly…

“Istas! Do you have a moment?” A young man’s voice called out through the trees, making the elven woman turn around quickly. “I have nothing but time now, Siytan” She answered quietly as the tall, brown-haired young mad reached her. He gave her a small sympathetic smile. “I have something for you. The King sent for me to give it to you, as a payment for your father’s and your help with healing the wounded. He says he does not know how much it is worth, but he hopes it will suffice.” Siytan handed her a heavy pouch and turned to leave. “Wait, messenger boy.” Istas taunted, making his eyes narrow slightly. She smiled somewhat and hugged him tightly. Siytan laughed softly and shook his head, “You’re full of surprises, Istas. Take care.” He bowed slightly before trotting back through the small mass of people.

The pouch hung heavily from Istas’ wrist, and her attention lingered on it for the rest of the day. She didn’t much feel like checking for its worth at the moment. For one, she had a fair amount of respect for the King, and she trusted his judgment, and two, her father would insure the payment was not too hefty. He said he would not accept charity, no matter who it was from. As the sun’s rays faded, the travelers began to set up camp, starting multiple fires which attracted the elves like flies to honey. Most huddled against each other and rubbed their hands and arms in an attempt to warm themselves quicker. Jenoa, Istas’ father, sat down beside the young woman and embraced her. “Siytan told me we’ve been paid for our services. He told me I should look over it. Could you bring it to me, daughter?”

Unstringing the small bag from around her wrist, Istas handed it to Jenoa. The dark eyed man emptied the bag’s contents into his weathered hands, and he grunted in surprise at the object that rolled slightly in his palm. A perfectly round, polished white stone sat balanced in Istas’ father’s hand. A single golden rune lay inside the stone, perfectly visible through the material as if by magic. “What is that?” Istas asked breathily, her eyes wide with wonder. “My knowledge of gemstones is very limited, Istas, but I do know a few. This is an opal. A rather large one, worth a small fortune.” “We can’t accept this… It’s too much to ask for a simple healer’s skills.” Jenoa sighed, “If King Hivale has given us such a remarkable piece of work…” he paused to rolls the stone in his hand thoughtfully, “then he must have put a fair amount of reasoning behind his actions. Besides, we do not wish to insult him by returning such a gracious gift.”

[Akamai Deredal]

“But where are we to keep something so extravagant? Surely anyone will know it's worth quite a sum.” “The question is where you are going to keep it my dear. I have no use for a thing like this. So I’m putting it in your care. Do with it what you will.” Jenoa said, handing her the stone. Istas stared at the stone in awe. There were no seams in the stone, no cracks or blemishes. Nothing to show any wear on its surface. “Thank you, father.” She whispered, her voice giving evidence to her surprise. He chuckled and hugged her again.

Lost in her thoughts, Istas absentmindedly rolled the cool stone between her hands. She was vaguely aware that no matter how much she handled it or how long she held it, it stayed almost icy in its temperature. It went unaffected by the flames that danced before her. Watching the light flicker across the stone’s unmarred surface entranced Istas. The reflection of the flames were black, almost as if a shadow were mocking its heat. A few snatches of songs drifted to the girl’s ears and she pulled her eyes away from the stone. Raising her head, she saw a large circle of people, cheering and laughing. Dancers weaved in and out to the beat of a beautiful song. Laughter lit up in Istas’ eyes as she watched. It was due time for her companions to lighten their hearts with song and dance. Rising from her seat beside her own dying fire, Istas tucked her stone safely in her blanket roll, tied to her saddle as it was.

Dusting off her pants, Istas strode over to the throng. At her arrival many new cheers were thrown up, calling for her to join the dance. With a small smile on her face, the young woman watched the dance for an opening to appear. Soon enough they’d allowed a big enough space for the girl to join. Her entrance was seamless, and her movements practiced. Within moments she was lost in the music, laughing with the others. Familiar faces once shrouded with misery now blurred past her eyes, their sorrow replaced by smiles and tears of laughter. The music played on throughout the night for a few more hours before many people drifted off to their sites, and the dancers sat down, utterly exhausted. They had put everything into their dances, to bring joy to those in their company. Istas leaned heavily against her father, sleep making her vision swim and her thoughts reel. That night all went to bed with a light heart and a sense of happiness.

Screams of the dying tore through the sky, blood clouded her vision. Istas’ threw herself to the muddy ground with a cry as a dark shadow passed over her. A vile wind ruffled her bloodstained shirt. Peering up past her arms, Istas watched, cringing, as a mighty orange dragon flew overhead and wheeled to the left. Weapons clashed against each other, along with flesh and bone. Men and women of every race lay dead upon the ground, and many more fell as Istas watched. The terrible feeling of fear swallowed Istas mind, obscuring any hope of reasoning. Standing up, she let out a cry and threw her hands forward. Familiar faces, friends and family, all contorted with an unmatched madness rushed at her, and she could feel the tears stream down her cheeks. Murmuring words in the ancient tongue of her people, Istas felt a sudden bond with the nature around the fields. Drawing energy from everywhere she could, she sent it up into the sky. Lightning crashed down rapidly, striking those infected with the virus, sending large groups flying about with horrific screams.

Places in the fields suddenly rose up, other parts rolled viciously underfoot. Istas was dimly aware of others lending themselves to her actions. The sky glowed brighter than daylight with the frequent lightning strikes, hills rose and fell, swallowing their enemies and crushing them mercilessly. The air swirled around the mages, tingling with the amount of magic they were channeling. Istas felt her energy fade slowly, throughout the hours, but she couldn’t stop. Every muscle in her body trembled with fatigue, and she heard people shouting for her to stop, but she wouldn’t let go of the magic. This had to be ended. Blackness swept over Istas mind, soaking into every inch of her conscious thought. The screams faded away, swallowed by the shadows, and everything else soon followed, leaving Istas alone in the expanse of her mind.

[Akamai Deredal]

A sudden jolt woke Istas from her fevered dreams with a quiet groan. Whispered words were exchanged, and a damp rag was pressed on the girl’s forehead. “Istas, can you hear me?” Jenoa’s voice was soft and full of worry. Istas couldn’t comprehend what was going on, or what had happened. A firm hand found hers, and she grasped it tightly. Forcing her eyes open, Istas blinked a few times, trying to clear her blurred vision. On the bed beside her lay her little brothers, Byrn and Fendrial, curled up against her leg and arm. Her father leaned over her, his eyes shadowed from lack of sleep. “Wh-what happened?” Her throat was scratchy and her voice caught. “You never woke up after the celebration… Your forehead was burning, and the fever only just broke last night.” Pushing herself up carefully, so as to not wake her siblings, Istas looked around for a window of some sort. Failing daylight filtered in through the open doorway to the small shack.

“How long have I been… asleep?” “Four days. Let me send for some water.” Jenoa stood up and left the room. Istas ran her fingers through Byrn’s scraggly brown hair and sighed. The boy stirred somewhat under her touch, but lay still again when she pulled her hand away. A movement by her feet made her turn her gaze downwards to find Fendrial sitting up and scrubbing his eyes tiredly. “Istas, you’re awake.” He murmured happily, still groggy with sleep. His sister smiled and pulled the boy over to her, holding him close and laughing slightly. “Yes, Fen, I am. And blessedly happy I am at that.” The boy smiled and returned her cuddle. He shared the same stunning blue eyes his sister had, and both sets gleamed in the twilight.

Fendrial curled up under his sister’s arm, and soon dozed off again. When his breathing had evened out, Istas laid her head on her brother’s and sighed. Closing her eyes, she hummed quietly, almost inaudibly, to herself and her brothers, though the tune fell upon deaf ears. A few moments later, Jenoa returned with a pitcher of water and a bowl of broth. “This is all the herb mistress will allow me to give you. I hope it will do.” Istas nodded gratefully and slurped down the broth rather noisily. The liquid felt good on her parched throat, and the taste even better. Her stomach growled for more, and even Jenoa managed to laugh.

After a few days of monitored rest, and many hours of sleep, Istas was finally allowed to leave her bed. The fresh air was crisp that morning, biting at the young elf’s nose as she stepped outside into the frigid temperatures. Pulling her cloak around her tightly, she looked around at the terrain. The familiar lands of her home lay stretched out all around her. They’d come back to the plateau. A sudden joy sprang up unbidden in Istas’ heart, bringing a wide smile to her fair features. The snow lay thick on the ground, much of it still undisturbed by little children’s feet. Flakes fell from the sky, dusting the iced-over top layer with a thin cover of powder. Blinking and running a hand through her hair, Istas knocked most of the flakes off her form, though they were soon replaced by just as many more.

People greeted her warmly, patting her gently on the back, or embracing her for a brief second as they hurried on with their lives. But something was oddly different. It seemed as though those she was once so close to, had now begun to pull away. Everyone suddenly seemed detached from her. Istas’ joy cowered to the back of her mind, replaced with an unknown feeling. She felt as though there was an animosity between her and her kin.

Istas had the faint urge to grab a passerby and hit them. Appalled with herself, the girl started to stride quickly down the street. He steps quickened until she had began to run. Never in her life had she ever even considered bringing pain upon another individual. So to start thinking such things now was a great cause for Istas to worry.

“Going somewhere, little elfling?” Came a gruff deep voice, making Istas whirl around defensively. “King Hivale, I’m sorry, I did not realize I had passed you.” Istas curtsied deeply, which only lead to the man laughing. “It is good to see you well, Istas. Jenoa had been quite worried about your health.” “My father is constantly worrying about me, my Lord. He has other things that require his attention, not just I.” Hivale shook his head, “It is his duty as your father to care for you, and about you. Since your mother passed away he has had to care for Byrn, Fendrial and yourself on his own.” Istas nodded, “I know, but I feel I’m old enough to care for myself in most areas. And I help him with Byrn and Fen while he’s working.”

[Akamai Deredal]

“Even so, my dear, your father has his doubts in his abilities. Now, where pray tell, were you headed, if I may ask?” Istas looked out towards the lands beyond the plateau and found herself shrugging. “Somewhere away from here. It’s almost like I’m not meant to be here any longer.” “Whether you’re meant to be here or not, you have yet to heal from your fever. Now stop being foolish and head back to your bed.” The young elf shook her head stubbornly. “Even if you are the King, I cannot allow you to make my choices for me, sir.” Hivale nodded solemnly and sighed thoughtfully before speaking. “If it is truly your wish to leave, come with me to my stables. I’ll have someone pack your provisions, and allow you a choice of one mount.” The King nodded towards his home as he spoke. “It is my wish to leave, yes, but I cannot accept your offer. I will not take any charity.” Istas said, her voice cool and polite. “Who is to say it is charity? In fact, one might call it an order. Now come with me.” Hivale stepped behind Istas and gave her a gentle push in the direction of his estates.

Within the hour, Hivale had equipped Istas with a bay mare, sturdy and sound for traveling, but also light footed for quicker travel and a pack filled full of provisions, as promised. All the same, Istas grumbled things under her breath about not accepting charity. Allowing Hivale to help her up into the saddle, Istas stopped her grumbling and checked that her things were packed properly. “Do tell my father I’ve left, and help him in any way you can, dear King. He’s growing older by the day and he was never meant to mind children on his own.” Hivale nodded in agreement, “I will do all that I can, Istas, on that you have my word. Bryn and Fendrial will be raised by good hands, even if they aren’t fully raised by your father. Every parent needs their... vacations if you will.”

Bidding the King farewell, Istas spurred the horse forward, quickly leaving the small city behind her. The thundering of the mare’s hooves slowly became muffled as they descended from the plateau and onto the fields that spread out wide, coving most of the terrain for many miles. Istas didn’t know where she was headed, nor did she care. All she knew was that she needed to leave her home behind and find something, or someone. The thought faded away into the back of her mind, filing itself discreetly behind old memories and the thoughts of a once foolish child. With the wind rushing through her hair, Istas drove her horse relentlessly until night fell, and well into the midnight hours. She only stopped when she knew the horse could go no further, and even then she could not stand to stay for long, but she did not want to run the creature to death and forced herself to lay out camp for the night. The stars glinted up above Istas, holding her gaze until sleep descended upon her. Istas fell asleep trying to remember something, fighting to hold onto that fleeting memory.


And that brings us to the end of Chapter 1: A Weakness Is Found, (lol). I'll bring you Chapter Two: A Mortal's Fate, once it's finished, seeing as I only have the first three-four pages done. It's growing, if slowly! Hope you've enjoyed it so far!

[PippinTook]

akai! this is amazing! the way your presented it, the prolouge, the begining of the chapter, the chapter division, everything is magnificent. other than a few slight grammatical errors, you have a great piece of work onn your hands! Kudos to you, and keep writing!

-pip

[Akamai Deredal]

Stop it Pip, you're embarrassing me. Anywho... If you would be so kind as to point out my errors, I'll gladly fix them immediately. And thank you for the praise. I'm actually quite proud of this story too. I've written a lot of stories before this one, and every single one of them basically flopped, though some lasted quite a while before that happened. This is the first one, though, that actually has a plot line, that I've worked through completely. I really like the whole idea, but I'm not going to give that away. You'll just have to read. *evil grin* Bwahahaha! Anywho, off I go to work on the second chapter.

[PippinTook]

erm, one time you said, he instead of her. other than that, nothing i can think of at the moment! keep up the good work!
-pip

[Tessar]

Holy... eru...

MORE MORE MORE!

That was an AWSOME bit of writing you did there! I want more!

[PippinTook]

teehee, akai's grounded for like a week, so we won't be getting much for a while, godspeed to you akai!
-pippop

[Akamai Deredal]

I'm glad to hear at least 2 people enjoy reading what I've written. Don't worry Tessar, you'll get more quite soon, I'm sure, but i have a favor to ask of anyone who's been reading this. I've started an RPG in well, the RPG forum, and there are still places available... So if anyone wants one, they're welcome to join. Happy new year! ::runs off to write more for Tessar and Pip::

[PippinTook]

teehee, You know I luv ya akai! Please keep writing! and I am glad to see you are back!
-pip

[Elfmaster XK]

This is, on the whole a very well written story. I like the way you write. There were a few things I found that I would alter though, for smoother reading or to make it better grammatically. Of course this is just my humble opinion.

They say it is so that we do not repeat those mistakes that brought us our downfall, but any person with common sense would be able to see past their veils of deceit.

That sentence would read better if you wrote "brought our downfall upon us, but..."

Since the wheel of our time has begun to spin, counting and measuring

"Since the wheel of our time began to spin..."

To whoever’s reading this, you would not know of most of these races; the few that came out of the war alive disappeared into the unknown lands of Kodanya, so let me try to describe them the best I can.”

Because of the way you have chosen to write this story, I would write "To whoever may in the future read this, you..." because the style you have chosen is kind of formal, and having abbreviated whoever is seems to stand out to me.

The strangest thing, perhaps, is the fact that they were not half-elven, but of as pure of blood as both human and elves.

This doesn't quite make sense. Were you trying to say something like this: "but of blood as pure as either human or elf,"?

Two armies of them had been scattered and run ragged by the frequent attacks the elves launched on them.

"Two of their armies..."

to their Corrupted comrades

No need to capitalize corrupted.

But that had meant sacrificing so much for them.

I would switch this sentence around to say "But for them, that meant sacrificing so much," unless you are trying to say the humans had to sacrifice a lot to get their help?

Much like their cousins the giants they hide out in the mountains now, trying to add to their numbers in safety.

Add a comma after 'giants'.

These individuals were unmatched in their battle prowess, tuned in with their dragons and each other as well they were all but impossible to understand, or conquer.”

You need to separate this into two. Put the full stop before "They were all..." otherwise it is difficult to undersatnd.

“Blood rained from the sky above us and ran in rivulets across the ground, mixing in with the endless rain. It was almost as if the world were crying for us, trying to wash away all our pain and fears. I wish it would have succeeded.

That was my favourite part.

Let us pray that the generations that come after us can learn from our mistakes, if only we could remember what we forced ourselves to forget.”

I'm not sure what to say about this because it ends the prologue well. However I thought that it sounds like too much time has passed. If the woman who wrote it is human, and she also fought in the war then not too much time must have passed between then and when she wrote it. I dunno if you want to do anything about that or not. It's just what it came across as to me.

I am going to do the first chapter as well, but I haven't got time right now so will post again probably tomorrow or Monday.

But I will say this is a very good start. Thanks for posting it.

[Akamai Deredal]

Thank you very much for the critiquing ^_^ It's most appreciated, and I'll do my very best to get to fixing it. I do see what you're getting at on some of my sentence fluency. Thanks again for your support

[PippinTook]

“Blood rained from the sky above us and ran in rivulets across the ground, mixing in with the endless rain. It was almost as if the world were crying for us, trying to wash away all our pain and fears. I wish it would have succeeded.

I loved that part too! I wish I could write like that ::looks at story longingly:::
-pip

[Elfmaster XK]

Phew..sorry it took me a while to get back to you about this, I had to get chapter III and a damned short story out of my head before I did this. If I didn't do it before I went back to Uni it would never have got done.

The quiet sweeping of their cloaks and the occasional disturbed pebble were the only noises that disturbed the tense night air.

You used disturbed twice in the same sentence. How about changing the second one to "only noises that echoed on the tense night air," or something to that effect. "Permeated" is another option.

Multi-hued eyes darted around the area as the rest of the ancient torches were lit, illuminating the chamber with a cheery dancing light, though it held no warmth for those who had come.

This sentence would have more effect if you put a full stop after "dancing light." The last short sentence on its own would create more suspense.

The center-piece, a multi-colored,

Centrepiece is one word.

But still they continued on

Delete "on" or have something like "went on."

His eyes held a glazed over look

"Held a glazed look" is fine.

She bit back a shout as her arm flared with pain. “Istas, climb back in that saddle.” Istas recognized

Here, where you start having dialogue start the speech of each person on a different line. Ie.

"Istas, what are you doing?"
"I'm leaving..."
"No, you're not!" etc. Then add tags as needed.

tall, brown-haired young mad reached her.

Young mad? Not young man? Also, though you can leave it, I recommend losing descriptions like 'tall.'

. He said he would not accept charity, no matter who it was from.

"Whom it was from."

As the sun’s rays faded, the travelers began to set up camp, starting multiple fires which attracted the elves like flies to honey.

Comma after "fires."

“We can’t accept this… It’s too much to ask for a simple healer’s skills.”

Not to ask, as they didn't ask for it. I would say "it's too much in return for a simple healer's skills."

The reflection of the flames were black,

"reflection of the flames was black."

He steps quickened until she had began to run.

Her, not he.

And that is all I have for this chapter. Nice work. There were a couple of other places where I thought wording could be edited for better flow, but I couldn't actually think of a better way at the time, so left those in case I was being petty.

If you would like, in the future I can edit your work for you. I love to proof read, and being an English student and a writer myself I can spot common errors. And I like to think my grammar is impeccable.