The tyrant the elf and the child

" " speaking  ( ) thoughts 

upon a hillock lay an elf resting in a deep slumber a peaceful and serene atmosphere surround him the trees sway gracefully in the wind as light dances around him as if the sun has blessed him this is Volund the brightest and greatest of the light elves but despite the peace and tranquility there will always be those of nefarious intent a group of soldiers march upon his resting place lathered with there steel armor chains in hand they tie up the elf and carry him to the castle of there lord all the while the elf is blissfully unaware still in his deep slumber they walketh to the throne upon which sits there lord the mighty king Nithoth known for his strength and tyrrany over his kingdom lord of the Kingdom of Krigsforing and the soldiers kneel before the throne and drop the elf upon the ground the elf startles awake one of the soldiers speak "my lord we have brought the elf as you asked fo-" before he could finish his sentance his head was bruttaly sliced off by Nithoth and with a savage smile he speaks "did I give you permission to speak disgusting dirty peasent" he smiles gleefully kicking the corpse a blatant disrespect to the fallen "now where were we oh right the elf" he smiles and says "I hear your a smith is that right?" a spark of fear flashes in the elves eyes "y-yes thats right...I am adept at forging magical artifacts" the tyrant smiles and speaks again as a cruel glint sparks within him "cut off his tendons so he cant run away the elves face contorts in fear and anguish as he is pushed on the ground he screams as a stinging pain slams mercilessly on the back oh his legs as a  blade passes through his tendon and hearing his screams the king only smiles sadistically reveling in his suffering he grabs the elf from his hair and forces his face towards him and speaks "I have a little favor to ask of you all you half to do is forge weapons for my army so what do you say" the elf quivers in fear and speaks "ill do it! ill do it just please don't kill me" and so it was that Volund worked tirelessly day and night forging Nithoths  soldiers as they marched into battle against a neighboring country but as tragic as this is I think its time we change perspectives in a distant village in the kindom of Krigsforing a party was ongoing they danced and feasted and thank freya for her blessings of fertility upon there land but if you have heard of murphy's law anything that can go wrong will go wrong and suddenly soldiers march upon the land killing men woman and children and spread fires around and it seems as if the village was a manifestation of muspelheim but there was something wrong for a child no older than ten did not wallow in fear and despair as the soldiers had hoped for had hoped for but instead rage bursted forth from him as he glared daggers at the men if eyes could kill they would be dead one million times over one of the men had enough of the boy and rushed towards the boy his blade swinging towards him when suddenly a strange phenomenon happened his blade was stoped by two fingers as a cloaked figure stood in between him and the boy he was shaded umbral as if he was the manifestation of the night and with wave of his hand a shockwave bursts towards the soildiers ripping them to pieces  as blood floods from there bodies now mincemeat the figure looks towards the boy and speaks his voice deep and ominous "my name is Mardrom whats yours kid?"

Chapter End

Authors note: to anyone who doesn't know anything about norse mythology Muspelheim is the realm of the fire giants that burns so hot only they are capable of living their