Daiya's story began in a small village, in the realm of shadows where the sun never shone.On the twisted, black trees' silvery leaves, only moonlight shimmered; no flowers grew at all—except for the onyx flower, whose midnight-black petals concealed a potent poison. So strong that anyone who tasted it would bleed from every orifice, and their heart would slowly, agonizingly melt into a reddish-black pulp within their body, then stop beating altogether. Daiya's clan, the Onyx clan, was named after this flower.
Since she could remember, the clan lived in darkness. They were elves, marked by every characteristic. Their ears were slightly pointed, their hearing sharp. They saw clearly in the dark, like cats. Unlike their surface-dwelling relatives, their skin was dark, and their hair gleamed silver like the leaves. Everyone's hair—except hers. When Daiya was little, she never understood why she looked different from the others. Her black hair and light skin were unique in the community, and it always bothered her. Yet, every time she asked her father, the village chief, about it, she never got a proper answer.
"Because you are chosen by our god," the others always told her. "Because your coming was foretold."
And indeed, as she grew, she began to believe it more and more. For what else could explain it? Although she didn't feel any particular magical power within herself, and she knew nothing of the blood magic of the elves' chosen, everyone respected her as a priestess. During sacrifices, it was she who had to slit the animals' throats and collect the blood in the sacrificial vessel. She was the one who prayed to Sylun for light at every moonrise and moonset. And she was the one who gathered onyx flowers in the Valley of Death to crush them finely in a mortar, combining them with other ingredients to create what they called the Wine of Forgetting. The drink that took the elders and the sick to the Moon, on their final journey.
This went on for eighteen long years. When she came of age, her father called her to the altar stone and finally spoke to her about the prophecy. He told her that in his youth, he had a dream where the god appeared to him in the form of a stag, speaking these words:
"Mortal, listen well. Exactly thirteen years from today, a human will visit you. Her hair will be as dark as those famous flowers that bloom in the shadows, and her eyes green like the emeralds in your mines. The woman will come to you for help, but you will not be able to help her. Instead, when darkness is complete and the Moon suddenly vanishes from the sky, bring her to this altar and become one with her. If you do, she will bear you a child who will bring light to your people. But beware! For the child to fulfill its destiny, its mother must die."
The god said no more, then vanished into mist. And indeed, thirteen years later, a slender figure with black hair and green eyes appeared in the village. She came from the light and did not know that the elves she sought refuge with had other plans for her. The chief, properly named Dominique Nexus l'Onix, stopped his story here.
Daiya listened quietly and obediently to her father, though her heart pounded harder and harder in her chest. So that was why she was different from the others. That was why everyone treated her as their god's envoy. And most importantly, that was why she had to grow up alone, without a mother. She knew she had no right to question Nexus, but she simply could not accept what she had heard. The question that wanted to burst from her lips was one she wasn't sure she could suppress.
"Did you kill her?" she blurted out involuntarily.
"She had to die," came the answer. "She was just a lost person. No great loss."
That was the first time in Daiya's life she felt hatred toward her father. Nexus had always been a strict man, and an even stricter head of family. He never let his daughter play with the other children; instead, from a very young age, she had to take part in the dark elves' bloody rituals. When he traveled, Daiya wasn't even allowed out of the house—he said it was to keep her from harm. But until now, the girl had thought, even firmly believed, that all of this was for her own good. She regarded herself as a carefully guarded treasure, protected out of love by her cold, never-smiling father. In her imagination, her mother lived on as a beautiful, silver-haired elf whom her father had taken to bed out of love, and who had tragically died in childbirth.
"She had to die. No great loss."
The words echoed in her mind. Nexus spoke these things as if he felt nothing—no trace of sorrow or brokenness. The girl knew it was perfectly natural for the elves to hate humans. Because of them, they had to hide away in the shadows after the great war, and they were the source of all their suffering. Still, she couldn't look at her mother as one of those humans. Her mother, who in her imagination had braided her hair a hundred times and sung lullabies a thousand times, whose spirit watched over her when she was left alone for weeks in the cold hut.
She wanted to speak, but didn't know what to say. She jumped up from the altar where she had been conceived and silently headed toward the village.
"Daiya! Where are you going?" her father shouted after her.
The girl paused for a moment and turned back. Her face was pale, as if she had been staring straight at the Moon."I need time," she said. Then she continued on her way. The old man did not follow.
There was a boy in the village named Milo. Like most local elves, his skin was dark as graphite, and his hair fell in silver, curly locks over his forehead. If Daiya had had childhood friends, Milo would have been the best among them. Unfortunately, they only spoke for the first time much later, when they were fourteen. Until then, of course, they hadn't ignored each other—countless secret glances preceded their first meeting. Something inexplicable drew them together, these two young, curious beings who could never speak but shared a secret desire for each other's company.
Now that Daiya was of age, her father could no longer command her. In fact, even in recent years it had become clear she was slipping from his control, making more independent decisions like any young person. That was why after she turned fourteen, she met Milo more and more often. The boy was the only elf to whom she opened her heart. She shared every worry, every dark thought with him, and in return, he gave her a new world—a world without pressure or fear, where she could be whoever she wanted.
Daiya and Milo had a secret hiding place, an old cave on the border of the village and the stone circles, long forgotten by the villagers for decades. She retreated there, hoping to have time to ponder what she had heard from her father without prying eyes or sharpened ears. She didn't know whether she wanted to cry. She didn't know if she should cry—for a mother who existed only in her imagination. She knew she had to leave the next morning to prepare the next ritual, and she knew the elves would never understand why she mourned the death of a human.
She was pondering this, curling into a small ball on the cold stone, when she heard a noise behind her. The sound of footsteps filled the echoing rock cave. The girl didn't turn around—she knew that sound. There could be only one person.
"You seem sad," said the boy's deep voice, somehow still retaining a hint of childishness as it filled the cave.
"Because I am sad," the girl answered.
Milo sighed, then sat down beside her."I looked for you at the house, but you were nowhere to be found. Will you tell me what happened?"
At that moment, Daiya lifted her head from her knees and looked into the boy's eyes. His gaze was open and sincere, but the right side of his face was red, as if he had been slapped. It could have been his stepmother."Do you remember all those things I told you about my mother? What I think she was like? That she had dark skin and silver hair down to her waist, that she sang lullabies to me, and watched over me in her thoughts when I was very alone.""Yes," Milo nodded. "Somehow I imagine mine like that too."
The girl nodded shortly."It's all a lie. She was a human, who was sentenced to death before I was even conceived. In fact, she was condemned to death by a god she never believed in and never knew, thirteen years before that."
Milo furrowed his brows."What do you mean by that?"
"She was a human, Milo. Not an elf. And my father killed her."
The boy was silent for a few seconds. Not a single sound disturbed the cave; the silence was complete.
"I told you there was something wrong with your family. I couldn't say what, because I still don't fully understand. But your father is a terrifying elf, Daiya l'Onix."
"You know what? You're right. I'm more and more afraid of him. And I'm less and less sure that he loves me."
Indeed, as the years passed, Daiya believed less and less in paternal love. It was undoubtedly important to Nexus. But not because she was his daughter, that much had become clear—rather because she was Sylun's priestess.
"Why don't you leave it all behind?" Milo asked. Again and again he asked the question."You're not like us. You could go up to the surface, and no one would despise you for your dark skin. You could be free."
The girl pondered for a moment, but only for a moment."You know I've never agreed with you on that. Maybe I was wrong before, and my father doesn't love me for myself, but I was prophesied for a reason. Milo, you know I have a mission here. I'm not here just for myself, but for you and the others who live in this village. I don't know how yet, but someday I will be useful to them. And when that happens, everyone will love me, and I will never be alone again. What would I do alone on the surface?"
The boy just shook his head."Look, Daiya, everyone here treats you like a tool. Your father is no different. Maybe they respect you, but with the same look they give a sacrificial lamb. If the god said so, they'd let you bleed out on the first stone. And you don't know what Sylun is planning for you. I say it would be better if you walked your own path."
"You know I can't."
"You just don't have the resolve."
"Because I don't want to be alone. My father, even if not for me, loves me somewhere. And you love me too."
A roguish half-smile tugged at Milo's lips."Since I confessed to you, you haven't thought about anything else, have you?"
"Not that you think much about anything else either. You think about me all day. Admit it, you perverted elf-boy," Daiya said, and despite everything, she was already smiling.
"I won't deny that sometimes a nobler desire takes hold of me," Milo replied with a grin.
"Oh, really?" said the girl as she stepped closer. She wrapped her arms around Milo's neck and leaned right up to his ear. Then, whispering, she said:"Help me forget everything. Just for one night."
And indeed, that night they remembered no one and nothing, but lost themselves in each other like a person lost on a deserted island. The girl held the young elf warmly, her legs tangled around his waist, and their eyes seemed to spark. The pointed ears twitched with excitement.
"I would do anything for you, Daiya l'Onix," said the boy. The girl wasn't ready to make such declarations, because by now she knew to be cautious with unconditional love.
"Big words, Milo, big words," she replied, before biting his lips, causing him to softly moan in pain. After that, they said no more. Only two warm bodies spoke in the night.
About three weeks passed, and nothing changed. At least, not outwardly. Inside, Daiya felt she no longer had any motivation to function. Like a torn doll, like a broken toy. She just did what was expected of her and tried not to blame her father for what was obviously not his fault. She just waited for this godless state to pass.
Because why would Nexus understand that a human could also be a valuable mother? Because how would he understand that Daiya had begun to question her own worth as a half-elf? That fear filled her—that all the love she received from the village people was not for her, but just for a prophecy, while she herself was only a dirty half-elf, infected by human blood. Under other circumstances, it would have been blasphemy that she was even born. Only Milo kept her spirit alive during this time full of doubt. But Milo had his own problems. Moreover, he wanted to take drastic steps.
Milo's mother died early in an epidemic. The fact that the boy remembered and knew her love perhaps only made things harder. Then, after his father remarried, the disease took him as well, and Milo stayed with his stepmother, who, having no children of her own, was undoubtedly just a burden to him. At first, they lived quietly side by side, but then the abuse started—sometimes verbal, sometimes physical. Yet for elves, family was sacred, and neither the stepmother nor Milo had any escape from it. Daiya knew that when the boy wished to leave everything behind, somewhere in him she saw herself.
Because Daiya l'Onix was, besides being the purest love for Milo, also a possibility. A being who could do what he never dared. A being who could leave everything behind and start a new life, even without him. And Daiya was unwilling to leave behind either her father's rather malleable love or Milo's pure and sincere devotion. Until that day.
The girl, a fragile creature tossed about in doubts, tried despite everything to fulfill all her duties to the best of her abilities. It was no different during the full moon ritual. But something, something beyond her control, changed. Whereas in her previous life no one found it strange that she did not understand blood magic, that she had no power whatsoever, this time everything turned out differently.
Her coming of age meant to the other elves that she was ready for the task, and they began to grow impatient. When would the god grant his blessing if not now? How much longer did they have to wait? Daiya herself did not know, but in recent weeks the questions had become more frequent. And when she stood before the full moon with the sacrificial bowl, her father asked her:
"Daughter, are you ready to be received into Sylun's favor?"
And Daiya said:"I am ready, father."
At that moment, Nexus raised his knife and stabbed it into Daiya's abdomen. The girl, who did not expect this turn of events, groaned. The elder gently took the bowl from her hands and held it under the bleeding wound. The elves cheered.
"Here is this blood!" Nexus shouted. "Sylun, I dedicate to you the blood of your priestess! Reveal what plans you have for us! Guide her onto the right path, for the sake of our people!"
But Sylun said nothing. Daiya's blood quietly dripped into the bowl, while the girl's gaze grew more confused and hazy. She still saw, silently, Milo raising his worried eyes to her and moving in her direction. With her last strength, she signaled him to stay where he was. Milo must not get involved in all this. Milo was a sacred thing, who had to remain outside all suffering and discomfort. She saw on the boy's face that he mentally resisted, but he stopped nonetheless. Then Daiya collapsed onto the ground.
They saw each other again a week later. Daiya could not leave the house in the meantime, as her father claimed she needed rest. Her father, who stabbed her in the belly and smiled while doing it.
The stress caused by Milo's absence exploded with all its force as outrage the next time they met in the cave.
"I can't believe he did this to you!! His own child! I know you don't agree, but you cannot stay here for one more moment! Please!"
Daiya no longer knew what she wanted herself. The last few weeks had questioned everything she ever believed on multiple levels. She raised her gaze to Milo's face. The boy wore a loose shirt, which revealed the ugly purple bruises decorating his collarbone.
"They did things to you too," she remarked darkly, "things you didn't agree to."
"It's not about me right now!" the boy shouted angrily. "You know I can handle it. But you… you are too important. Too important to me. Daiya l'Onix, are you aware they looked at you like an animal? They cheered when you lay bleeding on the stone? And I needed every ounce of willpower not to fight your father and the whole village for you, right then and there."
"But Milo, this is about you too," the girl sighed. "You expect me to leave, don't you? Okay, maybe you're right. I admit, I'm afraid. But what will happen to you then? Without you, I would never do it. Just look at yourself. You're full of injuries and bruises. A year ago you were just arguing. I'm not stupid, tell me what happened."
"I…"
It was as if Milo's words were choked off. Daiya looked at him encouragingly until the boy finally opened his mouth and continued. "I don't want to be here. But I wouldn't know where to go. At least your mother was human. Daiya! You have somewhere to escape from these psychopaths! Do it, at least for me."
The girl just shook her head. Then she raised her arms and cupped Milo's face with both hands. "You fool. I would never leave you alone like this."
They both fell silent. Minutes passed, and it was as if gears were clicking inside Milo's head.
"I'm scared," he finally said. "But what if… what if we both leave this hell behind? For you, I could do it, l'Onix. For you, I would risk the unknown."
Daiya felt as if she might melt at those words, but she had to hold herself together. "And where would we go? What would we do far from here?" she asked.
"I'd go with you into the light. I swear," Milo said quietly. "I don't want you to suffer any longer. Who knows, maybe it wouldn't be so bad up there. We just have to be as far from here as possible. To hell with the prophecy, to hell with the whole village. I only need you."
Daiya, who had been filled with doubts that gnawed at her from within, finally exhaled. The boy was right. Even though she felt some attachment to her father, she wanted to get away from him for a while. After all, she could come back anytime. Even if she wasn't completely convinced, she thought it would do her good to be away from their village for a time. Then Milo would also see how lost they were alone, and eventually, they would return. And her father—her father would realize how much he missed his daughter. And when they came back, he would finally express his love for her.
"I need only you, too," Daiya said at last. "Just give me a few days. Then we'll be each other's, and only ours."
And three days passed.
Under the cover of total darkness, when even the moon did not shine, the two elves left the settlement. Their boots were covered in mud after the day's rain, making it difficult to traverse the swampy land. The large trees, with their silver leaves, showed the way, and Milo's silver hair reflected the leaves' glow. Daiya doubted a little whether she was doing the right thing, but she wanted to get Milo out of the village for a while, and she needed time too. After all, they could return anytime. They loved each other, even if no one else loved them. And naively, with all the passion of her eighteen years, she thought everything would be fine as long as they stayed together.
That beautiful dream lasted only until moonrise.
At moonrise, their pursuers caught up with them. A dozen elves, all of whom they had seen before and who had no reason to hate them.
"Stop!" they shouted threateningly. But they did not stop. They shouted to each other from opposite ends of a larger marsh; the pursuers had no way to catch up. Milo signaled Daiya to follow him. If they ran, they would surely disappear before the pursuers could circumvent the soggy, sinking area. The girl looked into the boy's eyes, and they smiled like two conspirators. Then they started to run.
Everything happened very quickly. They heard the whizz of an arrow, and then Daiya suddenly realized she was running alone. She stopped and looked back fearfully. Milo was lying on the ground on his stomach, an arrow in his back.
"Keep going, Daiya," he groaned, still alive. But the growing pool of blood beneath him worried her. She was no stranger to gunshot wounds. She hoped she was wrong about where the arrow had struck him. Because if she was right, he wouldn't survive.
The girl ran back to Milo, suddenly caring about nothing else — no escape, no one, no thing — except saving this elf, the most important one of all, from a sudden and premature death.
"Can you hear me? Milo, can you hear me?" she shook the barely twitching body and hoped their attackers would catch up soon, as they might have a first aid kit or something that could help. But they didn't arrive, and the blood kept flowing and flowing until Milo's dark face turned an unhealthy shade paler, and he no longer spoke or moved. The hand that Daiya held desperately slowly and surely lost all its warmth.
The girl sat motionless there, caring about nothing in the world anymore.
"It can't be," she whispered to herself. Then she remembered when Milo confessed his love to her. And the last time in the cave when he didn't answer her because he didn't trust such fleeting feelings as love. She felt guilt and knew she had to do something. Milo couldn't just die like this, probably a mistake, but she had to do something anyway. She didn't notice the tears streaming down her face.
She probably sat by the edge of the swamp for about thirty minutes before the pursuers caught up with her. Daiya didn't know why they were following her, or why they resorted to using weapons, but all her doubts vanished at their first words."Not one step further, priestess! You cannot leave the village!" — shouted the leader of the pursuers.
Daiya suddenly laughed. It was the most sincere and cynical laugh that had ever left her mouth. How could she have thought they kept her locked up out of love? Until now, she had stayed out of love, and she thought that feeling was mutual… but what a huge mistake that was. She still tightly gripped Milo's freshly cold hand in hers.
"Who said to shoot at us?" she asked, her gaze like that of a lioness.
"The elder said to get you back at any cost, even if we have to hurt the boy," answered the elf at the front. "Are you ready to surrender?"
Daiya shrugged. "What about him?" — she nodded toward Milo.
"Is he dead?" the leader asked back.
The girl couldn't say anything; suddenly nausea overwhelmed her. "That can't be," because why would he have died? He was a little cold and all, but not stiff, and he looked just like someone asleep. "He couldn't have died. Then there'd be no reason for me to go back," she concluded to herself in the most objective tone possible. Then she said: "Oh." And she felt something click inside her. Because Milo was too cold. And too still.
"I don't want to go back with you," the girl added, and as the hunters ignored her and came closer, an irrationally intense anger filled her.
But she couldn't do anything. There was nothing she could do. In the last moments before they grabbed her, only one thing came to her mind. She began praying to Sylun, with every drop of honesty and love she had. And for the first time in her life, the god answered her.
"What do you want, child?" asked the god. And Daiya answered:"Give me strength to protect him."
And her palm glowed, and a shining orb of light appeared from it, spinning as if around itself. The phenomenon lit up the silver-black trees and the stunned faces of the hunters as well.
"You won't take a single step closer," Daiya threatened them. And when they didn't heed the warning, she unleashed the light. The upper body of one follower was torn off completely where the orb hit, some fluid flowing from the spine, and blood spraying from several places. The second elf screamed his death struggle on the ground. Seeing this, the third turned around and, pride notwithstanding, quickly fled toward the village. His companions followed.
The girl needed a few moments to process what happened, then collapsed to the ground. She didn't care about the dead, except for one certain body. Could she do nothing? Something had to be done. Sylun had finally heard her. She tried to speak to the god in her mind, but there was no reply.
She remembered what her father always said about the great trees — the huge black giants that reached the sky and connected them to the gods. She set off to find one of those enormous trees, knowing it wasn't far. Somehow she felt its power.
Desperately, she dragged Milo's cooling body even though she knew the boy was dead. They should never have run. They should never have left the village. It took her a good half hour to drag the corpse with her thin arms to where she felt the power.
There stood a huge, midnight-black tree, its leaves more radiant silver than she had ever seen in her life. Waves of magic washed over her that she had never felt before. She began praying again.
"Give him back. I will do anything, anything at all, but you must give him back. Please…"
And the tree trunk seemed to come to life, and the bark stretched out like a pair of embracing arms that pulled the dead elf toward them. But not a single sound came from it. Daiya knew the god was watching.
Although the valley was far behind and nothing should have been growing here, the girl saw a few black flowers at the base of a tree… and suddenly a terrible idea struck her. She grabbed handfuls of undergrowth and tore out a handful of onyx flowers. Her hands didn't tremble as she lifted them to her mouth.
"Sylun, if you don't help me, then I don't care about any prophecy," she said, swallowing the poisonous plant. For a few minutes, nothing happened. The girl prayed fiercely as she felt her internal organs breaking down, then she screamed until no sound came from her throat anymore. Then, as her heart began to crumble, she suddenly heard someone speaking to her, and the pain stopped.
"Don't do it," said the voice. "I'm willing to make a bargain with you. I will save you if you swear something to me."
"Anything," Daiya gasped. "If you save him too."
After that, she thought she heard quiet laughter.
"I will give him back to you, Daiya l'Onix. I will give you his body. And if you fulfill what I have destined for you, I will return his soul as well. Do you agree? Or you will both be lost in eternal darkness and can never disappear into the Moon. It's up to you."
There was nothing to think about. Maybe it was a terribly selfish thought, but Daiya suddenly realized how much she needed Milo. How utterly lost she was without him.
"I already told you, I swear anything," she forced the words out bitterly, but without a doubt. And then the bark-covered body moved. Still cold, but it moved. And the boy stood up. He didn't say a word, but he stood and looked at Daiya. And the girl knew she was lost.
"Sylun, I am forever yours," she whispered. Milo looked into her eyes, soulless, but stepping closer. And as a terrible premonition filled the girl, tears streaming from her eyes, the boy's body kissed her.
And she kissed back with all her love and horror. "I will get your soul back," she whispered to him. The bargain was already made. And she would never, ever return to the village. Because for the first time in her life, she knew she had an important mission. And she would die before leaving it unfinished.