Okay, backstory edited so it makes sense, and first 30 or so pages read. Here's a brief summary.
Elidnis and Ferox became angered with each other. Elidnis used light, Ferox used water. To kill each other, they each attacked the others duo. Elidnis attacked water, and Ferox attacked light. Ferox attacked miracle, hence, a certain angel's story was set in motion. Elidnis, meanwhile, attacked Ulitharids, creating a strangely parallel plot. And when miracle and the ulitarids wanted revenge, guess who the forest gods blamed? The elves.
That one elf character (Zanthos) was exiled just BEFORE all of this. The time lines are far from synching up, but I don't think the discrepancy is big enough for it to cause a paradox.
And now, without further ado, the travels of Yüruk and Darloff.
Having no idea where to go, Yüruk ventured into the old elven treecamps. Once great battlements full of inventive scientists and proud warriors, now it was a wasteland. Angel feathers and blood littered the ground, and evidence of the hideous anti-elf practice called "de-earing" horrified the young boy. Darloff played a D minor chord, and switched to haunting arpeggio complemented with the B sixth. The minor tune fluctuated key with every step, until at last Yüruk found the records room, and his pet fell silent.
Inside there were but bones.
Glancing along the shelves, he found the record keeping for every elf ever born. Flipping to the back, he started with the youngest elves and moved backwards.
Baby, born but days before Yüruk. Dead.
Toddler, first words, three weeks before the attacks. Dead
Horrified, Yüruk flipped to the start.
Elder, wisest of inventors, accredited with assisting in the invention of purify. Dead.
Darloff pinged in excitement; he ripped out an entry.
There was but one living entry remaining. A scribe who's corpse Yüruk had stepped over when entered. Darloff's hopes fell again.
Instead, Yüruk decided to look at the catalogue of the fallen. Flipping to the back, as always he saw a name. Zanthos... he pondered. He's as close to my age as exists at this point. I'll follow him.
Departing from his home in the woods, Yüruk traveled south towards the aetherian plane, knowing that all fallen elves traveled to the entropic shore.
Traveling quickly, he arrived at an aetherian town near the north of the plains. As night fell, Yüruk quickly unraveled his sleeping bag, and lay on his back to look at the stars. His bag was made out of twigs from the great tree, and as such, possessed the same properties as an emphatic bond. Holding Darloff in his hands, and interlocking his fingers, he pressed the light beast against his chest, and smiled. It played a sweet lullaby. Staring at the stars, he began to enjoy the healing effects of the bag, and closed his eyes......
"Boy!" cried a strange soldier.
Startled awake, Yüruk looked at his attacker.
"Boy!" repeated the immortal, "what are you doing outside?!"
"Well, I was sleeping," said the startled boy, "I mean no harm."
"Come in come in" said Illustrus, beaconing him inside. "What are you, an elf, doing so close to the woods? Do you mean to be killed?"
"I come from there" replied Yüruk, helping himself to a bread roll. He completely ignored Ilutstrus' strange facial expression. "I am looking for one called Zanthos."
"Then you are in luck!" replied the immortal, "he and some friends of mine passed through here recently, traveling southward toward the lands of darkness. I saw them sparring one day."
Darloff pinged a broken major chord, traveling up and down the octaves until eventually ending on a high root.
"We'll set out" said Yüruk, wiping his face and pocketing some rolls, "in the morning. Thank you for your hospitality!" the boy finished, not realizing no food had been offered to him.
Late that night, in the middle of the night, Yüruk awoke not to hospitality. Instead it was a dissonant chord of warning from his light bearing friend.
Illustrus thrashed upon Yüruk with an assassins blade.
On his feet, Yüruk rolled around the immortal and with the nimbleness of youth, slipped away from the village.
"CHILD OF DARK PROPHECY!" called the immortal "WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE TO BE. YOU ARE NOT WELCOME NEAR THE FORESTS ANY LONGER."
And so, during the cold witching hours of the night, Yüruk ventured on, his only friend a ball of light, his only guide the stars.
