Divinity: 182
-Soul Lifespan: 10 years-
Poking the corpse on Atlas's globe, a small status symbol for Eleos's greyed soul hovered above it. Eleos's soul, a faded grey mist of himself, collapsed to his knees, sobbing beside his corpse and family.
"Why did it have to end like this," Eleos sobbed in despair.
His parents, Aello and Flora, cradled his lifeless body before Aello abruptly stood up. His gaze lingered on his son's corpse, his expression darkening as rage boiled inside him.
This rage grew and grew until his face held nothing but fury. Without a word, he turned and charged into battle against the goblins with unmatched ferocity.
Heads were severed, limbs hacked off, and the organs the goblins wore as hats- he tore them from their heads and shoved them down their throats. The ones he caught, he pinned down, forcing them to suffocate while they desperately clawed at Aello's body and their own, trying in vain to remove the choking mass and kill Aellos at the same time.
It was a sight no elf, young or old, had ever witnessed from their own kin. Yet, it was effective. Even the frenzied goblins- creatures resistant to fear- hesitated momentarily in the face of his bloodlust.
Flora, however, remained frozen, her face buried in her son's corpse, sobbing uncontrollably. She didn't move, not even as vines and torrents of water lashed out around her, violently tearing apart any goblins that came too close.
One unfortunate goblin found itself trapped beneath a weave of vines. When they tightened, its body was crushed into a bloody pulp against the forest floor.
But Flora never moved, trapped in her grief, as her tears stained her son's corpse and mixed with the bloodied soil beneath her.
Eleos's soul watched, confused and in shock. Though death was a strange experience, he had never seen his parents like this. His shimmering form flickered with guilt and despair.
Desperately, he tried to shake them. His wispy hands passed through their bodies as he cried, "Stop it! I get that you're angry and sad but you have to stop! This isn't like you! I've never seen you like this!"
"He's very... sentimental? Naïve?" Atlas mused, watching the scene unfold. "It's not mercy. I'd have thought he'd be at least a little happy seeing his parents avenging his death."
Eleos's reaction confused Atlas. The young elf had just lost his life at what was a critical turning point for him. His first major achievement. And yet, instead of embracing their vengeance, he rejected it.
Zooming out, Atlas spotted the Green Primordial Dragon and the Vampiress still observing from afar, neither speaking nor showing any compassion for the elves.
"Youthful emotions versus age and experience, I suppose?"
Even for himself, Atlas felt little emotion. One part of him acknowledged this was real, yet another saw it as though watching a war through a video or movie- a level of detachment he assumed these ancient beings shared.
They did nothing throughout the entire battle. Only observed as the elves burned with grief and the parents raged in their sorrow.
"No... not age," Atlas murmured, studying the contrast between the grieving parents and the distant, unfeeling ancient beings. "Indifference- because there isn't a connection."
A sudden change, however, caught Atlas's eye. The once pure wisps of magical energy that flowed from Aello- whether crystal white or blue from the elven magic- started to become tainted with streaks of crimson.
Frowning, Atlas muttered. "I can't let the most powerful pure elves become subject to the same malignant energies as the dark elves. I still don't know how controllable it is when comparing Myra and the Smiling Tree of Wishes."
His gaze drifted to Eleos who had run out, sensing this disturbing shift in his father's magic, and was trying desperately to stop him. Cries, protests, throwing himself through his father- but his protests did nothing.
"If there is a God, please stop my father! This is wrong, something's corrupting his magic!" Eleos finally stopped and cried toward the soil, rather than toward the sky.
'Ah...They believe I'm in the ground instead of the sky.' Atlas thought briefly before glancing at Wisp, who seemingly was absorbed in the theatrics. Its gaze shifted to Atlas, a clear question resonating on its face 'So what will you do?'
"Hm..."
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-CDIM Replay-
Eleos Birth Year: 470
Ever since Eleos was young, he bore more compassion than most. When the elves caught wildlife, he shed tears at the butchery required for food, even though the elves practiced restraint in such actions. He loved nature and all its beauty, much like his mother, and was often found at her side, learning herbology. But upon witnessing their occasional killings for meat, despite his love for the land, he gradually drifted toward his father, Aello's region.
There was no resentment or rift between Aello and Flora in Eleos's eyes. Eating fish bothered him less than eating land creatures, so he simply made his home near the water to avoid such sights. When he was on land, he still tended to the nature he loved, growing massive trees alongside Flora that broke through the canopy.
Flora knew he had more power on land than on water, but she couldn't change his feelings about animals. While the elves didn't enjoy taking lives beyond what was necessary for sustenance, they still enjoyed the taste of meat, and after five centuries, Flora wasn't about to give it up—nor would any other elf who respected the land but still loved its bounty.
As for his kindness? When other elves questioned his abilities on the lake, or when the few children his age mocked him for his gentle nature, he brushed it off with ease, always responding with warmth and small offerings.
"Scared of a little blood?" one elven child mocked. "How are YOU the son of Aello and Flora?"
Grinning and placing a handful of berries into the child's hand, Eleos replied cheerfully, "Nope! I just don't like blood! Flora doesn't either! She's really kind!"
His easy going nature and repeated acts of kindness won him favor among many elves. Even the teasing of other children faded over time. And as far as Eleos knew, it was true- he had never seen his mother or father angry, never witnessed them fight or show violence. They had always shielded him from such things, even when the goblins first appeared.
So when the goblins came, and he experienced both his first great success and his death- seeing his parents consumed by their grief and rage was heartbreaking.