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Moraia
(Moe-Rai-Ah)

Ah yes, Moraia: Yumikaido's real mommy. Her original clothing is a bit more fluffy, but I wanted to put her in more of a "stay at home mom" kind of attire (for Dark Elves). I ran out of paper again by the time I got to her boots. Gar...Ah well.
Moraia's story is a heartbreaking one...like all my other stories ^__^;; So for those of you who wish to read, here it is. (I suggest reading up on my Dark Elves before you read this. It's two journal entries before this one: "M.O.E. Creatures of Euphoria" wink

Within the city of Zoulheim, there lived Moraia; a beautiful young Dark Elf that was trained in the ways of a high Summoner. Unlike other the Dark Elves, Moraia had a habit of wondering around outside of the city walls during the day. She carried her sun parasol around as she sat in the grass and breathed the fresh air. Although she couldn't see very well, she still enjoyed the feeling of the wind brushing against her face and skin. It was her favorite thing in the world. She wished she could be by the wind forever and always.
As time passed, she settled down with a handsome Dark Elf, Gareth, who was skilled in the ways of a Hunter. Together they had a child. His markings were strangely all around his body rather than on only his face or arms. Moraia was overwhelmed with joy that the baby was delivered safely and held him close to her heart as her husband smiled and kissed her forehead. Moraia smiled back with tears in her eyes and prepared for her new life.
Moraia had been fond of books since she was a child and kept them all in a library within her home. The baby was finally sleeping and Moraia had time to herself to read. Rather frazzled from the hardship of parenting, she reached for the first book she could get her hands on and sat herself down. The book was given to her by her grandfather, who passed away during a fierce war long ago. She dusted it off and unhooked the clasp on the end, curious to see what was inside. It was an ancient story, one passed down from generation to generation since the beginning of time. It was written in ancient tongue of the Elves, which by now had almost become a dead language. It was not hard for Moraia to decipher the text, considering she was a Summoner which required knowledge of the language. As she read into the story, she realized that it was the book of legends; The Prophecy of Euphoria.
She read of the despicable Demon that took the lives of millions and terrorized the entire planet. She read of the Angel and its powers to help save the world. She read of the beginning, and the end of the peril that befell Euphoria. Then she stopped. Her eyes widened in horror.

“The Angel came back to the planet to warn the people about the return of the Demon. ‘The Demon will most likely try to return. He will select someone to grow in and they shall be marked along their entire bodies. Dispose of this creature before the Demon has time to sprout. If you fail to destroy the host body, destruction is in your future.’”

Her whole body shook with fear. No it couldn’t be. Not her baby…not her only son! She dropped the book and ran to the baby’s room. Her eyes were overflowing with tears as she beheld all of the markings along the baby’s body. The markings he was born with. The markings of a Demon. She fell to her knees and wept for her child. If she didn’t kill the baby…the Demon would yet again begin his reign of terror and malice across the land. She dashed out of the room to find a weapon to destroy the host body. After retrieving a knife from the kitchen, she returned and loomed over her one and only child. Moraia held the knife above her. Her hands shook. She wailed in sorrow. Her hand shot down quickly…yet fell short. Crying she dropped the knife to the side of the cradle and lifted her child to her chest.
Her child…her only child.
She knew she had not the will to destroy one as precious and innocent as her newborn baby. Clutching the child in her arms, she continued to weep. She knew she must do something…she knew her baby had to die. An hour or two went by before she slowly stood to her feet in silence. She knew what must be done.

It was morning, the time when most all Elves stayed within the deep, cool, and protective city walls. It was a day just like any other. Yet it was not a normal day for Moraia…it was a day that would come to haunt her till death. Her husband was away in the center of town selling useful material as usual. Moraia told him she would be out late that night…she wanted to do some charting of the stars. Or so she said. She trudged up the sloped path to the gates of Zoulheim. Lifting her parasol above her head, she walked with a glazed look on her face. She carried a large basket on her back; one a Dark Elf would carry laundry in. The Guards bid her farewell and a safe journey…yet she did not respond. Instead, she continued walking, deaf and blind to all around her. She traveled for miles and miles without a pause. As dusk drew near, she stopped in a remote forest far from home. The wind blew softly across her face as she placed the large basket softly on the grass. Reaching into the basket, she brought out her child and kissed his forehead. The baby would have no chance to survive in the wild. The very thought caused tears to stream from her eyes as she stroked the baby’s back gently. With another kiss, she placed the baby back into the long basket and propped her parasol over the top to keep it warm in its last hours. Wailing in sorrow, she began her journey back home, empty handed and alone, as the rain began to fall.
Days…weeks…months had passed from the day Moraia abandoned her child. Everyday she and her husband would mourn for the loss of their son. She had shown Gareth the book and the prophecy of the demon and had explained its horrifying text as soon as she got home. He understood that she did what she had to do, and grieved with her in their loss. Everyday and every night, Moraia would stare with sadness at the empty cradle.
She wouldn’t eat…she wouldn’t walk outside…she wouldn’t read…
Living was torturous. She had visions of her baby being eaten by wolves, smashed by a falling tree or frozen cold from rain and snow.

The thoughts wrenched her heart…

The pain would not stop…

The guilt and sorrow…would never leave…

On the eve of the New Year, Zoulheim held a day of silence: A day to visit the deceased and remember those of whom they loved. The cemetery was quiet as Dark elves gathered to visit their ancestors. Yet Gareth did not walk to the cemetery. Instead, he walked outside of the city gates and across the field on a nearby hill, overlooking the far off mountains. A lonely tombstone sat on the top surrounded by long reeds of grass.



Here Gareth sat until the dawn began to rise above the mountains and shined upon his face. The flowers he brought her glistened in the yellow sun…
And a gentle breeze brushed across his face.