Everything had started off normal enough in the Land of Sultans. The consorts were attending skill classes, soldiers were off conquering lands, and viziers were vigorously studying strategies and protocols, while the Sultans were competing against each other in various activities. It was a pretty good life. Unfortunately all that they had come to believe to be true about their fellow sultans was proven to be false during that final Christmas celebration.
Oh, forgive me, I’m not making much sense am I? Let me start over. I am Urytevain, the forgotten spirit of this land. Oh the land is still here, but it will never be the same. It had been a normal day, everyone was going about their business. You see it was the Christmas season and everyone was preparing. Everyone that is, except for one Sultan who usually went by the name Repellant Mage.
You see, she had run away from her former homeland where she was going to be forced into servitude of the chantry because of her magic abilities. Life had been bad enough living as an elf in the city, she had not wanted to find out how life would be as an elf mage in the chantry. So at age ten, before the guards had come to take her, she ran. She wasn’t sure for how long or how far, she just kept running until she was on the verge of passing out.
That was when the carriage went by. The carriage had been carrying a benevolent old Sultan who was heading back to the Land of Sultans after a successful business trip. Taking pity on the young girl he invited her into his carriage and took her to his palace where some servant got her cleaned up and in fresh new garments. As the Sultan had been unable to have a child due to an adverse medical condition, he adopted Repellant as his own, and raised her to be able to take over his reign. It didn’t matter that she was an elf, she was the child he had always wanted.
The Sultan even hired an elf mage from one of the wandering clans who went by the name of Kormah, to teach Repellant how to control her powers. The best and worst thing the Sultan could have done. Repellant learned to control her powers, and when she turned eighteen she determined she wanted Kormah as her first husband. If only the Sultan would have known about the dark magic that Kormah possessed, but he did not, and granted his daughter her wish, letting her take the elf mage as a husband despite the age difference. Shortly after the ceremony the Sultan died leaving Repellant in charge of the kingdom.
Now this is where I must warn you, if you do not wish to hear of the horrors that occurred please stop reading. You can walk away thinking Repellant was a benevolent leader as her adoptive father had been, which is not a complete lie. But I must continue on with my tale, so if you decide to keep reading… you have been warned.
Then first couple of years passed in property. The other Sultans of the land accepted Repellant’s rule, and her constituents benefitted greatly from her continued benevolence. Kormah had stayed in then background doing what consorts do; attending classes to hone skills in reading singing and painting so as to please the sultans, and being available when Repellant wished to make love. Little did Repellant know of the dark magic Kormah was weaving.
Three months before her third Christmas as Sultan, Repellant had twins. They were a little small in size, but Repellant did not care, they were healthy and perfect. She didn’t suspect a thing, until December rolled around and they twins kept putting on red pointed hats and climbing up on the mantle above the fireplace in her bedroom. Repellant didn’t understand how they could do it as they were so young but every tie she took them off the shelf, they would climb back up there. The worst part was w hen they even did it as she was sleeping. Repellant had awoken one night to see only the whites of their eyes staring at her.
After waking this way five nights in a row, Repellant became frightened and did the unthinkable. She killed the children, staging it to look like the servant had neglected them. Despite knowing she had done w hat was best, Repellant fell into a depression.
While she grieved Kormah went to phase two of his plan. He made a deal with the Sultan known as Sultana. The rumor was that Sultana enjoyed masquerading as a horse. No one could say for sure if this was true, and Sultana reveled in the Mystery that surrounded the rumors. So when Kormah came to her offering her minions who could add to the mystique, she readily agreed.
Using the dark magic he’d kept hidden for so long, Kormah raised the twins from the grave, enchanting them todo the evil they were meant to do. He also managed to weave some magic on Sultana so that she did not notice that they were the formerly deceased twins.
That is when the horror started. It was only a few days before Christmas, and decorations were going missing, replaced by horse bobbleheads, or mischievous elves that sat on the shelf when you looked at them, but ran around the house making messes when no one was looking.
Sultana was thoroughly enjoying herself and all the chaos that her minions caused. They brought back some of the best gifts. The minions enjoyed the trouble they caused. Repellant had gotten so lost in her grief she had everyone at the palace to start calling her The Dead Elf. The people themselves started to panic. How could they have a good Christmas with all the trouble being caused.
Their fears were realized on Christmas morning. The children opened their stockings to find coal instead of the knick-knacks the parents had left. Even more terrifying was the adult toys the kids found in their presents. All the terror and grief had become too much for The Dead Elf and she did the second worst thing a person could do. She killed herself.
Kormah, however, would not let her go peacefully. Using his dark magic he brought her spirit back, binding it to his life. She was nor forced to wander the land for as long as Kormah himself lived.
Christmas is no longer celebrated in the Land of Sultans. The people now lock their doors, and hide their children as Sultana and her minions still like to spread mischief. There are also stories of the Dead Elf who wanders the streets at night every year in December. The people say she is plotting her revenge, stealing any child that happens to be out past dark. Those stories are not true, but alas this is all I can write. The sun is about to rise and I must put my pen down less I perish in the suns’ rays.
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