Ochyron Dialogue
My clan was last to enter the Sunset Wars. We waited until there was no other choice. Warfare goes against our every instinct. Our entire way of life is built on a foundation of peace. Even petty squabbles are taboo among my people. But the war was not going well for my kind, and every elf who could carry a weapon was called on.
Our city was far away from any fighting, so the march to battle lasted weeks. Along the way I overheard many worries from the others. Most of them were concerned about the guilt that would come from taking a life. No one seemed afraid of losing their own life. Except maybe me, and I started to feel very alone in that worry. I felt like the only coward in a company of warriors.
When they handed out the weapons I chose the bow and arrow, because I wanted as much distance as possible between me and the enemy. My superiors were glad to let me join the archers. I think they wanted me out of the way. As it happens, I have decent aim. Getting my hand to stop shaking was my biggest challenge.
And to make matters worse, I couldn’t protect myself with magic. Everyone else could say spells over their quivers and their arrows would always find their mark. Or they could raise invisible shields to keep them safe from enemy fire. I could try all that for myself. I know all the right words and procedures, but I would surely fail. My magic has always been weak. I spent all my life up to that point convincing myself that it didn’t matter. But it mattered then. It mattered more than ever.