Irithel

Irithel is the swift and nimble guardian of the Moonlit Forest. With her special crossbow in hand, no human who dared threaten the forest has ever escaped her aim. But she does not walk this path alone. Always by her side is her family and her closest companion, Leo. And whenever she took up her crossbow, she could feel her mother, the Primal Matriarch, there as well. Hunters eventually discovered the creatures' fatal weakness. Elusive as they were, the smilodons would always be drawn out by the cries of an infant because it sounded so much like the cries of their own cubs. The hunters were quick to exploit that weakness. They kidnapped the infants of other races to use as bait and laid ambushes for the unsuspecting smilodons. Irithel had once been one of those infants. Born beneath an ominous red moon, the abandoned elf entered the world with strange crimson markings across her skin and was feared from her very first breath. Those around saw her existence as an ill omen and cast her aside without hesitation. Greed and malice had nearly swallowed her whole. Yet in the end, she clawed out a sliver of survival. The smilodon that followed her cries happened to be the Primal Matriarch who had recently lost her cub. That cub had fallen to hunters not long before. The sight of such a crude trap sent the matriarch baring her fangs and into a frenzy. But the scent of milk on the matriarch drew the starving infant to the smilodon. Little Irithel crawled unsteadily toward her. At that moment, the smilodon's rage faltered. Looking down at the tiny elf, a mother's instinct began to take over. The hunters, however, had already lost patience. They closed in from all sides, determined to make the smilodon's bones theirs. They understood the power of a smilodon, but knew nothing of a mother's ferocity. Keeping little Irithel at her side, the matriarch lunged and roared at every hunter who dared approach. The hunters fell into complete disarray from her attacks, and when failure looked imminent, they fled the forest in panic. Irithel gained a mother that day. She was not a graceful elf. The matriarch gave her all that any mother could: milk to nourish her, shelter beneath the wild canopy, the skills to hunt and survive... and a dearest companion, her only surviving cub. Irithel returned that love in kind. As the matriarch had hoped, Irithel grew up beside the cub and learned to drive intruders from the forest. Bow in hand and barely able to stay upright, she rode on the cub's back and sent arrows into every corner of the forest. With time, Irithel came to understand the truth of her own origins. Having endured such cruelty herself, she could not quiet her distrust of outsiders, especially humans. That began to change only after she met Nana, a kind-hearted Leonin girl. Irithel did not understand her words, but she could feel the warmth in Nana's smile. Although Irithel could respond only with growls, the little Leonin happily took both her hands in her own. Only warmth could melt ice that deep, and little by little, Nana's persistence began to change her. Proudly calling herself Irithel's "little teacher," she set out to teach her the language of humans. Unable to refuse such kindness, Irithel followed Nana's patient guidance and, for the first time, managed to awkwardly piece together her first word: "F-rien-d." Together, they named Irithel's companion Leo, and they wandered the forest paths in laughter and song. But that simple happiness ended all too soon with Nana's departure. Irithel had to learn and grow on her own. Before Irithel realized it, her mother had grown old. More and more, the matriarch watched her daughter with quiet expectation in her eyes. When her fangs could no longer protect what she loved, she led Irithel to one final place. They arrived in the deepest part of the forest, where countless white bones lay in silence. It was the graveyard of the smilodons, the place those hunters had long sought. Before Irithel understood what was happening, her mother gently lay down upon the bed of bones. Like any mother, she wished to leave behind a gift for her child when Irithel came of age. But the matriarch had no treasures to pass down. The only gift she could leave her child was... her own bones. Under Irithel's gaze, the matriarch slowly closed her eyes. The proud head that had never bowed in life came to rest upon her daughter's lap, and in that final stillness, Irithel understood the secret of the smilodons: when they died, their spirit bones released their immense magic back into the forest, nourishing the land and continuing the never-ending cycle of life. The matriarch's breathing gradually weakened, and Irithel's vision blurred with tears. When those tears spilled out at last, a glimmer flashed across her mother's weathered, translucent bones—as though urging her not to stop here. So, Irithel sought out the Tree of Life in the Moonlit Forest. With the gentle blessing from Estes and Miya, she forged her weapon from one of its resilient silver branches and her mother's bones, shaping them into the crossbow she now carried. This was the proof that her mother would be with them always. From that day onward, every hunter who dared set foot in the forest would learn to fear the roar of Leo and the fierce elf on his back with the magic crossbow. Together, they would drive every last intruder out of the forest. Irithel watched the hunters flee in panic as she gently put her hand on her crossbow. Leo leaned against her, the feeling warm and familiar. Beneath her fingers, her crossbow gave the same warmth—as though the years between had never passed, and her mother was still there beside them.