The whistling of the wind in her ears was abruptly interrupted by a shock of unheard-of violence. Eleanor slammed into the surface of an underground river nestled deep in the crevasses of Tenebris. She felt her bones crack under the impact, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the void that took hold of her mind. As she floated, not even trying to get up, her consciousness began to fade, giving way to fragments of memories she thought she had buried.
Her thoughts drifted back to the time of the Thousand-Year War. At that time, she was a young dark elf, slender with an already elegant stature, much more cheerful, whose hair still captured the glow of Babylon's crystals. Her master was known as Konstantin, though the world would eventually call him Diavolo.
