they heard the sound of fighting and saw their friends, the immortals that had become part of their community, under attack trying to fight off a large group of outsiders.
The addition of the humans to the fray tripled the participants in the battle. With the increased numbers, it became harder for each side to remain in control. What had been an amazing show of battle skills, quickly turned into an all out blood bath. One by one, members of each side fell when the wounds they received went from superficial to fatal.
Arratta continued fighting, keeping his back to the forest and never letting the battle surround him. This strategy alone, he felt, kept him alive and kept the chaos from enveloping him. What saved his life was also a stinging point of regret that haunted him through his long existence. His position kept him from fighting at his father’s side. He watched from across the growing pile of bodies, as his father was one of the last leanthans killed and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
He was the only survivor of that battle. He realized it was over only after he skewered his final opponent, an ancient angel, with his father’s sword. He used his mind to pry the metal from Latta’s dead hands and impale the angel from behind. After collecting the daggers of each of his fallen comrades, Arratta returned home with news that the war had changed.
The creators had given psychic powers to one of the angels in the village, the very angel that Arratta had defeated at the end of the battle. Because of that gift, the immortals were prepared for the battle. Ready to fight.
Even though he had been able to defeat the psychic angel, Arratta knew that the creators would bestow that gift on others after seeing how helpful it proved to their side. To this day, psychic ability was the greatest gift that the creators would ever provide to an immortal and they'd only do so after the immortal had proven themselves worthy in a series of battles.
As his father’s only surviving son, Arratta became general of the leanthan army that day. Or what little remained of the army, after more than a year of constant battles. Arratta continued fighting in his father’s name. He joined with other squadrons to keep up their ranks but lost more comrades each time they went to battle. Soon he realized that there was nothing to be gained by this bloody war. Revenge wasn’t a good enough motivation for as many deaths as he’d seen.
With that epiphany, he vowed only to take his armies to war for a good cause in the future. Only if their livelihood was being threatened or if they were being attacked by another species. Now Arratta was left to reconcile this new war with that vow that he took so many years before.
Leus, Arratta’s great grandson, had the disproportionally large eyes of the younger generations of leanthans. But as a direct descendent of Arratta, he was still able to pass as human since his demonic genes remained strong. His unique look never got in the way of his interactions with humanity. With the wide range of human features, small differences were often considered attractive, and with the strong build and chiseled features of his family, Leus never lacked female attention, by the leanthan or human species.
Unlike Leus, many leanthans were easy to spot thanks to their mutation. Varying significantly in appearance from humans, most of the younger leanthans were forced to stay out of contact with the humans. So out of their self-preservation instincts, the leanthans had, over time, created all of the comforts of human society, just on a smaller scale for themselves.
The more obvious leanthans never left the colonies, while those who could pass for human were selected to mingle with human society, both socially, to keep up with their customs, and functionally, to obtain supplies that the leanthans didn’t have the ability or the financial means of creating themselves.
When Leus was young, he didn’t understand