Characters:
(Note that they are twins.)
Names: Ranal and Sevone
Physical age: 19
Species: Pure Elves
Gender: Male
Sexual orientation: Homosexual
Sexual position: Flexible
Personality: Both are sporty types but are very differing. Both thrive on bloodshed but then again in very differing styles.
Ranal: The more kinesthetic of the two, more competitive at sports that Sevone. More outspoken, but tends to tell half-truths, so there are quite a few secrets about him that no one other than Sevone knows about. He prefers bloodshed that is quick and painless, as he thinks killing is not meant to torture but rather as a means of transporting souls from one place to another. The Masochist in the relationship.
Sevone: The more academically-inclined of the two, more competitive at studies than Ranal. More introverted, but speaks only when spoken to, and tells either outright truths or lies. Tends to be very open only with Ranal. He prefers bloodshed that is torturous and can extract that most blood in the longest amount of time, as he thinks killing is meant to be as a form of punishment always preceded by torture first. The Sadist in the relationship.
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The forest was quite clear. Ranal and Sevone looked on carefully. Today was to be their day of their induction. It was quite simple, really. Kill a troll, and orc and an ogre with the same silver arrow. That day was a memorable one, not only because both of them had killed their targets in one fell swoop after less than an hour of searching, but for what happened after.
Sevone could still remember it clear as day. They had found their troll, orc and ogre together, each picking off one. Then he could feel something spark within him, like a blossom of flame. He saw it too in Ranal's eyes. But Ranal's was a bright, burning red. Sevone's was a dark, depressing black. Then he felt his arm involuntarily load his bow with a normal arrow, walking towards the dead bodies of the orcs, agres and trolls, knowing what he would find.
There. The colony. There were hundreds of each, arguing, smelly and noisy. He could only remember his bowstring tightening, but he didn't aim for their vital points, where they would die immediately. He remembered firing at their pressure points, where they would feel the most pain and spill the most blood before they died. He had watched as he pulled arrow after arrow, sending the entire colony into chaos.
Ranal was no different, but he used his magic, swooping down on the colony. His bloodlust burning as a red flame in his hands, cutting through troll and ogre flesh, decapitating them, slicing them in two, watching them burn instantly without so much of a scream. Sevone stood, picking off the orcs, slowly, enjoying the tortured screams that he heard...
"STOP IT! BOTH OF YOU!" They did not hear the village elder, not until they felt the strong muscular arms of the elven guard pull them back. Even so, they were of comparable strength. Sevone's hands had whipped around with his knife, spilling the entrails of the guard. Ranal's magic knocked the heads of two more. Sevone had laughed, splashing in the blood and guts of one from his tribe, while Ranal just stood quietly, hands burning in cold flame.
Then, it was over. Their movements were sealed by the village elder. They were pure elves as deemed by him, but it was not of pure elves to relish in bloodlust and slaughter. Their parents were disappointed that they had bred two barbarian sons and had almost banished them, if not for the same elder, who suggested a place he knew of, where such desires came to die and people learnt their place.
Julivar School for Boys.
Of course, none of the elves knew then the relationship that had bonded both twins together, a bond so strong it was almost inseparable, except by death. They did not know the things both of them did together. They did not know of the evils that had lurked which caused their bloodlust: it was lust of a different kind, but no one other than the twins themselves knew.
It was an equally clear Sunday morning when both the twins strode into their room, head still thinking about none other than that same even which brought them to this accursed school. Ranal could still see the black tongues of flame licking the walls of Sevone's heart, and Sevone could still make out the light from bright red flames that illuminated Ranal's dark pupils. It was a secret they shared as twins, but day by day the difference in colour made them realise the difference in their mannerisms.
There were two people already there: one a messy-haired boy seemingly younger than them, and one a pale, dark-haired boy around their age. What they did not know was that the reasons they were here seemed to posed a serious irony in each others' situations. Both of them sat at their bunks, Ranal squeezing Sevone's arm. The silence was to be their last memory of freedom.