The first of the Eisali Eisaes is said to be an elf by the name of Séregon Elrohir.
In the time before the rise of man, Séregon was a knight of the order of White Leaves. It was his duty and the duty of his companions to protect the City of Sky Cliff from the barbarous races of monsters that plague the land. However, sword and magic tended to do badly alongside one another, so these defenders would have to excel at only one. Thus the mêlée members of the White Leaves would have to discard the honor of using high magic.
Séregon felt that this was unacceptable, not because of the shame it would bring, not because he would lose the art that made the Elves the protectors of the world, instead it was because of his love for another. Séregon was in love with a beautiful Elven noble by the name of Itarillë Telemmaitë and if Séregon gave up high magic, then he would have no chance of courting her.
Sadly for Séregon, he was never very good at magic and he knew that he would never qualify to be trained as a White Leaf Mage. The only traditional choice that Séregon had before him was to become a White Leaf Knight or leave the White Leaves forever. Unhappy with his options and fueled by love, Séregon devoted all of his time trying to find a new way to combine the art of combat with what little he knew of magic.
Many years went by and for a long time Séregon was unsuccessful in his attempts at battle magic. Trying to wear armor whilst using the high art of magic was difficult and caused him to fail casting his spells altogether. Furthermore, going into a mêlée combat without armor was foolish at best. Discarding the idea of casting spells in armor, Séregon turned his focus to combine the art of swordsmanship and the high art. Using spells while holding the blade was not difficult; however, when he tried to use both at the same time the result was either a failure or a near accident.
Séregon almost gave into depression when he saw some novice mages practicing in the courtyard. The novice’s were throwing simple spells at small wooden targets, testing their aim and might like they did every day. Séregon was struck by a moment of genius when a bolt of red fire was cast at one of the targets. The line of fire was so smooth and straight that even Séregon was impressed, it was so straight and sure it hardly looked like magic at all. It looked more like, an arrow.
Suddenly, Séregon dropped everything and ran off to his study. He discarded his armors and swords and begun ordering a multitude of bows and arrows. More years went by and Séregon continued to test his new ideas until he had found a way to combine his battle knowledge with the high arts of the Elves. Séregon infused his bow and his arrows with the ancient Elven magic forming a new style of battle and defenses.
Initially, when Séregon began demonstrating his new art many did not approve or understand, some even openly mocked him. It wasn’t until Séregon caught the eye of the legendary battle tactician, Fingolfin Anwarünya, that his art was recognized for its true potential. Fingolfin mocked the Elder’s Council of Sky Cliff as he tried to convince them to formalize the new found art.
“Don’t you little infants understand? This Elf has found a way to allow all of our armies to use high magic. A new form of power and defense has come and it is our duty to protect it, or it will only be used against us later.”
Séregon was delighted with a formal approval from the Edler’s Council of Sky Cliff. He eventually began teaching others how they could place magic within their arrows and bows. Training went well and the art seemed very powerful in theory; however, even with the approval of Fingolfin many were unsure of Séregon’s new combat style. The Elves needed real proof, everyone knew there would be a time to put this art to the test but what everyone did not know, was how soon it would come.
As the balance of light and dark exchanges, there always comes a re-occurring time of great unrest. One thousand horrors descended from the mountains. No one knew how they had gained so much power but the Horrors burned and destroyed all in there path. The Elves of Sky Cliff watched the Horror Army progress and gain even more power with each town they destroyed. Eventually it was very clear that the Horror Army would attack Sky Cliff. The White Leaves have magic allowing them to see nearly every part of the world from the top of Sky Cliff, there Séregon stood fearless, watching the Horror army approach. Séregon was burning with the anger of thousand suns and perhaps for the first time in his life, he knew exactly what he had to do.
A very large crowd of elves had gathered around the top of Sky Cliff to hear the news. Everyone wanted to know what the magical visions of Sky Cliff had shown the White Leaves concerning the army of Horrors headed their way. Séregon moved effortlessly through the crowd until he was face to face with Itarillë. By her surprise, in a soft and mighty voice he said to her:
“I love you, you who are more beautiful then all of the stars in the night sky, and I swear by my bow that not one of these creatures will take a single step passed the Sky Cliff Gates of High Morning”
The day before the horrors would reach his home, Séregon stood on the cliffside where he had a perfect view of the front gates and there he waited. Behind him he had placed exactly one thousand arrows into a large cart. His perfect Eleven eyes were fixed on the front gates and he never blinked an eye. The sun fell and the night took over the sky. It was in the darkest hour of the night, the hour most likely to begin the attack, that Itarillë bravely left the safety of her mountain home to visit Séregon. She told him that she would wait for him to return, no matter how long it took. Itarillë’s small and delicate hand took Séregon’s first arrow and kissed it, handing it to Séregon and whispered into his ear. This inspired the greatest power that an archer had ever known; his eyes were smoking with magic and fury as the army of Horrors approached. “It’s time for you to go. Take this time to sleep now, dream of sweet things in your life, for when you wake no nightmare shall greet you, only the rising of a new dawn.”
Small attack formations and scouting formations were first to arrive, soon they were followed by more. They waited to amass their army for a single, solid attack. As they began the siege on Sky Cliff they chuckled and snarled at the pathetic creature perched on the mountain above in plain sight. As they approached the gate they glared at him and dreamed of crushing his tiny bones. Eventually, the biggest, strongest of their kind arrived with an elite death squad of personal protection. He wore gruesome trophies of past deeds.
Séregon took hold of an arrow as it turned to the color of white snow and he aimed it. The magically infused bow unleashed the arrow with the sound of an explosion. He fired directly into the lines of the horrors, striking the heart of their leader and killing him instantly. The brilliance of the shot greatly hurt the moral of the enemy and they slowed down before they actually had a chance to get started.
Then with the sound of a raging waterfall a hundred arrows filled the sky, each as white as snow, every one striking at the heart of a horror perfectly. More and more arrows followed until the sky itself appeared totally white with falling snow. Every arrow struck home, some even appearing to bend from their path, as if destiny itself had deemed that no heart of a horror would go un-pierced this day. Within but a few short moments one thousand horrors lay on the floor dead, each with its heart pierced by a white arrow.
It is said that Séregon carefully placed his bow on his back and calmly walked up to Itarillë’s door and knocked three times. When she opened it he smiled and said:
“Good morning my love, you would not believe the day I just had!”