Ivan Pufuktin, High-Elf, General of the KAV, Emperor of Lenisily

Life, Birth

Born a half-elf despite his two high-elf parents, prompting his father to make a deal with Mephistopheles to turn the child into a high elf in exchange for a memorable death. Mephistopheles makes Pufuktin a high elf by giving his long life and long ears but leaving his 'uglier' half-elf features. He was cursed with being able to grow a beard but not hair from the top of his head and his features lacked the grace and beauty of most elves.

Anessen swiftly walked toward the agonizing screams echoing through the halls of the Krasnoye Fortress. Was this whore about to suffer the fate of his late wife Nadya? Perhaps he truly was cursed if every woman who bore him children was destined to die in childbirth. The entrance to Darya's bedroom was surrounded by guards and chambermaids who quickly bowed out of the way as Anessen swooped into the door to see Darya writhing in pain and screaming as she pushed his bastard son into the world. "Why is she in pain?!" he angrily asked the clerics tending to her. They gave him confused looks as if they didn't know. "She's an elf! She shouldn't be in pain!" he exclaimed angrily to them, looking down at the high elf woman covered in sweat and screaming agonizingly. "We... we aren't sure, your Imperial Majesty," one the clerics stuttered. "She's been in labor for hours now!" he exclaimed. Anessen felt anger start to boil in his chest. He reached down and grabbed Darya's blonde, sweaty hair and yanked her head up to look him in the eyes. "Is this my child?" he asked the woman intensely. Darya was covered in sweat and tears and she sobbed in fear as Anessen threatened her. "Y... yes your Imperia-ahhhhh!" she screamed in pain and suddenly gasped for air as the room filled with screams of the child. Anessen threw back her head with disgust and grabbed a clean rag to wipe his hand off before walking over to look down at the screaming baby. "It's... it's a... boy, your Imperial Majesty," the cleric said hesitantly as he cut the umbilical cord and wiped the blood off of the child. The cleric's face was drained of color and he gave Anessen a worried look. Anessen leaned down to look at the child and he scowled in disgust. It was a half-elf. This woman had lied to him. He turned back to Darya who was panting on the bed and crying from the pain she was in. He walked over and aggressively grabbed her jaw in his hand, yanking her face to look into his own. "Do not lie to me, whore. Do you take me for a fool?!" he accused her. She looked at him confused and shook her head as more of her tears started to fall down her puffy red face. "I... I don't know what you mean," she begged him sadly. He clenched her jaw in his hand and she screamed in pain as lines of black magic veined across her face from his hand. "He is a half-elf! He is NOT my son! Do not lie to me you filthy whore!" he yelled in her face. She was sobbing and crying in pain and suddenly he saw her blue eyes fog over as she died in his hand. He dropped her face and turned to see the guards and clerics looking at him fearfully. He walked over and grabbed the child who was swaddled in a bloody rag and took him out of the room. The clerics and guards looked confused but were too scared to question their leader. Anessen quickly made his way into his alter room and closed the two giant iron doors so that no one would follow him. He turned to the black alter before him and sat the child down on top of it and drew his dagger. The child had stopped crying and it looked over at Anessen with his silver eyes and Anessen froze. "Impossible..." he whispered out loud. The baby cooed to him and reached out his tiny hand. "My lord, I need answers," Anessen spoke the dark language of his master. He felt the room grow cold and the baby started to cry as if it was in pain. "You want answers?" the dark voice of Mephistopheles filled the room and Anessen turned to see the devil lord towering over him with his large black wings outstretched behind him. Anessen struggled to hide his nerves in front of the powerful devil who walked over to the child and picked him up in his red hands and studied the crying baby. "Hush," he told the child who almost immediately stopped and looked up at the cold, stoic face of Mephistopheles. "Is... is he... is he my son?" Anessen asked him nervously. Mephistopheles smirked. "He is. Seems my enemy has decided to mess with our plans," he said mysteriously. Anessen had heard Mephistopheles speak of his great enemy before but he never gave a name to him. "What do you mean?" Anessen asked him, worried that he had bitten off more than he could chew with his deal with the devil. Mephistopheles laughed and laid the baby back on the alter. "I mean what I said, Anessen. Perhaps you would like to add a clause to our deal to right this wrong?" he suggested, pulling a long scroll out of the air and a black feathered quill that dripped in red ink that Anessen was pretty sure was blood. "What kind of deal? Is the child your doing?" he accused the devil. Mephistopheles chuckled menacingly. "I wish I had thought of something so devious... but no. I can... reverse it, however," he offered. "I would hate for your name to be raked through the mud if anyone found out that you had birthed a half-elf. It would surely destroy your reputation and integrity," he mused. Anessen's heart started to pound. He couldn't let this mistake ruin everything he'd worked so hard for. "I can get rid of him myself," he decided. Mephistopheles smirked. "You'll never have an heir, then. Your family line will go to your sister. You really want her to have the satisfaction of taking the throne?" he taunted him. Staladin felt himself growing angrier at the idea. "He's a bastard anyway," he said, trying to convince himself he could do it. The small child looked over at him and held out his little hand, trying to reach him. "So do it," Mephistopheles told him. "Clearly you don't need my help," he teased in Anessen's ear. Anessen lifted the dagger over the child who reached his little hand up to it and giggled as if the deadly weapon was a toy. Anessen felt tears coming into his eyes as he thought about killing the tiny, innocent creature. His hand started to shake and he pulled away from the child and paced a few feet away, ashamed to show weakness in front of Mephistopheles. Mephistopheles huffed and held out the scroll which unraveled itself out across the air till the dotted line was in front of Anessen's face. "You're weak without me," the devil told him as the dagger in Anessen's hand suddenly turned into the quill. Mephistopheles raised his brow expectantly at him. "I will turn the child into a high-elf and all your problems will disappear," he promised. Anessen stared him down. "What's the catch?" he asked fearfully. Mephistopheles shrugged innocently. "Only that you stay loyal to me," he promised. "-And, that your death will be... memorable. Everyone across the land will hear of it, making your parents' deaths look like nothing more than a simple accident. People all across the world will whisper your name in fear and you will change the course of Lenisily... forever," he promised. Anessen was conflicted. "Last time I made a deal with you, I sold you my soul. This seems too good to be true, don't you think?" Mephistopheles laughed. "Ah, but you see, this child benefits me as well. It I let you kill him... you'd both expend your usage to me," he said threateningly as his eyes flashed black before returning to their normal silver glow. "I suggest you sign before I become upset that you called me down here because you're too weak to kill a child yourself," he warned Anessen. Anessen cautiously reached out and signed his name on the contract that vanished as soon as he lifted the quill that turned back into his dagger. Anessen watched Mephistopheles perform a dark ritual over the baby. As the cloud of red smoke dissipated Anessen saw the child had elvish ears now. He walked toward it and shook his head as the child was still missing hair from the top of his head and had the rounder features of a half-elf in his face. "He's... he's still ugly," he said fearfully. Mephistopheles scoffed. "What do you think I am? A miracle worker?" he said mockingly as he walked away from the alter. "Wait!" Anessen called out to him, realizing he had been tricked. Mephistopheles turned and gave him an evil smile. "Yes, my servant?" the devil asked him, making it very clear who had the power in the room. "What did you mean? About my death?" he asked him. Mephistopheles smiled. "If you want to prevent an early demise, I guess you could always kill the poor bastard," he said cryptically as he motioned to the child on the alter. "You killed his mother. Surely you're strong enough to kill your own son?" Anessen glared at Mephistopheles in anger. Mephistopheles laughed. "If you killed him though, I would be very disappointed with you for ruining my plans. I warn you not to risk disappointing me, Anessen." Mephistopheles warned him before disappearing in a puff of red and black smoke. Anessen turned back to the child who cooed and reached out to him. Anessen pick up the child as if he was observing a sword. As if it would cut him if he got too close to it. As he looked into the child's silver eyes it giggled and Anessen scrunched his nose in disgust. He thought about his true son. His perfect, beautiful son who had fallen from his Nadya's womb without even a whimper. He was angry. He waved his hand and the iron doors opened and he quickly went back down the halls to the room where the clerics and guards were still waiting for orders. He motioned them all into the room and glared at them in the doorway as he clutched his small child to his chest. "None of you were foolish enough to leave, I assume?" he asked them. "No, your Imperial Majesty," the cleric answered nervously. Anessen smirked at him. "Good, I would hate for any... rumors to get out about such an unfortunate idea that somehow a half-elf was born in the Krasnoye Fortress today and rumored to be the king's heir. It would be quite unfortunate indeed. Don't you think?" he asked the cleric who seemed to be the only one willing to address him. The cleric swallowed nervously. "Of course, your Imperial Majesty." "Of course," Anessen said. "I suppose there's only one way to guarantee that," he said as he waved his hand and the room became engulfed in flames. He stepped back and the door slammed shut as the witnesses to his child's birth screamed and burned to death. The child looked up at Anessen curiously, not finding the screams upsetting and Anessen huffed. "Well then, what shall I do with you?" he asked the child who had latched onto his thumb with his tiny hand. "You'll take your mother's name," he decided. "I don't trust you," he told the child who giggled at him. He scoffed at it. "Your name is Ivan," he told the baby. "Ivan Pufuktin. That's how unimportant you are," he told the child menacingly. The baby cooed at him as if this was a game causing Anessen to shrug is disgust. "Let's find a pathetic chamber maid to dumb you on," he decided. "Clearly your mother is of no use to me now," he motioned to the now quiet room and started walking down the hall to find someone who would take care of his bastard son.