Southfort was a dark place that struggled to recall better times and believe they ever happened, for the warm light of the sun was as foreign as food from another shore. Thick smog choked the air, reflecting the malevolence and apathy of the government that ruled with an iron fist. The streets were lined with propaganda posters displaying the deceitful smiles of the Orc leaders, their eyes sinister and hungry for control, their greedy grasping hands outstretched to steal or demand, if they weren't clenched tight and ready to strike.

In the center of the room stood a Moon Elf man named Thomas, tall and graceful with a strength that belied his slender frame. His alabaster skin seemed to glow softly, radiating an ethereal light that had long been suppressed by the grime on his face and the darkness that engulfed the city. His eyes, a striking shade of iridescent blue, carried the weight of countless sorrows but still held a spark of resilience and hope.

Thomas's once regal silver hair that had once cascaded down his shoulders was now cut short and dyed black. Despite the hardships, his pride remained intact, and the gentle smile he often showed his daughter of thirteen years was a testament to the love he held for what remained of his family. For as long as she lived, he had hope for the future. And that hope could help him endure anything.

In their tiny apartment, an old flickering candle cast an eerie glow, accentuating the weariness etched on the father's face as he prepared for another day under the oppressive regime. His name was Thomas, and his heart was burdened with anger and frustration, yet he had to maintain a facade of compliance to protect his daughter, Elise.

Beside him, Elise was seated at her table, a vision of youthful innocence everywhere but her eyes. It was hard for him to remember a time when those bright, cerulean eyes were wide with curiosity, focused on her books when he wasn't telling her stories before bed. Now they were tired, cold, dulled. Her golden hair cascaded down her back like a radiant waterfall, shimmering with every movement, as though rebelling against the oppressive bleakness of the world around her. Around her neck was the black ragged scarf she had to use to hide that hair for fear of attracting Orcish attention. It was black, like the rest of the rags their family wore. Anything more colourful could draw attention.

The room they found themselves in was a stark contrast to the ethereal beauty of its inhabitants. The cracked grey walls were almost as depressing as the black mold in the bathroom. Their shower had been broken for the past four days, and it would be broken until he saw paycheck at the end of the month. Fate often saw fit to inflict damage upon their house they could not afford to treat or repair. Flickering fluorescent lights once buzzed overhead, casting a harsh and sterile glow that seemed to siphon away any warmth, but then they broke. Relying on the electricity to work any given day in a sufficiently Orc-infested society was like relying on a Casino to let you leave with more money than you entered with. The furniture was sparse and worn, a few mismatched pieces gathered haphazardly, some with broken arms, a stark reminder of their humble existence as second-class citizens forced to make do with stained second-hand furniture. And it was existence, but it was not life.

Against one wall, a cracked mirror reflected their weary forms, distorting their features, as if symbolizing the shattered lives they led under the oppressive regime. A threadbare rug lay in the center of the room, its once vibrant colors faded to a dull, lifeless gray.

Despite the bleakness of their surroundings, a small bookshelf adorned one corner of the room, filled with tattered books that held stories of hope and bravery from a bygone era. And it was nothing compared to the secret stash of banned books they memorized before passing on to the next rebel. A few cherished photographs adorned the walls, capturing fleeting moments of joy and love, providing a glimpse into the life he once knew and still hoped to reclaim. And in the center of it all were the paintings of his wife.

The flickering candle cast dancing shadows across their faces, reflecting the struggle and sacrifice etched into their expressions. In each other's eyes, they found solace, drawing strength from the connection they had forged through a lifetime of adversity.

Elise was seated at her table, poring over her history textbook filled with this decade's version of the government's revisionist lies. Lies that painted Moon Elves like his daughter as monsters responsible for everything wrong with the world, and Orcs as the heroes and rightful heirs to every throne, every seat of power, and every power. Thomas couldn't bear to watch her innocence being tainted by the strain of learning to get good at lying, and practice keeping her lies straight, but he knew in this society it was more important than learning to walk.

"Daddy, why do I have to learn these all these new lies? There are just so many of them... And they're only going to change them again in a few years." Elise tried to sound bored, but couldn't keep her voice from trembling near the end.

Thomas sat beside her, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves before responding. "Sweetheart, sometimes doing the right thing in the long run means doing something bad now. Like telling an Orc the Elf they're chasing went left, when he really ran right, so the Orcs don't get him. I know the schools are lying to you. They lied to me, too, and they're lying to everyone. But if you don't remember what we're supposed to believe this year and remember to be seen believing it, the government will get angry at us. It might even make an example of us."

"But it's not fair, Dad. These stories don't even make any sense. Why can't we all just tell the truth and get along?" Elise's frustration was palpable, and Thomas struggled to hide his own turmoil. "I'm tired, Dad. Tired of being hated. Tired of being a Moon Elf in an Orc's world and tired of pretending any of this is because of us. Tired of everything."

Thomas brushed away a tear that escaped his eye, knowing that his daughter deserved better than this life of fear and deception. He couldn't protect her from everything, but he was determined to shield her from the worst of the government's influence.

"I know how you feel, Elise, and it breaks my heart too," Thomas whispered, his eyes locking onto the portrait of himself and his late wife and the rural town behind her. It was a constant reminder of his loss, of what the Orcs took from Moon Elves like him, but he wouldn't forget it. He couldn't allow himself to forget a second of it, no matter how much easier it would be to give up and believe the Orcs. But a new generation was alive today, a generation that couldn't remember a time when the Orcs didn't rule the world. He had to set a good example for her. If the Orcs took her mind, it wouldn't matter where he took her body. "Just remember we're not alone. There are others who see through the lies, and we're all going to escape this place soon."

Elise's face lit up with hope, her young heart finding comfort in her father's promise. "Really, Dad? We'll leave this awful place?"

"Yes, my love. We'll find a way out, away from these evil Orcs and their lies." Thomas tightened his jaw, anger flashing in his eyes. "Until then, we have to be careful. It won't be easy, but we need to stay strong and remember who we truly are. We need to stay strong while we pretend to be weak. We need to stay smart while we pretend to be brainwashed. Some day we'll have our chance to escape. Until then... Let me help you with your studies."

"But what if you're late for work?"

"I'll blame traffic, and my Orc boss will tell me I should have woken up not just two but three hours before my shift to drive to work ahead of the traffic. And I'll try not to laugh at that entitled rich Orc the next time he calls me entitled. Anyway, let me see that book... Ah, the story of Westfall. Let me guess, your school is telling us we're all monsters who killed Orcs one day for no reason at all and burned their city down, right?"

She nodded.

"Good, that's the same lie they told me when I was your age. It reminds me of how the Orcs say they had a thriving society on their continent with airships and space travel before we came along, stole their technology, destroyed their monuments, and kicked them back into the stone age using stone tools. A ridiculous lie, just like all the rest."

"That lie changed. Now the History classes say our skin made them forget their magic."

"Orcs aren't magic. They've never been magic. We're connected to nature, and they're connected to death. All they know is destruction and deception."

"That's what the school says about us."

"I know. I know your school loves to say we're all inherently evil, too. And they love to say the smog outside came not from the Orcish factories full of Elf child slaves, but the Elves who farm and travel and breathe and do all sorts of other things the government doesn't want us doing."

"They're insane. Insane and evil. And they say we're insane and evil!"

"You can't let yourself believe it, not even for a second. Do you think I'd be working two jobs to support this family and pay your little sister's medical bills if we were all inherently evil? Do you think my dad and countless other misguided Moon Elves would be fighting abroad to protect Orcs from other Orcs in Eastern Orcia if we were inherently evil? We're not evil, and we're definitely not stupid. It's just that somewhere along the way, we started thinking being good means being soft. We're just too soft, and that lets the Orcs get away with things they shouldn't. Like taking over society and making life unaffordable for the working class. Hard to believe people could once support a family of five comfortably with a high school level education. If I wasn't alive just in time to vaguely remember those times, I'd never be able to believe they happened. Anyway, here's the real history of Westfall. Are you ready?"

She nodded.

"Like the rest of this country, it was built around 400 years ago by Moon Elves fleeing from tyrannical despots. People once called Westfall the most beautiful place in the world. They called it The City of Life and Love. Hard to believe, looking at it now. But then, just 200 years ago, the Orcs came."

She looked down, her long Elf ears twitching. "Can't be any worse than this place. There are dirty needles all over the streets and freaks on drugs everywhere and it's not safe to go outside alone any more! The sky is stained black like a rotten Orc tooth! And everyone at school willing to talk to me hates Elves!"

He sighed. "Trust me, it's worse in Westfall today. Orcs spread like a fungus, and their awfulness grows like a weed if left unchecked. The only good Orcs are only good until they stop being afraid of what happens if they stop being good Orcs. Orcs say they've never done anything wrong and they're treated like criminals everywhere they go. But Orcs are treated like a bioweapon by the Goblins who bring them here to use against us. Anything to keep the workers down. It all happened just a hundred years ago... There was a 17 year old girl named Sophie."

"Just four years older than me."

"That's right. She wanted to be a nurse. A 19 year old Orc looked at her, saw an opportunity, and went for it without thinking, as Orcs tend to do. He grabbed her, attacked her, forced her to the ground, ripped her clothes off, and tried to rape her right there in the middle of the street.

"That's horrible!" She cried.

"He was stopped before he could finish. He was pulled away from her and arrested. The Orc was put on trial in front of a jury of his Orc peers, and the Orc judge sentenced him to just two months in jail."

"Just two months in jail for attempted rape?!"

"It's an Orc city. It was once an Elf city, but then the Orcs came and made it an Orc city. When these things happen, you know you're in an Orc city. A group of Moon Elves went to the jail the Orc was being kept in to protest against the short sentence. There are people who've been in jail for longer periods of time over far less serious crimes, after all. That same jail had people who were sentenced for fourteen years or more for speaking out against the Orc invaders too loudly, or owning sharp knives in their kitchen drawers, or defending themselves when attacked by Orcs."

"Then what happened?"

"While the Moon Elves were waving signs and protesting peacefully and getting nowhere, as you cannot appeal to the better nature of naturally evil creatures like Orcs, a gang of Orcs showed up with bows and started shooting at the Moon Elves. Hurling arrows, axes, knives, insults, accusations of pedophilia and insanity and incest and dog-fucking, the usual nonsense. We Moon Elves endured it at first, and then we shot back with our bows. Warning shots, at first, but they kept attacking, so we shot one of them in the arm, and the rest scampered away like rats and left him to bleed out. When the other Orcs heard about this they went berserk and spread the news. It was time for an Kil'Gragthar."

"A what?"

"It's an Orc thing where their tiny brains shut down and they act like mad chimps until they get what they want or die trying. Or get scared into stopping. When one Orc sees another Orc act that way, they see an opportunity to get away with being evil and they choose to join in. And so, the Kil'Gragthar spread across the city. The Orcs raped, burned, looted, murdered. They killed and robbed many of us, but most of their victims were other Orcs. Moon Elves endured, just like we always do. We rebuilt our homes and moved on with our lives. We even rebuilt their homes for them, free of charge, thinking our generosity and mercy would make Orcs like us. We didn't resent the Orcs for losing control. They just do that sometimes."

"Maybe if they killed the Orcs for that we'd all be free now."

"Maybe. About twenty years ago a bunch of Orcs decided they didn't like that part of their history, and started changing it like they've changed most of their history already. Orcish History is like cold lava."

"Cold lava? But that's impossible! Lava is rock when it gets hot enough to melt. Lava can't be cold without becoming rock and ceasing to be lava."

"Exactly. History is about remembering facts and learning from them, but Orcs don't like that. Instead of learning from their mistakes, they'd rather deny those mistakes or blame them on you. You might even know some Elves who are Orcs deep down where it counts. We call it Orc History because it isn't real history, it's bullshit designed to make Orcs hate us and feel proud of themselves. Orcish history is an inherent contradiction, like cold lava."

"I see."

"The Orcs started telling people Westfall was built by Orcs for Orcs despite the best efforts of evil envious cackling moustache-twirling puppy-kicking Elves getting in their way for no real reason, until one day we decided to go over there and start killing them en masse over two days for no apparent reason, and then we left survivors alive for some reason. The Orcs tell this lie, and they tell us we have to apologize for what we did in their fantasies. Like apologising to an abusive spouse for what she says you did in her dream. Funny how the only functional Orc cities exist in Orc fantasies and Orc lies, or rely on Elves to function and stop functioning when too many Orcs take important positions from Elves, isn't it? Anyway, if anyone asks about it, you have to pretend to be brainwashed. Pretend you really think we tried killing them all over two days and failed, and pretend you feel bad about it too. Pretend you hate being an Elf. Pretend you hate yourself as much as the government wants you to. Pretend you're the very model of what an Elf should be under an Orc. Some day, you'll be free. And we'll finally start killing everyone who wants us to keep being slaves."

She smiled full of hope. "I can't wait." 

As the weeks passed, the weight of pretending wore on them. Every time they recited the government's propaganda, it felt like a betrayal of their true selves. But they endured, their hatred for the regime growing with each passing day, fueling their determination to break free.

The day of their planned escape drew near, and the anticipation mingled with fear. They knew the consequences of failure were dire, but the thought of a life lived in chains was even more terrifying.

In this hell, darkness was ever-present, but so was the flicker of resistance and the hope of a brighter future. The father and daughter clung to that glimmer, knowing that when the time came, they would rise against the malevolence that had stolen their freedom, fighting for a world where truth and goodness prevailed, and the Moon Elves could return to nature and see the sun again.