• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Fantasy Tales of Torailin (Private)

Location: Shehodorei
​
A Blood Elven woman who was no more than a hundred years of age made her rounds outside the gates of the kingdom. Her wild curly golden blonde hair tied up into a ponytail to keep it out of her face, pale skin with rosy cheeks, lips plump and moist, and eyes so green that it was a copy of grass in the open valley. Clad in light armor as she wore the Blood Elven signature red tunic, black shoulder plates that extended down to her wrist, black pants that were form-fitted to her body frame that allowed her to move freely. Her weapon was that of a bow that was slung around her left shoulder, and a quiver of arrows strapped to her back; light weapons and armor for one who spent most of their time hiding in trees and moving like the shadows, silently but deadly. Beriadanwen is the name most call her by, and the one is given by her mother, this royal scout stood at a 6’0 height but carried herself with elegance from all the nagging her mother had made over the course of her life. If you continue, you won’t court a nobleman, where are your manners? A lady does not run around chasing animals. Beriadanwen, what am I to do with you? Even the brothels won’t take you. Words she was used too and words her mother continuously beats into her. Though they may be a common habit of her mother, but those words pierced no less than it did before, all her life it was a consistent battle between what her mother wanted and what she wanted. But what did she really want? A question she had been pondering at during her sleepless nights.

Just as any other Blood Elven kin, Beriadanwen was no different when it came to her physical appearance, tall and slender, long limbs and ears that pointed upwards, extending a few inches above her head. It twitched every so often as it was something unusual, why her ears do that was beyond any physician that she had sought. However, there was a secret that she kept; a secret her mother had forced her to keep for their own safety as, by blood, Beriadanwen was a half-human. A half kin or another other races than the Blood Elven kin was seen as anathemas, and for a half breed, as Beriadanwen is, she would be seen as an abomination to their kind. Such pure blood now tainted with dirt from the human race, it will not do, she would face being hanged alongside her mother for such monstrous act. So, she kept her mother’s secret, for the sake of them both.

As she made her way back to the main gates that belong to the Kingdom of Shehodorei, a nation tucked away deep into the dark forest where the timber trees grew abnormally tall and large. A Kingdom shrouded in darkness but also holding a beauty of its own, as the source of light came from small soft glowing orbs that floated around Shehodorei by the millions. Where did these orbs hail from? No one knew, but some have theorized that it was the overflow of magic that surrounded the Blood Elven forest. Many from far and wide had come to see if such rumors were true about such wonder of a Kingdom but none had returned alive to tell the tale as many would never leave alive when trespassing the Blood Elven nation. Small critters ran along Beriadanwen’s feet which made her stop momentarily, not wanting to bring harm to such innocence, even with a half-blood of a Blood Elf, there was a gentleness to Beriadanwen. Something pure and innocent in her eyes and how she’s the world around her, may it be she had not left the clearing of this forest, but may it also be she was only, but a young elf compared to most.

When she stood in front of the silver gates, the guard who too wore red armor turned to face her with a glaring look on his face. His glowing green eyes narrowed down at the woman, looking her over from her face to the armor she wore. Was he suspicious of something? Yes, he had the right to be as there have been words spreading across the Kingdom that Beriadanwen was not all as she seemed. A kin of theirs who could not wield the Blood Elven magic was strange indeed, impossible as such power flowed naturally in their veins. And it was evident in the woman’s eyes, it did not glow green or yellow like the rest, it did not speak of power nor did it speak the proud notion of being who they are. But such talks of dangerous claims were always shut down by the former King, why as many would ask? Her mother was taken in as the former King’s consort and part of his harem, and that elven woman had her way into influencing the court in many ways.

Many have questioned this consort’s place in the palace as well as Beriadanwen’s, they questioned the idea of why the King brought such into his home whereas Beriadanwen’s mother was not of noble birth while the others were. Bewitched by her mother’s beauty, he took agreed not to separate a mother from a child, which soon lead to Beriadanwen growing up in the palace. She had the same luxury as the crowned prince of Shehodorei, the same teachers, the same trainers but the only difference was, she was treated with much scrutiny. Partially due to her mother’s position and the hold she had on the King. Beriadanwen even though was surrounded by many, she left the loneliness inside, even her own mother had no love to give or show while Beriadanwen was a child. The heartbreak and the mourning of her father’s departure were enough to send her mother into depression, and Beriadanwen was only a reminder of that.

However, there was a time growing up in the palace was not as terrible as it seemed to have been, her only friend was the crown prince as both were similar in age. Companionship in a palace so big, parents that did not give them the time of day due to the duties bestowed upon them but as children, it was enough. As time went on, Beriadanwen grew older, she found her specialty as a master marksman and was soon enlisted into the Blood Elven army by the King. Payment for my kindness towards you for all these years. I let you into my home, gave you many privileges that many did not have, and now it is your time to prove yourself if my investment was well worth it, the former King told her once in private. Such words she could not refute but only to nod her head obediently. And it was not the only change that happened in her life, her old friend soon turned into someone she soon felt endearment for but she knew, she was no one. She was no one but only the daughter of a whore, she had nothing to offer juxtapose to those of noblewomen who was suited for the crown prince. And with her own blood befouled wit human blood, she feared what he might think of her if such secret was to be revealed. With that, she took the liberty to keep away, their friendship soon turned to be strangers once more even with how she feels.

“Your mother is asking for you.” A gruff voice sounded in the background pulling Beriadanwen away from her thought of the pass. She only lowered her head, not wanting to meet his elven man’s eyes, it was a subconscious thing she had always done, Keep your head and eyes low, and no one will know, she told herself. “Yes, thanks to you.” A small voice from her pink lip came through before they opened the gate slightly for her to enter. A rustling sound came from one of the large bushes close by, the guards now had their spears ready on hand, lifting it to a defensive pose. Beriadanwen turned her head towards the audible noise yet she was not as tensed as the other two guards but only a small smile spread across her lips. A large lion who was about the height of 7’5 emerged from the bushes, fur, and mane black as night and shined like the moon, and eyes red as rubies. “Messiah, there you are. I was starting to think you might have gotten lost.” Beriadanwen spoke with amusement in her voice. The guards lowered their weapons as soon as they saw who it was, they only looked at each other with uncertainty but many knew this lion belonged to the strange elven woman.

”Lost? I’m never lost, only lost in mind during a hunt.” Messiah spoke as he pushed his way between the gates to enter. His voice could only be heard by Beriadanwen herself as his only way of communication was through her telepathically, it was a bond the two had formed when Beriadanwen had accidentally ventured out into the forest. And now she was never without Messiah, as the two are inseparable; each morning the two would leave the gates and scouted the area for any unseeing enemies and anything to be away from the palace as much as she could. Messiah gave the guards a low growl before turning his head to look at Beriadanwen who already started to walk away, it did not take much effort for him to catch up close at her heels. White cobblestones filled the Kingdom’s floors, building built with white marble glow with the floating orbs in magnificent, towers that almost kissed the darkness looming above ad the white walls contrasted against it.

The people were always dressed elegantly in red, the market square was now starting to clean their stalls and turn in for the rest of the day, children running around happily in the streets, small stores still open that sold magical items and potions while other sold trinkets. Beriadanwen and Messiah took their time as they walked the path leading to the palace that was situated on a hill. It was hard to miss such a palace so grand it had waterfalls flowing out on each side, gracefully splashing against the rocks. Beautiful floral vines creeping up against the white marble as flowers bloomed in all colors, archways designed with angels, only for the Kings themselves. Marble pillars so large to hold the ceilings painted with the heaven they envisioned, some even painted in gold.

Upon arriving at the front doors of the palace, Beriadanwen was allowed access easily as this was where she returned during the times she needed to retire for the day, it was also where her mother continues to reside even after the King’s death. The crowned prince and now King allowed them to keep the home that his father opened to them, yet Beriadanwen remained in the shadows and ensuring she never cross paths with the new King. Her boots echoed in the halls as the elven woman and her black lion made their way to Noviyn’s chambers, Beriadanwen as usually kept her eyes on her feet, not wanting to look up or at anyone. “How long more do we need to live here?” Messiah said as his claws clicked away at the brown marble tiles. “I don’t know, this is our home. I suppose…” her voice was distant, as though her mind was conflicted with itself. “I don’t know, there are times I do want to leave but at the same time, there are things that make me stay.” She stopped talking once she had reached her mother’s door, she knew how her mother hated how she conserves out loud with the black lion of hers.

Beriadanwen knocked three times on the door and instantly Hanna, her mother’s handmaiden pulled one of the doors open. Another Blood Elven woman with hair black as night, and skin just as pale, yellow glowing orbs as eyes, this elven woman was dressed in red as well, but her linen was not as grand as those she had seen her mother wore. A difference between rank and social class, but Hanna did not care who Beriadanwen is as a frown appeared on her face when the two came face to face each time. “Your late” Hanna hissed at Beriadanwen with much dislike before making way for the golden blonde elf to enter. Noviyn’s room was as grand as the many others, solid red drapery with golden tassels, a bed that was covered in red sheets with a timber bed frame what was coated with a shine. A bath pool that was built into the floors in the center made of colorful small tiles, was filled with steaming hot water added with milk and wildflowers that sent its floral aroma through the room. A study table at the left corner near the window where the light gave a luminescent sheen towards it, the large painting hung on the walls while the ceiling was also painted to the woman’s liking, a vanity with a large mirror of white, where Noviyn was now sitting at. A room far too grand only for a consort to the late King.

“My dear daughter, what am I to do with you. How many times must I tell you to control that beast you have growing out of your head.” Noviyn spat at the sight of her own daughter. Beriadanwen as per usual, remained quiet with clenched jaws and Messiah turned to look at Noviyn with a distasteful glare in his red eyes. “Beast? Who is calling a beast?” it said. “She’s talking about my hair. Hush you before you-“

“How many times must I tell you to stop talking to that animal, I don’t even know why you took it in. Of all things, not even a white rabbit but a damn monster of a lion.” Noviyn cut her own daughter off. Beriadanwen had to push Messiah back slightly before he mauled her mother, something she did not want to be responsible for. Noviyn met her daughter’s green vivid eyes with her own silvery one through the reflection of the mirror, like the moon pools of Shehodorei, they glowed white. A matching complexion to Beriadanwen’s, the older elven woman had pale skin with rosy cheeks, lips red like cherries but hair of the palest blonde one would imagine. Many men called this vixen of Shehodorei the Moon Goddess for her beauty was fair and known to those at court, she was once the former King’s prized possessions and years never once aged this woman. Hanna had now returned to what she was doing before Beriadanwen’s presence, which was combing Noviyn’s long hair before styling it into the common fashion of the Blood Elves.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Noviyn spoke again with impatience. “Ungrateful child, all these years have I taught you nothing? Go clean yourself before you speak to me.” And with that Noviyn lifted her right hand and waved it in the air gently to dismiss her daughter. Beriadanwen only shifted uncomfortably where she stood, fearing to speak a word but when she was dismissed, she was quickly ushered out of her mother’s room by Hanna. No, she was pushed out forcefully and shoved out the door with a rough push on the back before having the door slammed in her face. She brought her right hand to her upper left arm, sinking into her shell and wanting nothing more than to be alone, she walked herself to her own chambers. She pulled the door open to her own space that was given to her since she had been living in the palace, it was not as grand as her mother’s, in fact, this room bare with only the minimum. It was poorly lighted and dim, only a small candle by the corner where her books rested. A bed that was unkempt and laid in the left corner pushed against the wall, the paint on the walls was peeling and the floors of cement than of marble. Just like her mother’s room, there was a bath pool also centered in the middle of the room; however, it would seem someone had already filled it with hot water.

Beriadanwen frowned having her mother invade her space, though it wasn’t much but it was a place she had peace and quiet to herself at times when she was in the palace grounds. But regardless, she could use this time to relax before having to appear before her mother again; removing her armor first and placed it to the side, she proceeded to remove the rest of her clothes before entering the comforting waters. Rose petals covered the surface as Beriadanwen leaned against the wall of the bath while Messiah laid close by behind the woman, she breathed in the aroma of roses before exhaling loudly with a sigh. She felt miserable.
 
Last edited:
He was named Shaegar for an uncle he'd never met, and he had been born silent.

It had been taken as an ill omen within the walls of the castle when, after strenuous hours of labor, Shae had been brought into the world a strange infant, with dark eyes and darker hair, who stared as if already weary of the world around him. The midwife had only examined him briefly before shaking her head in sorrow and proclaiming, softly so that his mother might not hear, that the prince would not live. Babies who were born without weeping were said to be weak of lung or of constitution, always surrendering to poor health or other outside influence. The queen, several centuries her husband's junior, had been left weakened by the experience of birthing Shaegar. She managed to survive until his eighth birthday before death finally claimed her.

King Rowan, despite his admitted skill as a ruler, had not been a likable man. He looked the part of a king from his blazing green eyes to the gold-studded armor he so often wore, and his voice was booming and assured when he spoke. Those in his court had looked at him with respect and reverence. The common folks viewed him as some unknowable deity, extending mercy or wrath depending upon the course of their actions. Fellow diplomats regarded him with wary apprehension, never fully trusting his impulses not to lead into conflict or bloodshed.

His son viewed him with complete fear.

Shaegar, despite the odd occurrence of his birth, grew into a likeable child who had an unfortunate talent for mischief. Afternoons would find him climbing up along the tone walls or terraces of the castle, his arms spread out on either side for balance as the wind tousled his black, curly hair. He had no mind for politics or deception, was a terrible liar. The only thing he truly felt he was skilled at, aside from his penchant for climbing, was archery. He'd been gifted a bow carved from the branch of an ash tree, the wood a rich brown that turned almost black towards the ends. The bow, along with the quiver of crow-feather arrows, had been a gift from his aunt on his twelfth nameday, and he had rarely let it out of his sight since. His aunt Lennox was a fiery woman of whom his father greatly disapproved-she'd served during the village attacks at the hands of the Wildmen when she was just fourteen, and despite the scar on her jaw and the lines of age in her face, it was strikingly obvious that she had once been a woman of great beauty. She shared Shaegar's dark hair and eye color, though the similarity in her features was more alike to her brother, the king. She had been gifted with an affinity for magic, revered as an accomplished sorceress. Shae respected his aunt more than any other girl he knew-except maybe his friend.

He hadn't known much about where the girl came from, only that her mother knew his father. Being a child, Shae understood little regarding the nature of his father's relationship with her mother-only when he had grown older had the coin dropped, and he began to view the elven woman with distrust and resentment. That his father would replace his mother so effortlessly, with as little thought as a chicken moving from one hen to the next, made Shae's stomach turn. His parents had never loved each other-he understood that-but it was an insult to his mother's memory.

But this distaste for the adults in question had never bled through to the girl, who's name he had not been able to pronounce correctly for the first few weeks of their friendship. Beriadanwen had more in common with him than they had differences-both children were curious about the world, had a penchants for breaking (or bending) the rules, and both felt alienated from the person who raised them.

It's a bittersweet thing, viewing childhood memories though the elense of adulthood. Seasons seem to last forever, with no concern for whatever lay in the future, not even a suspicion that the two would ever go separate ways.

But Shea had grown up. He'd had to.

The bond between the two children had not gone unnoticed by Rowan, who took his son's actions as a deliberate challenge to his authority, and had struck down hard and fast. Shaegar had not yet been considered an adult when the king had summoned him to his chambers, the firelight casting a hellish glow on his face that made his blue eye glint and appear almost mad with fury.

"The Gods are cruel," King Rowan had intoned, Sheagar feeling his father's gaze pierce through him even as he stared rigidly at his boots. "I am given a single son, who not only has the cowardice of a woman, but will shame me in the name of one."

When Rowan had passed, old age deteriorating the King's flesh and eventually his sanity, he had left Shaegar nothing. For reasons, the will stated, that should be perfectly well known to him.

Attached also was a stern reminder of Shaegar's oath.

It had been that same night that the true heritage of his closest friend had been revealed, and this had startled Shaegar only in fear for her. Halflings-or the vulgar expression, half breeds-were considered unsightly and low class. To accosiate with someone of that status could bring the utmost shame and embarrassment, for reasons that held no real logical root beyond pride and vanity. Shae had exchanged her safety for his silence, for the complete alienation of himself from her.

And so, in a matter of just a few months, Shae had become as silent as the day he was born.

The king was young-remarkably young, in a way which worried officials and delighted the schemers. Yet never had a young man of barely twenty sat so still, or looked so old. The crown, an elegant thing fashioned like the twisting of tree roots, appeared heavy on his head, and his shoulders were stiff and unmoving. His eyes were still dark, his expression kept carefully blank.

Surrounded by members of the court, King Shaegar, first of his name, was totally alone.

"It is a direct challenge. An act of disrespect," the Head Advisor continued, his hair glinting silver in the candlelight, "To take an axe to our lands is to spit in our face."

"Your highness, I have our most skilled soldiers waiting to attack whenever the word is given." This time it was Sir Draymore, head of the army. "We go to the Human kingdoms by down and set fire to their villages, or we take our spellcasters and perform a blood-curse. That will teach them never to take us so lightly again."

"There is still a great risk," argued a third elf, this one bearing a long scar down his cheek.. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, but the fact that you are without magical ability poses a very great risk. You should be guarded, at least until the threat passes."

"I don't need to be watched over like an infant." At last, Shaegar spoke, his voice a smooth tenor. He swept one hand back through his hair, kept rather shorter than was tradition for those of his stature, but still bearing enough length to be tied back into a short tail at the back of his head, two thin braids twisting into the back. "If the humans meant to incur a full war, they would have marched on us to begin with. I know their king, and he isn't a subtle man."

The knight opened his mouth, but Shaegar held a hand up to silence him. "However," he continued. "I'm not going to wait and twiddle my thumbs. In a few days, I will travel to the kingdom myself and demand repentance for this act."

"My King, you must let me and at least a small section of my finest accompany you. Let me take our spellcasters and best swordsman. I refuse to risk your life in this endeavor."

Draymore's words of cancer brought a hollow smile to Shae's face. "I'll accept that. In the meantime, double your patrols around the forest's edge. I want no one coming or going until I'm sure the situation is resolved. In the meantime, this meeting is adjourned."

What was said was said. Those in company drew themselves to their feet, giving the customary deep bow in Shae's direction. One by one, they filtered out, and he was properly alone.

Feelings the beginnings of a headache, Shaegar set his crown down on the table, resting his face in his palms. They felt cool in contrast to the warmth in his cheeks. He'd spent a majority of the day in this very meeting, which had lasted a grueling five hours. The timing for this emergency couldn't have been worse-he'd scarcely been king for a month, and already, the threat of war was breathing down his neck.

Maybe it wasn't too late to just run away into the desert or something.
 
Last edited:
Shehodorei​

War was never easy on a kingdom or the people for that matter, so much blood that their own hands reeked of it. The cries of the mothers loving their child in a siege between two kings while the lands beneath their feet riddled with small hills from the graves they have to dig. How long more must they go on? What of supplies? Will there be enough for not just the army but the common people as well? The people suffered but they continue to stand tall as Blood Elves were known to be resilient towards many things being thrown their way. Each morning the sounds of singing metal could be heard through Shehodorei, soldiers being trained and retrained so they may face their foes prepared. Royal guards trained within the palace grounds all under the watchful eyes of the generals. Even if one were a master of their skill, there were no formal predictions that the human was less capable than they are.

Though there have been many triumphs for the Blood Elves with multiple casualties, they were fortunate enough as the neighboring human kingdom was arrogant enough to come into their territory. The woods belonged to Blood Elves, they knew each path and corner, which tree stood the highest to be perched up upon. Their powers enhanced just by their homeland itself, their morals increased as they knew each trap and route to flank from, causing those humans confusion upon ambush. And as victories of small battles, many came home wounded, and some never came home at all.
Beriadanwen had been one of the lucky few to only went by with flesh wounds or two, never anything serious as the woman was one who knew where to position herself each time an enemy was sighted. A sharpshooter up in the trees, one hidden under her own cloak within the shadows with her sights locked into a target. Arrow ready and the string of her bow pulled back with a steady hand, and with a quick short breath, her arrow meets its mark. But even with the many years of honing her skills, Beriadanwen was still forced into the early morning training which she was very reluctant towards. The more she had to spend in the palace the worse her moods became and having her mother at such a close vicinity did not help her situation either. Especially when Noviyn was consistently hounding the poor woman into being more “lady-like,” which Beriadanwen did not know how to appease her.

Beriadanwen always did her best with what she was told to do by her mother, she was a lady as she could get while still clad in full armor. There was never a time where Beriadanwen was not seen in any other form of clothing as she was called upon any hour when an enemy reaches their borders. So, she decided she would always be ready, always prepared and being where she must within minutes. However, today was a quiet day, a day where many were thankful for as the kingdom got the rest it needed. Even inside the palace was peaceful than usual with the generals and soldiers running around trying to convey all and any reports to the Crown Prince. And as Beriadanwen took her time in the bath, she embraced the solitude and silence that was blessed upon this day. The bathwater soon turned lukewarm, her fingers started to prune which was a sign she needed to leave the water; Beriadanwen slowly stood up and pulled herself out of the bath before making her way to dry herself by the fireplace.

The orange flicker of flames licked at the stone walls it was contained too, warming the woman’s body at the same time. A cast of orange glow onto her body as she reached over for another set of her armor to put on; this time it wasn’t her regular red and black but something veering towards a lighter shade. Beige linen top and tight fitted pants, a light bronze breastplate carved with a design that mimics growing vines, it was shaped to her body which allowed protection in all her vital spots. Deep brown boots and a red hood around her neck, and as she was fastened her arm brace, she heard a knock on her door. Her brow raised, usually, no one knocked on her door, no one usually was looking for her unless it was her mother. With a deep unwilling sigh, she made her way towards the door before pulling it open slightly, giving only a little space to whoever that was on the other side.

“Hurry up, your mother is waiting.”

Hanna said in the cold voice, frosty enough to put out the fire in her room. The woman’s glowing yellow eyes narrowed at Beriadanwen in abhorrence, Beriadanwen said nothing on her part as she did not wish to cause more trouble towards this woman than she already has. She did not know what she did wrong towards Hanna but then again, there were many who treated her the same as this handmaiden did. Beriadanwen pulled the door wider to allow her body and Messiah to move through before closing it behind her and Hanna without another word turned on her heel to walk away, expecting the golden blonde woman to follow. Quietly Beriadanwen walked a few paces behind the woman, the halls where guards used to be were not around as she had noticed. Must be at training again, she thought as she turned towards her companion.

“What do you think your mother wants now?” Messiah asked as his claws clicked at the marble floors as he walked beside Beriadanwen.

“The usual, making sure I’m not a man,” she replied with a small chuckle in her breath.

“How many times must I remind you to never speak to that thing while you’re in public. People will think you’re mad.” Noviyn’s voice rang out sharp and clear from the patio garden that overlooked the ocean as it was built upon one of the palace towers. Her silver mirror eyes now glared at the black lion with distaste as she questioned why the King had allowed such beast into the palace grounds. However, her King was no more, taken from her by age that no physician was able to find a cure to treat, and during his last hours of the night. Noviyn was at his bedside the most compared to most, showing false sorrows and sympathy towards the royal family, something she was fairly good at as she had much practice over the years.

“Sorry mother.”

Beriadanwen said softly with a slight smile at Messiah before giving her full attention to the woman. Noviyn narrowed her eyes at her daughter as she sat by the bench that was placed in the middle of the garden, bare feet against the grass as she absorbed the magical properties from nature itself. The many choices her daughter had made with her life was always against her wishes, the many suitors she had picked for her daughter were all turned down without a second thought. All she hoped was for Beriadanwen to live the life she wanted her too, she wanted to elevate both their status in society but Beriadanwen was not making it easy for her.

With their secret, it would only be a matter of time before someone finds out Beriadanwen was not of pure blood, and if she was still without rank in any place of the court, both would be hanged. And there are many who would be happy to pay to see Noviyn punished as this woman not only charmed her way into court but also made a few enemies within it.
“There is a nobleman-“ Noviyn began but she could hear Beriadanwen made a disgruntled sound which only irritated her further.

“As I was saying, there is a nobleman who I think you may enjoy the company off.”

She said with a false smile. Beriadanwen for a moment said nothing to her mother, she knew her mother wanted to marry her off the highest bidder, to climb that social ladder that had been created by their society itself. Yet, she sought no interest in court nor did she see anything interesting in men that do.

“No mother, for the last time. I am not marrying a stranger.” Beriadanwen said flatly, standing her ground on something she was not willing to do. She was just as stubborn as her mother and if now, she was more. Noviyn gave a small sign in disappointment before standing up, making her way towards her daughter and Messiah.

“You need to get rid of that animal. I don’t want you around it anymore, it is deterring many suitors away.” Was all the woman said as she eyes Messiah.

“No! I am not getting rid of the only friend I have, if you-“ Beriadanwen was silenced by her mother with a hand raised towards her face.

“Do not argue with me, child. You have no right to, I am your mother and you will do as I say. I am only doing what is best for you. You must know that.”

Noviyn said as she made her way towards the inner halls of the palace with Beriadanwen following at her side and Messiah behind. A cold silence between what suppose to be a motherly bond with her daughter was non-existence, Noviyn could care less what happened to her daughter during the time of war, just as long her status was kept in place within the courts. But with this new king, King Shaegar, things are getting difficult for her to navigate through the court. She knew the young man did not like her ever since he had come to the senses of who she was to his father but this woman knew how to hide behind her daughter in regard to the Crown Prince. She knew how to use her daughter’s name in places to get the things she wanted, to get where she wanted, disregarding what may happen to Beriadanwen.

However, the route that Beriadanwen had chosen to be part of the royal scouts' sector of the army brought Noviyn no joy what-so-ever, she despised seeing her daughter dressed in armor or the idea of a woman wielding a weapon. War should be left to the men, while women learn the ways of charm, she had tried multiple times to get Beriadanwen to learn the proper way but it would seem, the court life was not the one Beriadanwen wished to be apart off. She had questioned her daughter’s defiance towards such but only received a vague answer as she gave about her human father. She side-eyed her daughter who has been walking with her head to the floors and narrowed her eyes carefully at the young elven woman’s features. She may have the features of a blood elf but there was an uncanny resemblance to how Beriadanwen is to her father. The stubborn nature to the green eyes, the way she was able to adapt to her surrounds so quickly and like a sponge, she was taking in all the abuse that many had thrown her way. Weak, was what Noviyn has always thought of her daughter, if only Beriadanwen was more like her, there may be some love she could give but the Gods had different plans.

“Stop looking down.” Noviyn snapped again and this time Beriadanwen turned her head up to look at her mother with a slight frown.

Beriadanwen was one who would never speak out till it was necessary, yes she was able to overcome many obstacles in her life, she worked twice as hard as most to even be given the slightest recognition amongst her peers. But even then, many were do not see her as their equal, magic was something she was never able to grasp, she had tried small spells her mother tried to teach her, but nothing more than a spark. Blood Elven magic was out of the question, she could never even summon a spark of any sort. All she could do to make up for what she was missing was through books, Beriadanwen during her free time would lock herself away in her chambers, her nose buried in words as her imagination was set free. Something to compensate her endless wonder about the world beyond the clearing of their forest, she wanted to see each corner of the world, the dragons, other races but most of all, where her other half of herself hailed from.

The two women made their way towards the meeting room where most of the important people of the Blood Eleven army met during dire times such as these. And it was where Noviyn loved to instill her presence towards those within it, why was this woman still lingering about? Many would question, but many would only live with the question unanswered.

“Wait, mother. I don’t think we should impose ourselves, it isn’t right.”

Beriadanwen said as she stood far from the door, she did not know who was behind those doors but there was a slim chance, someone that she has been avoiding for many years would be. Something she wouldn’t want to face right this instance.

“Sweet child. It is not imposing, I only want to wish those who fight the war a fair chance of goodwill.”

Noviyn said with a smile while she pushed the door open to enter and Beriadanwen knew nothing of her mother’s “goodwill” was ever good. Beriadanwen sighed, she knew she couldn’t stop her mother but she could keep herself out of sight for now as she stood behind the door with her back against it. Though she remained hidden, she could hear the conversation well. Messiah, however, was not so subtle, the black lion sat right in front of the door in plain sight, his red eyes watching Noviyn moved around the room gracefully. His ears perked and ready to catch the woman’s schemes, he had never liked her since he was a cub as Noviyn would usually throw him out of her room each time he followed Beriadanwen in. He even remembered the time Noviyn had threaten to slaughter him like a pig when he chewed on her favorite dress but it was always Beriadanwen who had come to his aid. And now, he wanted to do the same for the elven woman.

“Ahh...your majesty. I thought I might find you here. I hope all is well with the plans. No one expected you to ascend your father’s throne so soon. Such a shame, you could have learned more from a great man.”

Noviyn’s words laced with spite while Beriadanwen only shook her head at the words flowing out of her mother’s mouth like water. How does she get away with it all? Was what Beriadanwen always thought when her mother parades herself like so.

“I am sure you will eventually make a fine king yourself, one day. In which we all hope. So tell me, where have you planned our future as a nation? Warfare seemed to strike you with age, I do hope this isn’t something you can not handle but if indeed you do need help. I may be of service, I know the ways of the court, years of experience if you will.”

A sly smile now spread across the woman’s lips, her mirror pool eyes casting a sharp glare at the new king. Something about this woman seemed to test the limits to where she could go, and as ambitious as many, she was willing to do much more to rise to the top. Beriadanwen felt sympathy towards Shaegar, she might not understand the overwhelming burden of the crown but she knew the stress of having many expectations being planted into the roots of his life. Such a time ago they shared many things, the carefree life and freedom to believe the world had an adventure and destiny for them to follow in but she never thought such destiny would lead them where they stood now. She will not lie she missed someone to talk too, other than a lion but times were different and she will not add more burden to what the king already bore on his shoulders.

Her mother’s words were harsh and if only she could apologize on her mother’s behalf, she would. Beriadanwen crossed her arms across her chest, her brows furrowed as she tried to formulate a plan to pull her mother away without being seen or heard but she knew nothing would be enough to stop this woman from speaking. So, she did what she never wanted to do or did for the past years, she stepped out of hiding and made her way inside the room. Her jaw clenched and her green eyes soon fell upon her old friend, but it quickly shifted to her mother.

“Pardon the interruption, your majesty but I think my mother has overstayed her presence. Do forgive her words.”

Beriadanwen spoke, her words hard but polite all at the same time and it was when her mother locked eyes onto hers. She knew Noviyn was furious, she knew she would never see the end of it and if Noviyn was able to push her off a cliff without consequences, she would. Silence, everything fell to silence as the birds outside singing their tunes, oblivious to the world around them.

“I don’t think that was the wisest decision you have made, Beria. You’re going to get us kicked out of the palace ground. Where will we sleep tonight?”

Messiah said as he too made his way inside the room to stand behind the golden blonde woman, his eyes unnerving.


Trathen
​
King Ellias was sitting in his throne room, his generals and tacticians circled a wooden table made from timber logs that they had deforested from the Blood Elves not many weeks ago. He had requested one of the carpenters in his Kingdom to design a table where he could be motivated into annihilating the Blood Elven race for good. Why? Because they have the resources they need, as these humans have already run dry of their own and it was not only the timbers they wanted, it was the endless flow of magic that radiated through the lands of Shehodorei. Ellias wanted it, he wanted to expand his home further, he wanted the whole Eastern continent to be under his rule, to be crown the one true king across the land.

It was his ambition since being crowned as King of Trathen, he had sought to bring all kingdoms around him in unity but only one stood alone and stronger than he had anticipated, Shehodorei.

“Your Majesty. I propose not only an alliance with Rheasien but with Kelgad as well. This will not only increase our chances, but it will increase supplies and strength against Shehodorei.”

One of the generals spoke with a thick accent in his voice, it was clear that this man was from a different land altogether, but his tactical skill had gained the attention of the King and was soon promoted to be one of the leading generals of his army. Maps and books were laid all across the table, some opened with marked pages and some remained closed for a later time. There were also chalices around the table filled with wine for drinking as they tried to strategize their next attempt once more.

So far, their luck was not in their favor, they had been losing men from all the small expeditions they had been sent on with trying to crave at the Blood Elven numbers. But each time they were met with an ambush from all sides. They tried to enter through the main forest but rangers and scouts deterred them with arrows of poison, they tried a more remote area of the clearing but traps were already set, the river that divided the elven kingdom from the rest of the east was next, but men were lost trying to swim through with an attempted ambush.

Ellias had tried a more civil way of approach, in the beginning, a piece of advice that meant nothing to him, but he followed if it means him great power. But the Blood Elves were proud, they refused to bend the knee to another king that wasn’t their own and of their own blood. And from the cold war, Ellias took towards a harsher route, he declared an open war towards Shehodorei till they surrendered. An agreement was formed where a battle shall be met but King Ellias went back on his words, sending his men in small troops to raid the city but the gates were shut tight and their people were children of the woods. Tarthen was and will always be at a disadvantage when crossing the Eastern Run River towards the dark woods but for an arrogant and egotistical man such as Ellias, he would rather sacrifice the lives of his men than to admit defeat.

“How are we to trust the orcs? And how are we to send word to them as they are located in the center of the west? We do not have the resources, not enough that is. And we cannot afford to accommodate and allocate more money towards Rheasien, we already own them more than it is.”
The bookkeeper spoke out after the general. He was an elder man dressed in brown robes, the wrinkles on his face told how many more years he had left. He soon turned up from his scroll that he was calculating from and looked towards the king concerned.

“Our treasury is empty my lord. There is nothing left, we need more than just an alliance if we are to win this war.”

The bookkeeper spoke as his voice was raspy. How were they going to feed the people? at this rate, they will all starve to death. The king had put all the money and resources into the war and neglected his own people, they are suffering, and some are starting to question the King’s judgment.

“Who is the new king of Shehodorei?”

Ellias spoke after much contemplation from the news he had just received. His hand under his chin and propped with his elbow on his keen, leaning forward to watch each one of these men’s faces. His chocolate brown hair and honey-colored eyes seemed indifferent to what the people’s concerns were. Dressed in brown and green, the banners of his kingdom stood tall behind his throne, the colors of the King in a checkered pattern as a background while a black eagle stood with its wings spread wide apart.

“Prince Shaegar, my lord. Or now known as King Shaegar.”

Another one of the generals spoke. For a while, the whole room went silent, no one knew what ran through the King’s mind.

“What about the dragon riders of the south? Can we send word to them?” Ellias finally spoke, his voice rumbling through the hall of his throne room.

“We may try your majesty, but I do not see their kind to take us lightly. After all, they are as savage as the orcs.”

The bookkeeper said as he went back to the scroll that had all the recorded expenses for the war. There may be some left for their expedition to the south without leaving the people in Tarthen to starve.

“We need more than just swords and magic. We need the power of dragons and savages they might be, they are fierce warriors of the dessert. Send word to them, I want their best riders and warriors and in honor, they may burn the Blood Elven forest till their heart's content.”

Ellias said before waving at the few generals who own ships by the docks. They will be the few who would be sailing long towards the summer sands and with fingers crossed, they do not get slain before passing the news from the king.
 
Last edited:
The interior of the room seemed a few notches less extravagant then it had been when his father held the crown. This was a room used tor discussion, and Shae's reasoning was that the presence of finery might well distract their minds from whatever the task at hand might be. Their lands by themselves were so small in comparison to the neighboring countries, but it was an ancient nation, one in which pride and dignity flowed like blood through each individual who lived there. Cut off from the world as he was, Shaegar held a firm loyalty to his people that he tried to allow to guide his every action, even if he had taken the crown with reluctance and dislike. It was what had to be done. Such was his responsibility.

Eyes squeezing shut, Shaegar attempted to rehearse the journey ahead in his mind. Draymont would give him a battalion even if he asked the guard to be small, he was sure of that. It would be only a few days march to Trathen, but they wouldn't be received with open arms. There may be trouble on the roads, may very well even be attacks. And once they reached the king...The more Shae tried to think through his plans, the more he began to realize that he was likely walking into a trap.

Footsteps and voices from the hall. The young man's head snapped upward, eyes quickly open an alert as he settled himself into a straighter posture, determined to let none of his fatigue show on his face-and was even more determined once he saw the identity of his uninvited guests. Noviyn, consort to his late father, vixen of Shehodorei and whom he privately referred to as the plague of the woodlands. The contempt, the arrogance which dripped from her voice like thick honey, only served to irritate him further. The brashness of her waltzing in would not go unremembered.

"Lady Noviyn." His face was a mask which only seemed to flicker into something more genuine when he glanced to her daughter, whom he greeted with a small nod. "Lady Beriadanwen. I thought I'd locked the door."

The message was clear-You aren't supposed to be here.

Of course, it was ignored.

It was custom, as far as their rules went, that one would speak as little as possible when addressing someone of Shaegar's newfound status. However, years of familiarity with his father as well as her unwarranted presence in his childhood seemed to have emboldened the elder elf, and she talked quickly, leaving no opportunity for Shaegar to speak-even as her presumption served to strike him with previous offense.

You could have learned more from such a great man. Inwardly, Shae scoffed, but he chose his words carefully. "My father's passing affected us all. I will do what I can in his stead."

It was her next statement, however, which provoked a reaction. His dark eyes flashed, chin lifting somewhat in indignation as he regarded her. Crueler leaders than he might have had her tongue cut out for such a statement, and though the thought crossed his mind, he was far from ever going through with such a previous punishment. For one thing, he had long since been forced to accept that he wasn't a ruthless person, and for another, it would likely do much to hurt the younger elf standing beside her.

It had been difficult to avoid looking at her, when she'd first entered. He'd heard about Beriadanwen's welfare only through rumor and secondhand commentary, knew only that she had proven herself as an accomplished suitor. But it was another thing to see how quickly she had seemed to grow up, though he was sure the same could be said for him. It was difficult to imagine that, at one point not long ago, he might've been able to guess at what she was thinking just by looking at her. Now, he may as well try to read while blind.

He wasn't sure he knew her anymore, and the thought was both startling and unexpectedly sad.

"Though I'm sure your...Influence is impressive, if I had wanted your advice, rest assured that I would have asked." His tone was polite, but the jibe about her so-called influence was unlikely to go unnoticed, and the message was clear that he had little interest, if any at all, in the counsel of his father's mistress.

It was clear that Beriadanwen was mortified by her mother's behavior, and so Shaegar was careful to regard her with a quick, dismissive shake of his head-at least until his gaze roamed over her shoulder at the entrance of the massive lion who kept her company. Surprisingly, Shae's brow arched in a quiet kind of amusement as he regarded the creature.

"I hope you haven't been letting your friend terrorize the poor birds. I quite like them, and it would be a shame if they all disappeared."
 
Shehodorei​

Beriadanwen gave a small chuckle at Sheagar’s word directed to Messiah, her slight curve of a smile appeared on her lips as her eyes now rested on her companion. She faced the same ruby eyes that looked at her in questioned as they always do since this black lion was a cub, she knew the mischief and terror he had instilled in not only the animal life of Shehodorei but at the guards as well. Keeping him locked in her room with herself for the most part to avoid any more trouble she would likely cause with keeping a strange beast around with her.

“He is getting better as he grows but I can’t be certain for your guard running from him with their tails between their legs, your majesty.”

She spoke, more than she was used too. Soon she realized she had spoken out of hand, something that wasn’t permitted, especially one only as a royal scout to his army. Yet, it was nice to see him again after so long, much as he has grown, the quieter he was compared to when he was a child. She remembered the boy who would get them both in trouble multiple times a day, one who loved to scale the tallest trees but now, all she sees is a king fit to rule a kingdom.

As for Beriadanwen, being a child with little means to many things, she still got the best of most. Though the idea of venturing out of Shehodorei was a dream to be desired, she knew there was no place for her kind out there in the world, or at least it was what her mother had told her. Her green eyes soon shifted from the ground to the king, she admired how much he was able to lead a whole nation on his own, especially having to fill the shoes of his father. King Rowan was not the kindest man towards her even if she may be Noviyn’s daughter, the reason being was her blood which was impure in his eyes. But there was no ill will she harbor in her heart for that man as he had taken good care of her mother, that she was grateful for.

“Well now. I can only remember the last time you both have spoken, it would seem it has been many seasons since you last saw each other. Such reckless children in my memory. What happened?”

Noviyn soon spoke again but this time there was nothing nice in her smile, her venom lips were as poison towards both, without a second thought to it. However, she knew fairly well what had happened, who else would have told such secrets to the king? No one else knew about Beriadanwen’s father other than the woman who birthed her and now, Beriadanwen’s heritage would either die with this new king or be used against her during such a fragile time. Noviyn knew many would kill for a spy within the walls of this palace, especially one whose place was never known and someone easily swayed. Would a mother sell her own daughter to the enemies? Many would not but many weren't as devious as Noviyn would be.

To drive her ambition to the top, Noviyn needed something or someone, and since she had a daughter that was easily manipulated by any means, she was determined to use such innocence as a pawn. But something soon stood in her way, a friendship that was never meant to happen, one that soon put her plans to a standstill for many years. So, she took the risk and cried to King Rowan with tears made of water, pleading forgiveness and to have mercy towards them both, her sin to be a human and to spawn such a creature into their lands. And the former king believed every word, pushing him to separate the children from each other while Noviyn groomed Beriadanwen silently in the background.

“What a shame for such spirited children to grow apart, the Gods must not be favoring such friendship and neither does your father. However, such has turned my daughter into a hermit and a brute of some sort, I wondered where I went wrong. I have given her all my love.”

The older woman said nonchalantly as she now turned on her heel and made her way out through the doors she had came through earlier. Her eyes watching Beriadanwen carefully, seeing the slight resentment in her daughter’s bright green eyes that made her sick.

“Alas, I must take my leave. I have...plans to see too.”

Was the last words Noviyn said to the two before disappearing, leaving Beriadanwen behind.

Beriadanwen now unsure what to do with herself, was she to also leave or was she to stay. She wasn’t sure if she was dismissed or even wanted around. Her hands tucked behind her back while Messiah gave a soft purr as the air seemed to have elevated when Noviyn had left.

“Please do not hold my mother accountable for her words, I don’t think she means any harm. She is not as terrible as many have made her out to be.”

The blonde spoke, her voice was soft but they were enough to defend her mother. Why? Why was she defending a woman who she knew would never do the same for her? Noviyn was the only thing closest to a family she had known, the one thing she had to hold on too while the other half of her lingered in the air. To her, her mother was like an anchor, keeping her here instead of running off years ago,

“My condolences about your father and my apology that I haven’t said it sooner. I was stationed in the forest while the mourning of the former king was in process. There wasn’t any time for the scouts to rest when word about humans wanting to attack during a time of weakness.”

She finally looked at him again as she spoke, her genuine words, she hoped was seen as true. She did not wish what actions of her mother’s doing would be painted on her, and she did not want to be seen as her mother.

“I think you have proven yourself to be a king in your own rights. Sometimes we don’t have to be our parents to be seen as something more.”

She tried to give somewhat of encouragement after what her mother had said to him. Something she had been doing for herself having to live with that woman so close by.

“And I only ask for your forgiveness that I wasn’t around when you were crowned. I promised your father I pledge my life to the crown as a scout as repayment for his kindness. I do not wish to go against my own values and words, even if he may not be around any longer.

The many apologies Beriadanwen was now giving, she knew none of it would make up for all the lost time. She felt as if nothing she could do now would mean anything, she regretted her own cowardly actions, she ran from her problems and she avoided what she could not face. But she was much older, a little bit wiser as she had already stack walls around herself before she was left vulnerable.

When Noviyn entered her bedchambers, she made her way straight towards her desk by the window. A drawer that was locked and only accessible with a key that Noviyn wears around her neck daily. A key made of gold, thin but firm with patterns carved into the metal, it was something made specially just for her to keep all her secrets with. The sound of a click was audible after Noviyn had pulled the key off her neck and fitted it into the keyhole, she soon drew open the drawer and pulled out a small vile filled with a purple liquid that glittered under the lights. Clutching the vile in her palms, cold to the touch as the poison is deadly enough to kill anything and anyone who consumes it but also untraceable in their system. A poison that was only craftable in the south, a city where assassins were born and made, the deadly poison of all kinds were specially handcrafted by the best, a city many know as Nyve Alari.

How the woman was able to acquire such poison was a secret she will not say, even her most trusted handmaiden was left in the dark by the woman’s schemes behind the curtains. She placed the empty in the handmaiden’s hand as her eyes narrowed slightly. “Plant this in my daughter’s room. All evidence must lead to her if not, it would be your head to hang. Hurry before she returns to her room.” Noviyn spoke in whispers to Hanna’s ear, the handmaiden looked at Noviyn in the eyes but said nothing more. Hanna nodded and placed the vile in her skirt before leaving Noviyn’s bedchambers, and off again to complete the woman’s request against her own flesh and blood, her only child and daughter.

As she watched Hanna leave her room, Noviyn made her way back to her desk before sitting down on the chair that had a matching design. She picked up a letter that was too hidden in the drawer of secrets, unfolded the beige parchment with words written in bold black ink, handwriting that was recognizable.

“To Noviyn,

It has come to my knowledge that power is what you seek and thirst for, this is such a reason I wrote this letter in hopes it arrives in the correct hands. I hope these words are only for your eyes to read as I am coming to you with a proposition, one where it will benefit both sides and both of us. Just like I, you seek to rise to power and you seek greater things, I admire such ambition in all but there is only one thing standing in our way, the King of Shehodorei. What if I say I could help you sit upon that throne you want and dream off? What if I say with my help, you will achieve your goals faster than you would ever imagine because all you need to do, is to rid Shehodorei of its royal blood. And with no royal blood next in line, the kingdom is forced to choose a new bloodline to succeed the throne, with this I present to you a specialty poison from Nyve Alari, crafted by the master poison himself. Rhulvixin is what I recall the man calling it by, no one will be able to trace it once it is consumed and there will be no cure, as an illness it will hide. Once the king is upon the heaven’s gate, we shall proceed as planned. I shall remain in contact with you once you have sent a white dove that the king is dead.

Ally, King Ellias of Tarthen.”

She read the words written on the parchment again, she had fulfilled one side of the bargain but there was another she needed to finish. King Sheagar was still alive but there was only one way to get him to consume such, she would use someone he had known from his past while she would now need to think of a way to keep her hands clean while watching the new king bleed to his death.
 
He's only a tad bit nervous about the fully grown lion prowling into the meeting room. Messiah had grown well known among those who lived in or near the castle, or those who new Beriadanwen herself. Shaegar had never seen the creature for himself, though-it was much larger than he'd been expecting, with coloring distinct to creatures either touched or bred from magic. The scarlet eyes seemed to flicker like twin jewels in the firelight, though if the animal had the ability to communicate, it seemed to do so only with it's companion, leaving Shaegar in the dark. Not that he minded-it was clear there was a bond between them that he almost envied before dismissing the thought.

"Aren't you part of that guard? If they're running away so easily, you might need to look into it."

It was as if no time had passed for a moment as the corner of Shae's mouth twitched upward into a hinted smile, just for a moment, before his face returned to neutral again. He'd wondered about Beriadanwen's position in the guard before, if that was really what she'd wanted to do. He knew his father had a hand in the assignment, though it was good that she seemed well suited to the task. Even the armor she was wearing seemed to make sense, a firm declaration that she was where she belonged. Shaegar didn't feel he looked that way at all when he was dressed in all his finery, more like a confused child thrown in clothes that didn't fit.

The question of what he wanted to do-what he really wanted-had never really crossed Shaegar's mind, at least not in a while. There had never been a choice. He was born prince, had no siblings, was still unmarried for the time being (though was technically promised to a girl called Evelyn, whom he had never actually met.) He was raised with the expectation that he would ascend to the throne and now, here he was. Still, he couldn't help but feel sometimes as though no one had ever really told him what to do. He didn't feel like a natural leader-he took after his mother's temperament, kind and quiet, a woman whom no one now seemed to really remember or care to think of aside from Shae, with his father having been hasty to forget and the rest of the court soon forgetting the Queen's existence.

Shaegar shrugged one shoulder in response to Noviyn, and without his crown on his head, appeared far more like the observant young man they both likely remembered him to be. "Time's arrow marches on." he responded, not willing to elaborate on his feelings regarding the matter, at least, not in front of Noviyn.

His careful mask wavered for a moment, however, as the sheer venom lacing in Noviyn's expression, and again he thought back to being a youngling, peeking his head around the corner to listen to Rowan and Noviyn discuss himself and Beriadanwen in quiet frustrated tones. Before years of strict training beat the inquisitiveness from him, Shae had been something of a blunt child, and one evening after walking with his playmate back to the chambers where she lived, had peered up at Noviyn with a furrowed brow and asked, rather carefully:

"How come you hate me?"

Of course the question was never really answered, but it replayed again in Shaegar's mind as he watched the woman speak, addressing her daughter with contempt that made him narrow his eyes, hurt rising in his chest on her behalf. "I don't think that's true. Draymont is very pleased with Beriadanwen's service, and he's a difficult man to impress. Why not be proud of that?" But the similarity between Noviyn and Rowan gave Shae the suspicion that Beriadanwen could withdraw from the army, don dresses similar to her mother, and act every bit as nefarious and manipulative, and there would still be something wrong with her in Noviyn's eyes.

He was relieved when the woman took her leave, but the lack of a third party served to make him apprehensive. There was a lot Beriadanwen likely felt slighted by. He could still visibly remember the hurt confusion on her face whenever he'd avoided speaking to her, or ignored her attempts to talk to him, and his chest felt weighted with guilt. Her apologies only worsened the feeling, and he quickly shook his head once she offered her apologies and condolences, all things he really didn't need.

"My father was a....Complicated man. I'm sure you remember." A hollow smile that didn't reach his eyes alighted on Shaegar's face for a moment before it vanished, though the political neutrality he typically sported was also gone. Instead, he appeared a little worried and embarrassed. It had always been a point of contention between Rowan and himself that Shae was very bad at hiding his emotions in front of others, often yelling to shouted rantings about how this fault would certainly lead to Shaegar's death, how he was too trusting, too soft-willed, too eager to please and help. Since then, he had withdrawn further and further from the world-but, there were a few select people he still wasn't good at lying to, and Beriadanwen was one of them.

The coronation-he remembered the whole ceremony as being incredibly miserable. The process was rushed, for one thing, with the councilmen not wanting to appear vulnerable after news of the king's death spread faster than intended. Shaegar, still reeling from his father's passing, had been all but shoved through to the throne, sitting rather dazed and lost upon the twisting oaken seat which had carried elves of legend and virtue. He hadn't looked anything like a confident ruler, and when he'd searched the crowd for the face of his old friend and found no one, he'd felt more alone than ever.

But it hadn't been her fault, and besides, she had no real motivation for coming after he'd scorned her for so long. A quiet sigh left Shaegar as he brought a hand up to scratch at the hair near the nape of his neck, a nervous habit he had sustained from childhood.

"He was the reason I wasn't permitted to see you anymore. It was a very, um..."

He frowned. The sound of shattering glass echoed up from his memory.

"...Complicated situation. But I didn't want to stop talking with you. That's something I'd like for you to know, even if things are different now. And I know that must have caused some pain and confusion, so I'd like to apologize to you for that."

Shae nodded once, as though to himself, after the explanation seemed to come out alright. He was still avoiding looking at her, however.
 
Shehodorei​


Beriadanwen hid her small smile from the kind words given by Shaegar to her mother, and he was right to think that even if she was dressed in all the finery in the world, her mother would still find something wrong with her. Nothing she did seemed to impress the woman regardless, so she eventually stopped trying. Messiah was just as curious about Sheagar as the King was to him, he never got the chance to see or meet the man before, but he has heard about Sheagar from Beriadanwen when asked about her childhood. She was a happy child once but when Shaegar started to avoid her, making it so she had never existed, it hurt her. She never knew what she had done so wrong but she as to all, never once held it against him, all she could do then and now was to watch from the side as the space between them grew bigger as time passes.

Surprised to hear that it was not by choice that Shaegar had avoided her all those years, but she understood why; it was not her place to be in his life and it wasn’t his to be in hers. She understood the difficulty of pleasing and living with one who will never see them as anything more than burdensome, and it was the one reason she remained as his friend as a child. She was lonely and she longed for the company and when she did find that him, even may the sun shined on them momentarily, she knew what having someone who understood her without having words to express so felt like. Beriadanwen even now was not the best as using her words to convey her feelings, she could speak of one thing but meant something else entirely. This has put her in many difficult and frustrating situations, and of course, she did what she would always do best, she ran away from her problems.

Yet, she missed her childhood and looking at Shaegar now allowed her the luxury of nostalgia to run through her mind. A kind smile spread across her face, she knew he was nervous by the way he moved and from how his body language is, it reminded her of the young boy she spent most of her time with before. And a smile she hoped would allow him to understand that she may have grown into a woman but she would always be the same person regardless.

“I do not blame you, I don’t blame anyone. It was only a matter of time that we had to go our own way in the end. You have your duties to fulfill and I have mine, sooner rather than later.”

She spoke, her tone gentle but there was an underlying despondent feeling in her words. Staying in Shehodorei for her mother was only partially a truth to her reason, she remained in this land as she held onto her old memories of her past. She remained for the hope to finally understand why and what happened between them, and now she knew.

“But thank you for letting me know. All this time I thought...it was I that have done something to have wronged you. Your apology is not needed, a king should never apologies to those below him.”

She nodded as she appreciated his amendments. Though her smile dropped after as she was left standing there, wondering. What now? She did not know where she stood in regard to him, she didn’t know if she should say anymore. But soon, the smile returned to her face as she thought about a memory that would help ease the nervous tension between them.

“I’m surprised that the crown is able to fit that big head of yours. I remember a boy thinking he could climb trees better than I could.”

A chuckle was audible in her voice as Messiah whined slightly as he now laid down on the marble flooring beside Beriadanwen. Yet his eyes never leaving Shaegar; Messiah was one who kept strangers away from the two of them, though lions are known to be territorial in the wild, even a domesticated animal such as him, there was still a primal instinct within him. He ensured with the best of his ability that Beriadanwen was safe from harm, it was the least he could do when she had taken care of him since finding him lost in the forest as a cub.

However, their conversation was cut short when Feledor walked into the room, an elven man centuries ahead of them. One who had served the two kings before Shaegar, yet he had not aged a day since. Dirty blonde hair and glowing yellow eyes, tall in stature as well lean with muscles. He was the head of the royal scout, one of the many general’s of the royal army as he was dressed similar to Beriadanwen but only with more red than beige.

“Who has a big head?”

The man spoke with humor in his voice, as he peered towards all three beings in the room. Messiah quickly stood up from where he laid and sniffed around the man hoping to find food as he usually does.

“Sorry Messiah, I don’t have leftovers for you today. As I came here for official business but...huh..I have never seen the two of you in the same room for a long while.”

Feledor said with a smile before giving the black lion a small pat behind the ears as he turned to look at Beriadanwen. He had always been nice and kind towards this female despite the rumors he had heard surrounding her and despite the resentment, he held for Noviyn.

“I do recall having sent you out to map the terrain outside the clearing of our borders? I’m surprised I haven’t received the maps yet.”

The general said with narrowed eyes which made Beriadanwen nervous.

“Yes, sorry but I was hoping to leave tonight. It would be safer while the humans take their rest for the day.”

She spoke, reasoning with the man as she knew the dangers beyond the clearing. There was no saying what might happen to her beyond their borders as she stepped foot into enemy territory. Death was certain of course but at the same time, she knew she must if it would help Shehodorei claim victory during the war.

“I understand your concerns and I trust your judgment. Your mother’s...not so much.”

Feledor said with a smile before turning to the king who was his primary reason to be here.

“Forgive me, your majesty, for my absence during the meeting. There were some concerns that needed my attention but I have been briefed about what your plans are towards Tarthen by General Draymont. To march in with a whole army just to speak with King Ellias wouldn’t be wise, that would only be seen as a statement of power rather than coming to an understanding but with King Ellias reputation, I doubt you would get far with that one. I propose before your majesty rides out of the safety of borders, we would send our scouts instead beforehand? To survey the stronghold they call a castle? We only want the upmost safety for our King, since you do not have an heir to the thrown. We can not risk your life before that, which I think I will leave it to your advisors to explain such matters to you.”

The general said as he stood slightly forward from Beriadanwen. The golden blonde woman remained silent as her green eyes now looked towards Sheagar, was he really planning to meet with the humans? Though she had never once doubted his ability in combat but was only concerned as he had never met with war in the front lines as she had before. It wasn’t as it was in the books, it was bloody and murderous, something that would change a person for good. It was something Beriadanwen had to understand in her position, that she might never come back alive and if she does make it through this war, she wasn’t entirely sure she would be able to sleep peacefully at night with all the life she was forced to take. Even now, as her arrows found itself buried in the hearts of her enemies, it was still never an easy task to hold.
 
He wasn't altogether sure how he should be acting around her at the moment-years ago it had come as easily as breathing, lightly making fun of her here and there and dragging the both of them into trouble. Now, though, the difference in status was impossible to ignore-it was as she'd said, she was technically beneath him, even if his brow furrowed once that was spoken aloud. He saw only a difference in birth between the two of them-he had been berated too many times to think of himself as anything particularly divine, and lacked the self-assurance that Rowan had possessed in life. In many ways, Beriadanwen had actually accomplished more than he did-she had maintained her rank, m performed her duties exceptionally well. He felt as though he were merely stumbling through his own.

There was a beat of silence wherein he felt both sad and relieved all at the same time-received that there still seemed to be that foundation of companionship between the two of them, and sad that things could never really return to the way they had been before. All the same, his eyes glinted in mischief when she pointed out how much he'd used to brag and dare as a child. "Was he wrong, though?" Shae pointed out, a light note of humor in his voice likely for the first time in many months at least.

A third voice joined them, turning the king's attention to the doorway to reveal none other than General Feledor, whom Shaegar had no objections at all about seeing. Of the individuals under his command, Feledor was one of those who's opinion he most valued. The elf had served many times his own lifespan, and had seen several trials and tribulations. Beyond that, he was a kind individual, who didn't attempt to talk down to Shaegar due to his age or lack of experience. "It's no trouble, general. We were only talking," he assured.

Actually, Feledor was someone he wouldn't mind seeing at all. Getting through the meeting without him had proven difficult, with everyone else almost exclusively on the offense, and Shae still remaining hesitant, but uncertain what a middle ground might be. His attention remained on the elder man, listening attentively to his explanation. He was right-Sheagar's plan was too rash, and he wasn't making proper reservation for his own safety. Beyond that, strolling into Tarthen was practically begging for either an invasion or an attack. He'd mostly just wanted the meeting to be over when he made that plan.

"You're right. I was second-guessing the idea as soon as everyone left the room," Shae admitted with a somewhat sheepish expression. "It would be better to wait until we have a better idea on what Ellias's intentions are. I know he's somewhat impulsive-even for a human," he added dryly, "But it seems unlike him to pick a fight so openly, and without any real reason. Why don't you send who you would see fit, and give me a full report when they return? In the meantime, we'll bolster defenses here." What else was there to do? Oh, right...His stomach sank as he recounted the next expected event following his coronation. Evelyn and her father were likely awaiting word from him about the furtherance of their marriage. Could he procrastinate and use the conflict with Tarthen as an excuse? He certainly hoped so.

Of course, unbeknownst to Shaegar, far more treacherous things were at work than arranged courtships.

Ekserma Desert​

He'd spent probably the last three hours throwing up.

The man stood doubled over the rail of the ship, limbs still trembling from the last bout of sickness. The putrid taste of bile still lingered in his mouth even as he wiped it with the back of one hand, fixing the horizon with a glare which suggested a deeply personal hatred. The oceans which bordered the East and the desert were vast. Today, the sun was beating down mercilessly, dying the water a brilliant shade of turquoise-green. The sky, likewise, was a deep blue, not a cloud in sight as the white sunlight threw everything into vibrant color.

Asher hated all of it.

Traveling by boat was a sure-fire way to make sure he felt miserable for the entire duration of the trip. Sure, there were worse ways to go-he'd done a few of them, whether it was sneaking onto a hay cart or even once hiding in a shipment of wine (probably the best of the three.) But boats? They just weren't meant to carry men, or at least, not men like him.

"Chin up, Ash." The smug voice that came from his left only earned a groan in response, making the speaker laugh and clap a hand on his shoulder. "Only three more days to go. Think about the wine."

"I don't want to think about wine right now," he responded, running a hand back through short blonde hair. "I feel sick."

"Think about the women, then."

That, at least, got the sellsword's attention. He lifted his head at last, blue eyes taking on a sort of far-off, dreamy look. The women of Alari had several songs written about them, and the potential for the occasional brothel or two had caught Asher's momentary attention. "I can do that."

"You're as predictable as ever." His companion was a fellow a few goos years older than himself, hair beginning to go silver near his temples. The rest was long and black, resting over his shoulders. "We aren't even meant to go to the city, you dumb bastard. Just where the dragon-folk are, and then we turn around and head back with them in tow. Crown's orders."

The prospect of a return trip seemed to sap Asher's spirits, and he rested his face in his hands. "Fuck the crown. Maybe I'll just move to one of the cities out here."

"No gold if you do that, lad."

A heavy sigh left him. There was the rub.

However, the last lingering nausea seemed to have lifted, and Asher drew himself up to his full height, about a head taller than his companion. The leather armor he sported looked a tad worse for wear, covered in scratches and looking as though it had been assembled at random rather than a full set. In fact, the only thing abut Asher that didn't seem disheveled was his beard, cut short and neat. "How much were we promised again?"

"Full five-thousand now, five more when we get back. Triple that if we go hack up a few pointy-ears later on."

Asher hummed in thought. The conflict with the Blood-Elves seemed to have been going on since he was a baby, but he hadn't seen it this intense before. It made him wonder what King Elias was going to do with the land once he'd taken it, for that was obviously his intention. "As long as I'm paid, I'm happy. I'm a simple man. I really am."

He wasn't exactly. In fact, he was dreading the day when the actual invasion took place. If it was just other soldiers, there was no problem, but if they were expected to go further along into the village and start carving up women or children...

He dismissed the thought for the time being. No telling whether it would go that far. At least not yet.
 
Shehodorei​

Hanna made her way around the halls unseen, she knew the ins and outs of each passageway of the palace as having been doing Noviyn’s dirty work for many centuries now. She knew which halls to take where many would avoid, she knew how to weave her way unseen and when she arrived at the plain doors of Beriadanwen’s room. She pushed the door open slightly and quietly, checking to see if anyone inside but it was as empty as her soul was. Hanna squeezed her way through the doors before shutting it behind her, she looked around the room, bare and dull, just as she thought Beriadanwen to be. Yet, this unwanted child had a better room than she did, as she was forced to share a room with many others at once but it was the way the world worked. Those who did not deserve such gets many things and those who had worked all their lives for the royal family were left with the crumbs.

The only reason Hanna had held much bitterness towards Noviyn’s daughter was the fact that jealousy seemed to have clawed its way into the woman. She made her way towards the pile of books which Beriadanwen had collected over the years, her yellow eyes rolled and she gave a snort. Books? Why does she need books? It was only a waste of time, no wonder there were no suitors for her. Hanna thought as she picked up one of the leather-bound books in her hand, flipping through the pages before tossing the book on the rugged bed.

“Waste of time”

Was all the woman said before proceeding to do what she had come here to do. Hanna looked around, finding the best place to plant the poison but she settled to place the small vial behind a pot of roses that rested on top of the fireplace. Once the deed was done, she took her to leave making her way back to Noviyn’s bedchambers.

Beriadanwen only stayed silent when the two men converse, one hand rested on the nape of Messiah’s neck, finger buried between the soft silky black mane of his. The small memory they shared before Feledor entered, it was content even if it was only a brief moment.

“Yes, your majesty. I shall send out the scouts we have on hand and as soon as I receive word, we may start preparing for war. You are right, King Elias is an impulsive man but do not underestimate the humans. They may the weaker of races in Torailin but they have will that comes in greater of forces. And Beriadanwen, I would hate to impose such a task on you on top of another, but since you’re already mapping the terrains for us, I do hope you would be able to give us word on their forces?”

Feledor said as his eyes now fell on the female. Beriadanwen only nodded as she was in no place to decline an assignment from her superior, but the idea of roaming closer towards the gates of Tarthen was nerve-wracking. She had been out from the forest clearing, but never that close to the human kingdom before. She had heard many stories about the iron fortress that Tarthen had built surrounding their borders, the stories about King Elias and how ruthless he may be to acquire power. But she did not see all humans to be as such, she knew there were human kingdoms further away who are also opposed to Tarthen’s wrath and reign.

“Yes, Sir.”

Beriadanwen said as she turned away from Messiah and back towards the two males.

“Thank you kindly. And I hear a noble lady and her father from Enfedell had arrived two nights ago from the north. Snow elves, I hear, and noble beings they are and I give you my most congratulations to you and your betrothed, Lady Evelyn. And one last thing, your majesty, may I suggest an alliance with another kingdom to strengthen our forces?”

Feledor said before bowing his head towards the King, he excused himself before patting Messiah one last time before exiting the room. There were many preparations that needed to be done before Beriadanwen would be sent out tonight. Beriadanwen must have been avoiding the palace for too long as the news of Shaegar being betrothed to another was news to her, it really has been a long time, hasn’t it? Words she wanted to speak out but it was words she only kept within her mind. And when Feledor left, she smiled at him before opening her mouth to speak.
“If I may be excused, I need to prepare before riding out tonight. It is really nice to finally see you again, to speak to you again, your majesty. Congratulations.”
It was all she could say before turning on her heels and making her way out of the door, she held the smile till the door closed behind her. Once more, their path led them to different lives, one that she would have to eventually have to decide what she wanted for herself. Her footsteps echoed through the halls, her chest felt heavy but her face was stoic as it usually was, but there was internal conflict within herself she did not understand.

“Your silence will get you nowhere but an early grave.”

Messiah said as he walked closely beside her. Beriadanwen had no response for the lion but she knew he was right, the many years of staying silent did nothing good for her, especially with her mother.

As the two walked in silence, the passed another who was dressed all in white, the dress that this woman was wearing was made for the blizzarding cold, thick woolen dress with wolves fur trimming and lining, the dress was embroidered with a pale blue shaped in snowflakes. The woman had hair of silvery ice, eyes blue like the frosted waters of the north, and skin so pale it watched the fallen snow. Her ears, however, were not as long and pointed directly upwards, it was far shorter and angled backward, she looked as fragile as the snow was but her icy glare as she passed Beriadanwen in the hall was as sharp as the deadly icicles of the north.

Beriadanwen knew this woman was not of the Blood Elven kin, this woman was a Snow Elf and she was far from him. The woman’s hair reminded her of her mother’s but could this be the noble lady Feledor spoke off? The Snow Elf that was betrothed to Sheagar? As they passed each other, Beriadanwen made way for the woman with a small smile of kindness and Evelyn did the same in return. Both women nodded to each other as a greeting before parting ways in the opposite direction.

“Who was that?”

Messiah questioned as they were far enough to not be heard. Beriadanwen head turned slightly, she could see the woman’s hair waving around as she walked, she was a beautiful elven woman, she thought.

“That is what a Snow Elf is.”

Beriadanwen said as she turned away from the woman. She only hoped Shaegar would be able to find happiness or what he is looking for, and she would be happy for the elven man either way.
Noviyn upon hearing Hanna had done what she had told the handmaiden to do, now made her way looking for General Draymont. She knew the man to be rigid in his ways but she also needed his help into framing her own daughter, but of course, she would leave him oblivious to her plans. All she needed was for the General to conduct a search in her daughter’s room with the belief that Beriadanwen was a spy for the humans. Betraying her own kin for glory and coin, wanting to poison the king with her own hands. A smile curved into Noviyn’s lips as the treacherous woman was already slithering her way into the crown seat unnoticed. This war to her only served as a distraction as she did not care what the humans do, as she wanted was power and to rule a Kingdom in her name.

Ekserma Desert
​
Lilium sat on the land where nothing grew, no grass or anything that was green would flourish in such conditions. The sand she walked on was not smooth and fluid as most desert land would have, it was coarse and dry, having a burnt orange tint that matched the scorching hot sun that beat down upon her olive tan skin, casting a soft rich golden glow upon the highest points of her face. Her deep brown eyes watching a monstrous beast roamed the skies above her. It’s leathery wings spread wide and grand as it soared so effortlessly through the air, its scales like her skin, a bronze color that shifted to gold under the light. Four horns on its head, two large one coiling backward and two smaller one stickling forward, yet all four were sharp enough to pierce through armor and flesh. Its tail was strong and could easily take down a building with one swing, and easily pushing back a few army men back.

The two have been out hunting for food to bring back to their camp as it was their turn to ensure the people would not starve in the desert. Lilium stood up from where she sat, she was getting impatient as it had been hours and they still found nothing. What a shame another horse shall be slaughtered for food again, Lilium thought as she whistled for her dragon to descend from the air. As the beast now landed obediently in front of her, it flapped its wings playfully for a moment, pushing her stark white hair back, exposing her neck. Her clothing was fit for such a climate, thin linens but ragged from the wear and tear of riding her dragon, the boiled leather served as armor that covered what was needed but the women of the south never wore clothes like the rest of the world did. The sun did not permit such unless one wished to die from a heat stroke, their clothing even with the men was minimal, allowing full mobility when facing an opponent, and allowing their bodies to cool off from the searing heat.

However, it was not to say that the southern people were not fashionable as it would only be in the two major cities that many would see the true colors of the south. Lilium was not one of the city folks but ones that roamed the outskirts of the city walls, many would call them nomads, always moving and never always in one place. These people were evolved from their ancestry line of the humankind, their blood tainted with the voodoo magic, increasing their fortitude towards the harsh conditions they were living in. Yet, with the danger of the wild as beast and monsters also roamed freely in Ekserma Desert, the people were happy with what they have. A community that they call a family, they protected each other and even if they not be related by blood.
It was not only that the nomads were a more advance human gene, were able to form a bond between their kind and the dragons. Many generations back, these people were left with capturing the dragons themselves, a dangerous task but a rewarding one as well. It was then they learned that fusing their blood with the help of voodoo, was able to allow a wild creature like a dragon to submit towards a master but as years went on, such task of capture lead to many lives lost. So, the elders decided that breeding those already in their possession would allow such a daunting task to be eased into their culture. Since then, the use of voodoo turned into black magic, helping each egg to hatch without the extreme heat of molten lava, it was also how these people became resistant to their bonded dragon’s breath, may it be fire, poison or whichever the dragon powers may be.

Lilium smiled at her own dragon, one where she recalled hatched right out of its egg in front of her and with such, she took it as a sign that they were meant to have met. She lifted her hand slowly toward the dragon’s snout, Lilium knew that even if this beast was hatched within their camp, dragons are still unpredictable in their temperament. Anything could set this beast off and it was then no one knew if it was going to turn against its master or not but today, it was happy or so it wanted Lilium to know. It pressed its scaly nose against the woman’s hand gently, its nostrils flared out and the smell of cyanide filled the air around them, deadly as this dragon spat poison.

“That’s a good girl. Time to return home, Issoth.”

Lilium said with a deep southern accent. Issoth dipped her head low, allowing Lilium to mount her before taking off into the skies again. Looking for where the camp was set for the day, but Lilium was in no rush as she knew her many siblings would be able to keep her father busy while she was away. Lilium was the child to her father’s third wife, the thirteen born of all five wives her father had at once but to her and to her father, they were all of the equal statuses, neither was a step higher or lower. And all lived in harmony raising dragon riders of the wild, her home life was far from boring, it was always loud and hectic, her sibling all cried and screamed for their own causes, and as they grew older, their light banters turned into sparring matches. Quiet and alone times such as these were something Lilium would only get once every two weeks, and it was the one thing that she looked forward too where she could finally hear her own thoughts.
 
Shae's expression sobered into thoughtfulness, his mind drifting to his history lessons. As tedious as they had been, it had not gone unnoticed by him how bloody the human kingdom's history was. They could be bloodthirsty when provoked, but then, so could his own people. So could the Snow Folk. So could the Desert Dwellers. If there was one lesson to be learned by history, it was that the potential for cruelty rested in every single person, whether or not they realized it. Shaegar tried to keep this thought balanced with the fact that the potential for vast kindness rested there as well. "I'll be relying on your experience for this, Feledor. Thank you." Perhaps too humble for someone of his standing, but Shaegar didn't particularly care. He had not the experience to refuse advice in such a delicate time, and he certainly trusted the man to see their people through this.

Grateful as he was for Feledor, he wasn't particularly grateful for the news he brought up next, and his stomach flipped at the mention of their new guest's arrival. So soon, and unannounced at that? Or had there been word sent and he'd simply been too distracted by everything else? Hoping his face didn't look as hot as it felt, Shae nodded, glance flickering back down. "Of course. I'll see to it that they're both comfortable, and get an audience with me soon. Thank you."

If looking directly at Beriadanwen was difficult before, it was almost impossible now.

But still, as the young soldier turned to leave, Shae was quick to look over at her again, halting her with a quick word. "Dan?" Unbidden, his old nickname for her slipped out through sheer force of habit, the shortened version owing to the fact that her full name had been difficult for him to pronounce when they had first met.

For a moment, there were several things he wanted to say, none of which seemed suitable for the moment. 'I'm sorry? 'I missed you?' 'Stay here?'

"...Be careful."

With a curt nod, she and the lion who followed her was gone, and he was alone once again.

His mind was running quickly with the amount of things that were occurring within just the past few hours. If Evelyn and her company had been here for two nights already without recognition from him, he hoped they wouldn't think he was purposefully trying to offend them. He would need to talk with them soon, even if he was flooded with nervousness at the prospect. He'd been more or less engaged to the snow elf since birth, with Rowan being keen to unite their respective kingdoms in such away. It was a clever strategic move. Though their kingdoms were relatively far, their similar heritage already placed them in common interest, and if Ellias truly did mean to attack, it would help to solidify that agreement between them.

He wasn't too sure how he felt about it yet, but that didn't matter. There were more important things.

Still, part of him wished he could have told Beriadanwen about it himself.

*****

To say that Draymont was restless was an understatement.

Since the meeting had been adjourned, he'd spent the past hour or so training outside with his broadsword. The weapon was not exactly traditional for the elvish, but he had grown to rely on the heavy weight of the blade, the power which rested in the thickness of the iron. He could fight reasonably well with the slender, curved swords his soldiers typically used, but he'd grown used to the broadsword over time, so that he now felt odd without it.

He lifted a cloth to his face in order to mop up the sweat from his brow. His joints were beginning to ache, signifying his older age. He was physically fit and would insist so to anyone who was interested, but he had been in service for a very long time, long before their current king was so much as conceived.

His thick brow furrowed at the thought of their young leader. Shaegar was a kind man-too kind for his own good, Draymont feared. He seemed to be operating under the assumption that the other monarchs would follow the same moral code he was blessed with, and the General knew this was not the case in the slightest. He had a naturally protective instinct towards the king, and this defensiveness only grew in the wake of the attack on their land.

Ekserma Desert​
When his feet finally touched the blessed ground, Asher nearly toppled over in relief. The sands didn't provide particularly steady ground for him to keep his balance on, and for another thing, he had grown so used to the rocking motion of the ship that unmoving Earth came as a slight shock. He could hear his mentor, Jasper, laughing at him from behind. Still, Asher was quick to steady himself, taking a quick swig of fire-water from his flask as he surveyed the land. The alcohol shot a pleasant burn in his chest, waking him up and hopefully burning away the last of his sea-sickness.

The desert was all that was visible, aside from the shore-from every direction, sand seemed to stretch out endlessly. It was as though they had crossed one ocean only to end up in another. His boots sank down almost to his calves in the dunes as he attempted a few careful steps. The sun was even hotter out here.

"I don't supposed it occurred to his Majesty to give us enough water for this?" Asher called back as the boat captain as well as the small messenger party stepped down from the boat and on to dry land. The captain, already dressed suitable for the weather, nodded.

"We do, but only as much as we'll be able to carry there. The rest, we may have to leave behind."

"Good," Asher replied with a roll of his eyes. "Free supplies to the bandits."

A sudden chill overtook him, so totally unexpected that he nearly jumped. A shadow was blocking the sun, turning everything momentarily black.

For a moment, Asher felt his pulse thud in his chest, and he wondered if the myths about the anger of the spirits had some merit to them after all, but it became clear that this was no supernatural doing-at least, not exactly. The black shape overhead appeared like some misshapen bird until he got a better look at the beast. If they were already close enough to be able to see the dragons overhead, maybe there was nothing to worry about at all.
 
Shehodorei​

Beriadanwen made it back to her room, the dim dark room that was her solitude and only comfort in this palace, but even now the walls that gave her comfort were cold. Physically, Beriadanwen could feel it, a chill running up her spine, her skin flushed with goosebumps and the quiet was haunting. Dan, for so long, she never imagined hearing that name uttered by the lips of anyone, a name that was given to her years ago. One that used to irritate her as she did not understand why it was so hard to pronounce a simple name, yet, as he said it, a heavy feeling remained in her heart. She wanted to say more but her words would either mean nothing or change many things and as Messiah said earlier, her silence would be an early grave.

No, I can not dwell on the past. I have no time, I need to focus, war is upon our gates. She recentered her focus as she always does. She made a promise to King Rowen and she would keep it at best of her ability or till she died. One way or another, she wasn’t going to let anything distract her, for now at least. Beriadanwen changed into heavier armor, one where she wore to multiple attacks from the humans, the black metal still had a luster of shine but the wear and tear of scratches and dents told a story of how she fended off the humans away from her homeland. The armor needed a polish but she thought that could wait till later, it was light but as most armors made for the Blood Elves, it was form-fitting and felt like a feather. Yet it was hard enough to receive blows against swords and arrows during a battle; dorn in black and red, the colors belonging to the Blood Elven kin, Beriadanwen braided her golden blonde hair tightly and neatly away from her face. This was going to be a long journey, a daunting one as she was to go alone, though she never really minded as Messiah would always be at her side.

Once she fastens the breast plat to herself and pulled her black boots on, she reached for her bow and quiver of arrows. A dagger that once belonged to her father, the blade was black just as her armor was and the handle made of gold. Sharpen and seethed into her right boot, Beriadanwen never left her room without it as it was the one thing her mother gave her of her father. She recalled a time when she was only seventeen, she had begged her mother to tell her anything about her father, a young child hunger to know who she was, no is. But Noviyn said nothing, she gave the girl no inclination of who this man was to them both, only a dagger that in hopes to keep her child quiet for years to come.

The dagger had served Beriadanwen well during close combat, it was a quick and easy weapon to pull out, to keep her enemies at bay before allowing herself to put distance between the two. She was more of a ranged soldier but she too was trained in the art of the sword. She slung the bow across her shoulder and strapped the quiver of arrows to her back before leaving her room, was she to say goodbye to her mother? No, she did not wish to see her mother for a while and this assignment gave her such a wish, Shaegar? She didn’t think it would have mattered, so she went straight for the stables with Messiah in tow.

“Are we leaving this early? I thought you said nightfall?”

Messiah questioned as to his voice echoing in Beriadanwen’s head.

“Yes I did say nightfall but, I do not want to be here.”

She admitted, her voice was soft but there was something about it that made Messiah understood why she wanted to leave so soon. He may not walk on two feet or is able to speak to the others, but he could hear them and understand the emotions around him. Especially one that he had seen countless times from Beriadanwen, a woman who kept it all in till the point it boiled over.

“Yes, okay. I’m assuming we won't be returning so soon?”

The black lion asked and he only received a nod from the woman.

When they both arrived at the stables, the smell of animal droppings and dry hay-filled their nose, many of the horsed started to shriek when Messiah entered as the lion always has given an aura of peril towards other animals around him. Beriadanwen wanting nothing more than to quickly retrieve her own mare as she did not want to send one of these horses into a shock with Messiah looming around. She pulled the gates open that kept a brown horse with white spots, its long hair brushed to shine while it was the only one to be rather calm around Messiah. The mare was used to having the lion beside it, riding miles around the forest they live in together, seeing both the good and bad with Beriadanwen on its back. The woman mounted her horse before riding out of the stables towards the city gates that were opened for her, but before she passed through them, her head turned toward the palace. Her green eyes looking it over, a dour expressed crossed her face before turning away, ridding of towards the gates.

Noviyn had been standing at the corner watching the General trained himself for the last, hundredth time? She didn’t think a made of his experience would need more practice but what did she know, she wasn’t one to play with weapons. As she saw he was done, she made her presence known, she gracefully made her way towards him, her lips curved into the smile of hers and her mirror eyes now watching him with interest.

“A war befalls upon us and it sends all our Generals to question their ability and skill?”

She spoke openly as she was now standing in front of the man, her eyes moving over from his face to the broad sword he held in his hand, not a traditional weapon but it was impressive neither the less.

“I did not know the Blood Elves we know for strength but that is not why I am here. I have concerns in regards to our young king. I would hate to see something ever happen to him, I have always seen the boy as my child.”

She eased her way into the conversation effortlessly, something this woman was gifted with, words.

“I heard talks of assassination? I fear there may be a spy amongst your ranks, to bare the thought of someone who would betray the crown, and to keep silent? I would only blame myself if anything were to happen to the king. King Rowen will not forgive me.”

Noviyn dropped her voice to a tone that depicted her “sorrows” for the late king, she was even able to force tears out of her eyes, like a river under the moonlight, her silvery eyes glowed.

“General Draymont, you must see that the king is safe. I would check all your soldiers that worked closely with the king to be sure. I am but only a concerned mother.”

She said as he crocodile tears became sobs of lies and deceit. The woman was dressed in full red, her hair straight and fell against her back like a waterfall, palest blonde with a halo shine, for such a woman, she knew how to play the part of an angel.

Evelyn was exploring the palace that she was soon to call home, all her life that she could remember was being promised to another she had yet to meet. Promised to be crowned queen of a kingdom, something all noblewomen dreamed of. And since then, she was groomed and taught how to behave and act like a queen, she taught everything there is to know to charm her way into court, from her speech, to her knowledge, and to her talents in music. It was all she ever learned as a child, her manners are always prim and proper, she wore clothes of fine linen, her hair never was out of place.

All those years of wasted childhood, here she was, finally. Something she always imagined her new home to be like, grand and fit for those of royal blood but there was something else that seemed to have struck her as different from her own culture back in Enfedell. She had noticed that the Blood Elven woman took up arms alongside their male counterparts, it was baffling to her pale blue eyes, never has she thought women would serve as a frontman in the army. In Enfedell, it was preposterous as the women were only given skills of healing magic, and with the golden blonde she had passed in the halls earlier today, she noticed the armor she wore. Such a strange culture the Blood Elves have, she remembered the vivid green eyes that caught her own, but she did not think much of the woman as she did not seem to be one of the noblewomen at court, she wasn’t dressed for it.

As she took her stroll in the halls, she had come to an open door. The Snow Elf was curious to know what laid within this room but to her surprise, she found the king, someone she was to marry but never seen before. She peeked around the corners and he was alone, no one in sight as she gave the wooden door a small knock with her delicate knuckles.

“Your Majesty? Pardon my intrusion and my brash behavior but I could not help but to want to know who I am to call my husband in the future. Evelyn, of the noble house of Harparis. I was told many years ago about you but never truly knowing who you are.”

She spoke, her voice was clear and she spoke with confidence in her tone, she stood by the door as her eyes now wondered at the interior of the room. She was supposed to meet with the king later today with her father but what better time to get to know the man now beforehand. This is what her parents had prepared her for, this was what she had been dreaming about, to be called a queen and to be treated like one. It was the one goal in her life, it was force-fed to her since and it had become her only purpose.

“It is finally nice to meet you.”

She spoke kindly as there was genuine curiosity in her eyes about Sheagar. As she walked, her dress flowed like snow, even the woman seemed to be soft as the fall falling on land, but her presence was always noted as she entered the room.

“I have never seen women in armor before till I came here, it is all very new. I saw one of your soldiers earlier today, and it still shocked me to how the Blood Elven women were so strong in battle and in will. Maybe I could learn a thing or two from them, something different than what I’ve known in my life.”

She tried to start a conversation, not wanting to have an awkward start to whatever it was that their parents agreed on long ago. Her eyes now fall on Shaegar with a genteel smile, she looked the man from head to toe, handsome he was with his dark and eyes, something unusual. Her hand folded neatly in front of her dress as she stood in an erected position.

“I am sorry, but should I leave? Have I come in at bad timing, your majesty?”

She questioned as her eyes never leaving his dark ones.


Ekserma Desert​

Up in the air, Lilium was able to get a full view of the desert below, the wind roaring in her ears and the pressed up to her face. Her brown eyes looking for a campsite but only to find something else instead, new travelers? She watched them from above as Issoth circles them. She had seen many ships dock upon the desert land, many wanting to find safe passage to either one of the two cities. But docking at the desert itself was unsafe as there was no saying what might attack at any given moment.

“Land there”

She told her dragon and it obeyed. It lowered itself from the sky but never fully landing, Lilium slid off from to its tail and landing on her feet not too far from the group of sailors that have just arrived. Though many had come to see the city of Nasaisir or Nyve Alari, many also had come to hunt their dragons. To bask in the glory for slaying a beast known to many as Kings of the Skies, to rip each dragon apart to be sold for heavy coins. From their horns to their scales and even their blood but many would pay half a kingdom to acquire a dragon heart, an organ from the creature that held strange magical properties.

It was left to only the nomadic people to care for the creatures as the cities only find them as a nuisance to their economy. Such beast only scare away prospect patrons that allowed these two cities to flourish in riches and gold, the woman openly sold their beauty to men from different lands, the brothels like no other and there was something for everyone’s needs. Inviting and alluring, emptying the pockets of travelers if not by coitus actions, it was by trade. The city folks were comfortable within their walls, away from open desert lands where the “savages” roamed.

It was these “savages” that ensured that the dragon race was surviving, they made sure there were enough eggs to hatch each year but with the many slaughtering of these creatures, their breeding rate have decreased significantly over the years. From ten eggs a year, the were now only able to hatch, if they were lucky, 3 eggs. And Lilium, just like her family fiercely protect these wildlife beings, she wanted to make sure their traditions would pass down to many generations to come before it becomes a myth in stories told to children. She made her way towards the men with a furrowed brow, she did not fear their armor or weapons as she had a glaive with her in her left hand. And when she was now within their circle, she stood there silently judging them all with narrowed eyes silently. She studied each of their faces carefully as her frown had not dropped, she stood smaller than most of them as she was only 5’7, her white hair blowing back away from her shoulders when Issoth landed suddenly behind them. The dragon now blocking the men from the ship as it screeched loudly, baring its teeth while greenish liquid started to drip from its jaw.

“Why have you come?”

The white-haired woman spoke roughly, her words direct and asking for an answer in return.

“You could have sailed straight for either city but you chose to stop here, and there were only two things that men of your kind stop in Ekserma Desert. Asking for death or looking for a hunt.”

Lilium said as she now made her way closer to them, her glaive now leveled but she would not attack till she knew what they wanted. The dragon raiders were known to not be the most hospitable people wondering in the south, they were rough and vicious as dragons can be, their blades cutting open flesh like it was a sport and to them, raiding and pillaging other campgrounds not their own was a common pastime.
 
Shaegar was blessed with a few moments of quiet once Beriadanwen took her leave, and he began pacing in a straight line back and forth to try and clear his head. His thoughts tended to get jumbled together at times, and he wanted to take the opportunity to lay them out straight and proper, look at each problem individually and rank them from most pressing to least concerning. First and foremost, there was the war. Everyone was speaking as though it had already begun, which worried Shae. There had been conflicts and skirmishes when Rowan had been in charge-trade disagreements with the south, border disputes with Tarthen, but never a full scale war like this seemed to be becoming. What would happen if it truly became one in earnest? He would need to rally the spell casters. There were all kinds of protective enhancements that could be done in order to defend their city, which, though small, rested upon one of the largest sources of magical power on the continent. Blood Elves were particularly adapt at harnessing that source. A properly trained sorcerer could obliterate armies by simply moving a finger.

Alright, so the war might come. Next was his concerns about his betrothed. An allegiance with the snow elves could be critical at this point, especially given their positioning. If Tarthen had enemies on both sides, then it couldn't hope to last long, though Shaegar was certain Ellias would be doing the same thing if war was truly on his mind. Marriage would secure that allegiance, or the promise of it would. The actual marriage could wait until the war was over. He hoped.

Unbidden, a sudden flash of imagination came to him. Himself, in a relationship so eerily similar to that of his own parents, not built on love, but on strategy. Would his own patience flicker away, bowing to stress and expectation? Would it be him yelling at his own son, mere decades or centuries from now?

Shaegar grimaced and shoved the thought away. No. No matter what his relationship to her would be, he refused to turn cruel and twisted.

A voice, soft and unfamiliar, inturrupted his thoughts. Shaegar lifted his head, eyes wary and alert, his expression drifting into one of surprise as he caught sight of the elvish woman who stood near the door. He'd seen folk from Enfedel before, diplomats his father had met with, ambassadors from the white-capped mountains. She appeared similar to them-the white colored hair, the angular features-even the way she moved and carried herself seemed to suggest a kind of grab, so practiced that it had become natural. Of course, those of his own culture carried themselves a similar way, but their stances focused more so on power and confidence, all straight backs and stiff shoulders. Gentleness was not always encouraged.

"Lady Hapris-forgive me for not greeting you and your party when you arrived here. This conflict with Tarthen came unexpectedly. I hope your journey went smoothly."

Smooth and polite as his voice was, Shaegar was at a loss as to how exactly he should interact with this woman, ten times more a stranger than his old friend was. Had he ought to remain at a formal distance, or loosen up a little, seeing as they'd be married likely within the year or two? Should he approach her? Probably not, social boundaries were different with snow elves, and he didn't want to seem like he was being pushy. He didn't even know what sort of a person she was to begin with.

Ah-soldering. That, he could elaborate on.

"There isn't typically much discrimination between genders here. If a woman wishes to serve, she may." Shaegar explained. "It's not entirely common, but it's still done."

He kept his hands clasped lightly behind his back and bore her stare, even if it made him a little uncomfortable. It looked too much like she was sizing him up.

"No-No, you're more than welcome. I've just issued orders to some of our generals, so there shouldn't be any more meetings for a short while." There was a short pause, and Shae cleared his throat. "Can I offer you something to drink, Lady Hapris? I hope your stay here has been a comfortable one thus far."

****

It was rare to see the esteemed Lady Noviyn out wandering around, much rarer to see her in the training grounds. Draymont frowned, sheathing his blade at his back, approaching her and giving a polite dip of his head. "One is never through learning," he replied, his voice gruff and far less eloquent than the woman he was addressing. "Something I can help you with?"

He stood largely unaffected by the show of weeping and sorrow-at least until the mention of assassination. Draymont's green eyes flashed, and he was quick to demand answers. "What do you mean by that? What have you heard?" He could already feel his sword arm tensing. Assasination had been a very real fear of his when it came to Shaegar, who had risen to the throne so young and so suddenly. The implication that one of his own men was a spy boiled his blood. He handpicked those individuals himself, along with Feledor. Deception was difficult to get away with in such close ranks.

There was nothing for it. He would keep someone posted with Shaegar day and night. He would interview as many people as possible, would search everyone's chambers and possessions.

"This threat will pass. Assasination is the cowards way. If there is a spy here," Draymont said firmly, "We'll stomp him out."

Ekserma Dessert​
When the beast began to make circles in the air, just overhead to where the ship was tied off, looking like some great vulture interested in carrion, Asher began to feel nervous. This nervousness only grew as the shape became larger and larger as the seconds ticked by. Instinctively, he reached for the blade at his waist, but then hesitated. For one thing, if he drew his weapon, it wouldn't be a very promising start. And for another, it was a bloody dragon. What good would steel do, if any?

"What's this bloke doing?" Jasper demanded.

Asher shook his head, silent. The ground tremor beneath his feet as the dragon landed, standing easily fifty times the height of their ship, jaws as long as his own forearm. The putrid scent of sulfur and arsenic perfumed the air, and would have made Asher gag had he not been in the process of trying to recall every single transgression he had committed in his life, and if any of them were so horrible enough as to impact him in the next one. The mistake that had gotten him banished from Tarthen hadn't been his fault, all he'd done was gotten a little too friendly with the daughter of someone important. And the fellow he'd mugged in the city had been something of a bastard anyway, keeping all that gold to himself. And stealing liquor from the taverns, well, they had too much to begin with, they wouldn't have missed a flaskful or two, would they?

His extetensial crisis was interrupted, predictably, by the presence of the dragon's master. The first thing Asher noticed was that she was a girl (and quite a beautiful one at that, but the second and more pressing matter was that a bloodthirsty dragon was snarling behind her, ready to attack at the slightest indication. They needed to move, and quickly.

He opened his mouth. No sound came out. It was Jasper who broke the silence.

"Fair winds to you, my friend," the older man said stepping forward, his curteous tone betraying his upbringing as a diplomat. "We come with high greetings from His Majesty, King Elias, who sends a gift of good will." At a sharp glance from Jasper, two men stepped forward to place down a large, finely crafted saddle, lined with gold thread and fine leather, large enough to be secured around a dragon without causing harm to the animal. "We wish to offer you a fine opportunity, one that will not again present itself in our lifetimes," Jasper continued. "The opportunity to fight for the rightful Eastern King, for which he shall be eternally indebted to you and your folk."
 
Shehodorei​

Once Noviyn had the General’s attention it would plant the idea easily into his mind, easy with words of pure deception. She looked up at the man, her eyes wide, looking at him with distress. She knew this elven man was loyal to the crown, she had seen him countless times when Rowen was ensuring their borders were safe from threats. She never did see much of the man as a leader but he was someone within the ranks of power that would be able to push her plans into acceleration.

“I have heard nothing more other than whispers in the shadows, faces I could not see in such darkness but voices familiar at the same time, not recognizable. I do hope your words speak the truth, I would so hate to bury another King so soon under your watchful eye.”

Noviyn said as she soon made her way towards the archway leading out into the open air, the smell of sweat and metal was starting to make her feel sick, the sound of singing metal erupted through the air that pierced at her ears sharply.

“I do have all my trust put into you and General Feledor. You both have served the crown for longer than anyone would have imagined but as time moves, may the lack of skill in identifying the perpetrator. From what I have learned all my years, those you hold exceptional expectations are usually the ones to hide in plain sight, those are the ones who disappoint you the most.”

And with that, she turned her back to the man and walked away but before she left, she turned slightly to look at Draymont, her eyes catching to his before turning away. She hoped the man knew what she where she was pointing towards, she hoped he is not as stupid as she thought he is. Well, we can only see where it goes from here, her mind wandered as she retired back to her room to watch history unfold before her eyes.

Feledor soon emerged from his hiding spot, he had seen that vicious woman entered the training grounds and wanted nothing more to do with her. He never liked her and he doubts he ever will, from behind the cobbled stone walls of the training grounds, he made his way forward to stand beside Draymont as he watched the wretched woman leave. And once Noviyn was out of sight, he turned to the General with a look of concern.

“The woman may be questionable but let us not forget she has eyes and ears all over the eastern lands. She knows more than we do and I would not take her words lightly.”

Feledor said as his yellow eyes never leaving the archways that lead to the palace. His hands folded and he stood tall, but something inside of him was questioning those around him. Anyone could be an assassin, anyone they would never suspect could do it, even them. Even though the were prepared for war when it does come knocking on their doors, he knew many lives would be lost, the many destructions that would be left in their forest would be enough to upset the Gods above them.

The borders were as secure as it could get, there was only so much magic the casters could put out before it drove them mad with power. Magic for the Blood Elves must be used strategically, their defenses might be strong but what about their offensive stand towards the humans? Did they have enough numbers to meet the Tarthen on the battlefield? Or maybe Shaegar’s approve of a civil conversation was a better chance they might have? Though the many Kings before Shaegar always resolves conflicts between kingdoms with bloodshed, maybe this new King could shine a new light upon their lands.

Thoughts now running through Feledor’s mind, he had great respect for Rowan and now the same respect for his son. He had watched the boy grow and to his surprise, he had grown faster than anticipated. All they could do now was to await the news and maps that Beriadanwen comes back with, though he had sent Beriadanwen on the journey alone, she had always came back successful. Though this time having to survey the enemies stronghold was a different story, he had send a few others with her, a small group of three. They would be able to cover more ground but wouldn't be seen as a threat, they would be able to silently as they were trained, hidden by the nigh and ready to report what they found.

“I say I’ll start the interrogation of those stationed at the palace, see if they have noticed anything different or strange since King Rowen’s death. You start searching through their chambers and possessions?”

Feledor suggested, splitting this headache they are now facing. As if a war wasn’t enough, an assassination within their walls was something they would not trifle with.

Evelyn smiled as the king offered her a drink, she kindly accepted it as she now seemed to be preoccupied with the decorations on the walls, the maps spread across the table. Unlike Enfedell, the buildings and structures were made of raw material, stone, and marble, all polished to shine brightly for the king himself. Back in her home, everything was made of ice, the Snow Elves were gifted Elementalist when it came to water and ice. They had built their kingdom based on their skills alone, from the ground up, all physical structure was made out of pure ice that glowed a sparkling blue. Many called Enfedell the City of Ice, where the multiple hues of blue were enough to sat many travels in awe, the city never melted as magic was the sole upkeep of it. Though such power to maintain a whole nation drained the mana pool of the Snow Elves greatly, which was why an arranged marriage to the Blood Elven kin was set. This was to ensure their land was consistently charged with magic, keeping the ice frozen solid for centuries to come. Though the city was shrouded with grey clouds and the sun was none existent just as Shehodorei, the people of Enfedell lighted candles that burn fire of blue, casting a heavy emphasis on the sapphire like city. Like a gemstone, it was tucked away in the north where the cold was bitterly evil.

However, once her eyes were done venturing off through the room, they fell back to the king. She had nothing to say to him, she did not know what to say or even know how to start another conversation. It wasn’t because of their awkward position they were in but it was because she never did have that much practice conversing like a normal person without having to rehearse what she would need to say like a speech. For a long moment, there was a pause in their exchange as she was thinking about what to say next what, thinking hard and carefully with what she had been taught. Maybe to answer his questions? She asked herself.

“Yes, the journey was long but the stay was more than comfortable. Thank you for your hospitality towards my father and me. You do not need to apologize as your delegates had informed us you were busy preparing for a war to come. It is interesting that your women are willing to lay down their lives for their kingdom. Noble of them.”

She said with a light tone before going quiet again. The air around them was as cold as the winds in the north, two strangers being thrown into each other’s world with no expectations or connection. She could only hope that what she had sacrificed all her years to be here today was well worth helping her kingdom. But right now, she did nothing but look at the man wishing that she should have never entered the room and waited to see him with her father. She had walked in with all the confidence in the world, but even for a woman who wore such poise, it did not hide the fact that it was all through practice and years of developing such presence in oneself. Was it natural? Who was to say?

“I heard a lot about your father, he was a great king once. I apologize that you had to lose him so fast.”

She offered condolences as everyone was still doing upon seeing Sheagar. Again her lips now locked together, not another utterance came from her, and like an ice sculpture, she just stood there unmoving.


Outskirts of Shehodorei and Tarthen​

Beriadanwen was busy mapping out the west side of the plains, making sure she was thorough with each path and opening from the forest itself. She also made sure to draw each small passageway that a small troop of flankers could get by when needed, a small note on the side of the map for the scouts to keep watch while also staying hidden, and important aspect as they were the first to see the enemies marching towards them. They were the front liners, ones who either see the war before others or died first; there were times Beriadanwen felt that King Rowen had chosen this path for her in hopes to rid them of her presence, a far easier way to cleanse their soil of such half-breed. But she knew it was all in her head, it was her mind trying to understand what went wrong.

Messiah was close by, he waited alongside the horses as the black lion was far too big and would be easily seen even as the sun was starting to set. He could see Beriadanwen from where he laid as well as the others, he too was on the lookout for anyone suspicious coming towards them but the outskirts of the borders seemed to be peaceful. He could hear the Eastern Run River from the back as the faint sound of water had a calming effect, he laid patiently on the grass till Beriadanwen made her way back to him. The map rolled up and all drawn out as she slipped it back into the satchel that was on her horse.

“Already done? How long more must we wait for the others?”

Messiah as he lifted his head towards the woman.

“Hopefully soon but we can not make our way towards Tarthen when there is still light. Once the sky reduced to darkness, only then we shall ride forward. Do not worry, we shall be home at noon tomorrow to give the report to General Feledor.”

Beriadanwen reassured her companion but something about returning to the palace seemed forced, though it had been her home for many years, she never felt as though she belonged there. Maybe having her presence around such a place was not the right choice, she could always opt to live within the city but she knew what her mother would say. And even with that thought, she could hear her mother’s nagging tone for her to remain. From the sound of her mother’s voice, she turned her thoughts to the King, with the knowledge that it wasn’t Shaegar’s decision to separate himself from her, she longed to have them return to how they once were. The small banter, the free-spirited willed and spirit they were before, she misses having someone to confide her secrets too, to just have someone who shared the same understanding.

“Dan? Is that suppose to be you?”

Messiah spoke again, pulling the woman away from her brooding nature. Beriadanwen turned with a frown towards the black lion who only stared back at her with his red eyes.

“Where did you get that from?”

Her tone had slight irritation to it.

“The king called you that before we left, and you responded. You never respond to any other than but Beriadanwen.”

“It was when we were children, he could not seem to find his tongue to say my name.”

Beriadanwen had to explain but she soon decided to walk away from Messiah towards the river. Her mouth went dry and her chest felt heavy once more, she needed a drink and a place where her thoughts could align itself once more. Focus on the task, she kept repeating it to herself, as she knelt towards the water, cupping her hands to scoop a palm-full for a drink. The cool river water was able to satisfy her thirst and calmed her nerves only momentary as she soon saw her own reflection in the water. A Blood Elf started back with green eyes but it was not the eyes of an elf but eyes of a human, she never saw herself or what she is as a problem but why did she fear Shaegar knowing who she really is. She feared his views upon her would change, to soon become like the rest who had held their suspicions for so long against her.


Ekserma Desert​

Lilium was weary as her eyes watched the men carefully as they presented a saddle as a gift, looking between the men and the gift, her eyes narrowed even more. Her hand tightened its grip on the glaive and her eyes fixed on the older man who spoke while the other she assumed was a mute from how nothing came out of his mouth. Issoth made her way closer to the group of sailors, eyes now watching them as she could smell their fear, a rumbling growl in her throat that sounded the thunder as she dipped her head low, catching their scent.

“We fight for no one but our own, we fight for no king you claim to have.”

Her accent was thick and deep as she disregarded the item that was presented to her.

“You insult us thinking we would easily bow to another with such things you bring from your land? You think ill of us? Maybe I should show you what happens to those who underestimate a dragon rider.”

Lilium said as she was now ready to impale the older man with her glaive, she was ready to give the command that would send Issoth melting their flesh off their bones with her acid poison. Her jaw was clenched as she had both her hands now on the handle of her glaive as she took a step forward, she had to crane her neck to look up at this man in the face. Her deep brown eyes said nothing about empty threats as a dragon rider gave no chances of threats but before she could push the blade through the man’s armor, the ground beneath them started to rumble once more.

Taking a shaky step away from the man, Lilium used the glaive to balance herself as the ground soon started to shake violently and before any of the sailors could react, a dragon pushed itself out from the hard sand below. This one, however, looked more menacing than Issoth, its body covered in sharp talons, leathery skin of black and beige, eyes turquoise like gems, its tail was thicker and covered in the same sharp spikes. Its wing was no different as it too had spike growing out of the leathery skin, it was now made for the air bur burrowing through the ground, the hard exterior of the wings itself served as a weapon and a shield when needed. A large pair of horns protruding out of his head, as larger as a newborn calf and har enough to throw those around it through the air. It’s teeth just as sharp as it tried to snap at one of the sailors but its master soon showed himself.

“What brought you here strangers?”

The man spoke as he appeared behind Lilium, tall and muscular as he wore the same sense of clothing as Lilium did. This man bore small similarities with Lilium, but the most notable was his white hair. However, his complexion a much deeper shade as it was ebony, his eyes just the same color as his dragon’s, a bright turquoise hue as he stared at the men before his younger sister. Viras was the second eldest son to their father but the two did not share the same mother as his mother was the first wife to the chieftain.

“And where have you been? They are waiting for new food before they slaughter another horse but I see you brought a whole army that we could feast on.”

His strange colored eyes now looking at the men with a hungry stare.

“They have come seeking us to fight for a king.”

Lilium explained while the two dragons now closing in on the group, their eyes filled with hunger as they have yet to feast upon the flesh of men in many weeks. A burst of boisterous laughter erupted through the tension, Viras was finding such new amusing, insulting even but it took time for the male dragon rider to compose himself.

“Fight for a self-proclaimed king? Such an insult to our kind. Sister, what have we do with such men?”

He questioned as he lifted his hand up to his dragon, keeping it at bay for now. Awaiting these men to make the first and last move of their life.

“Shall I send their bones back to this king? Maybe Dumerth could finally have a taste of human meat once more.”

He said but he cooed his words at the sailors, taunting them with the presence of two hungry dragons awaiting their orders.
 
His arms crossed over his chest, Draymont stood along with Feledor as Noviyn turned and withdrew from the area, still appearing as a porcutre of nobility even in her supposedly distressed state. He gave a small grunt of agreement when Feledor spoke. He hadn't missed the implication that he was too old to perceive threats, and had been about to give her an earful of some choice words when she'd cut the brief conversation short. Still, he puzzled over her words. Why had she been so cryptic? Not wanting to unveil her sources of information, he expected. Feledor was right in saying that she likely had everyone from serving maids to cleaning boys reporting to her in the hopes of some coin or advantage. Servants were useful for that-they heard things other didn't.

"We'll begin with those who just left, seeing as their chambers will be empty," Draymont replied curtly. He could think of no names in particular who stood out to him when he considered that party-save perhaps one. But if Beriadanwen had been plotting all this time to murder Shaegar, hadn't she had opportunity before? The two had grown up together. Then again, the acorn didn't always depart from the tree, and it might be that the young elf had inherited her mothers scheming in a much darker way.

It seemed unlikely. Yet, that lingering shade of doubt had been drawn over Draymonts mind, so that when he entered the young soldier's room, he already had his reservations.

The room itself was fairly bare, with few personal possessions aside from the basics-a few books, and basin of water, some roses. He carefully opened a few of the drawers, rifling through them. Not much of interest aside from papers. It was only when he glanced further up the desk that he caught sight of it.

The vial was small, an opaque violet color just barely large enough to be held between the index finger and thumb. A chill ran through Draymont as he reached for the vial, already knowing the scent long before he uncapped it and held it to his nose. Alarish venom, known by the common folk as Kingslayer for it's often used purpose, gave a strong and bittersweet scent, like rotted fruit. Though the smell was detectable to his trained nose, the emptiness of the vile made his pulse skyrocket. Striding out of the room, he seized one of the nearby guards.

"Get to King Shaegar. Now, Gods damn you!!"

Meanwhile, the king himself remained unaware of the sheer lethality within his cup. he had yet to take a sip.

He carefully concealed a weary sigh as, once again, condolences for the loss of his father were given. "Thank you," he replied, feeling rather numb to the whole situation. Evelyn was absolutely unreadable, in such a way that almost made him nervous. She plotted out every word spoken, he could tell by the long pauses before she spoke. Likely that she was as nervous as he was, if not more so. But she was far more politically-minded, he could tell. That might come in handy, but it also created a cold sort of exterior that he wasn't entirely sure what to do with.

"I can only hope this situation will be over with quickly and we can spend a bit of time getting to know each other." A small smile flickered on his face, more composed than genuine. He didn't want to appear as if he wanted nothing to do with her, after all. Absently, Shaegar brought the glass to his mouth.

Odd. Wasn't this sort of wine not supposed to be this sweet-scented?

As though on cue, the oak door burst open with a slam, startling Shaegar so much that he actually dropped the cup, spilling a bit of the wine onto his shirt. As though composed of acid, the drops sizzled and actually ate tiny holes through his sleeve, s thin stream of smoke emitting from them.

Shae stared, even as the intruder, whom he now recognized as Draymont, bolted over, seizing the cup from Evelyn.

"Did either of you drink?" he demanded. "Speak!"

"I-No? No, I don't think so," Still bewildered, Shaegar stammered, his eyes wide, flickering from the spilled puddle of wine, to his shirt sleeve, to Draymont, and back again.

Slowly, Draymont's shoulders seemed to relax, though his eyes kept their wild wariness. "No. No, you'd be dead by now if you had," he mused with a shake of his head. He would need to send a search party out for Beriadanwen-unfortunately, Feledor had given her just the opportunity she needed to slip away like a serpent.

"Your Highness, I need to ask you to come with me. Whoever tried this may still have a second plan. You as well, please, Lady Evelyn," The older elf added, motioning for both of them to follow with a sharp jerk of his head.

Ekserma Desert​
Asher was moving as soon as the woman went for her blade, reaching for his own weapon with his blue eyes sparking in anger. "Back off from him!" He exclaimed, starting forward, at least before Jasper held a hand. Against his better judgement, Asher stopped his movement. The older man always seemed to know best, but even Asher was doubting his judgement during such a precarious time. No sooner had they addressed this woman that she was making threats against a group of men who were only there to convey a message. If they were so willing to murder without discrimination, maybe they ought not to serve King Elias anyway. Who was to say they wouldn't decide to turn around and burn down Tarthen after they were done with the elves?

"There isn't any need for threats," Jasper continued calmly. "I know you're reasonable, and bloodshed isn't necessary. If you refuse, we will simply turn around and-"

The ground shook, almost knocking Asher over again-Did this dammned ground ever just sit still? However, the source of the tremors soon appeared known as a second dragon burst through the ground like some hellish Earthworm. This time, Asher did draw his sword, holding it in hand and relying himself for a fight. The rider of this dragon appeared similar to the girl, if not a tad older. His flickering suspicion that the two were kin was confirmed when the man dressed the woman by the familiar title-sister.

Already, he didn't much care for either of them. A sharp glare overtook Asher's expression as the two continued to gloat on and make threats, his own sword still held at the ready. Jasper, however, continued on as though they were merely commenting on the weather.

"The fact that we aren't dead yet betrays your interest," the older man pointed out. "And besides, you haven't yet heard what the reward will be. Both your dragon's weight in gold will be offered as payment, along with enough food to last three generations. It's been a difficult summer here, I've heard. There's nothing wrong with taking advantage of an opportunity to secure the well being of your people and yourselves."
 
Shehodorei​

Evelyn jumped and in a split second, her well-composed self seemed to have shattered like ice. Her eyes widen and she inhaled sharply when the sound of doors slammed against the walls, the sound resonated through as a voice she hasn’t heard before spoke loudly and urgently. The glass of wine she held in her hand was taken from her, at first she did not understand why. Was the wine that bad? Rotten bunch? Was what that ran through her mind but the cold atmosphere of the room now turned colder when Draymont spoke of the death with the consumption of that wine.

“Is someone trying to harm us, Sir?”

Evelyn asked, even her planned out words were laced in worry for her own safety. Assassination against the royal crown was something many Kings and Queens had to be weary off, it was something she had been taught long before coming here. But no one knew or understood what it was like when faced with it first hand, her light blue eyes flashed with a scared look, the idea that she almost died today was something she did not plan accordingly. Evelyn started to shake, she was afraid, too afraid and just like that, her exterior of ice melted revealing only but a scared child inside.

“I..I’m sorry...I need to go find my father.”

The stuttering of her words made her take a few steps away, her skin crawled as she looked at Shaegar for a brief minute before running out of the room to where her father was. She pushed passed a figure that too was making his way towards the king.

“Lady Evelyn?”

Feledor spoke but he could hear the sobs of fear from the woman as she ran away. He was surprised to see such a noblewoman able to run that fast, Draymont must have already informed them about the poison while he had to hear it from one of the guards that came to give him the report. Feledor could not believe what he was just told, it was impossible, of course, it was, one of his scouts was the perpetrator? Impossible, he had handpicked them by skill and loyalty to the throne but then there was Beriadanwen. Her case was slightly different than most, she was thrown his way by Rowan’s orders but even then, the girl had not given him any reason to believe she was capable of such.

Beriadanwen to him had grown in so many ways under his command, she had honed her skills, worked harder than most he had seen and he knew the woman had a soft heart from the way she treated those around her. So, such news came with a hammer to his mind, it was hard for him to wrap such an idea around his thoughts but the evidence did not lie. And so, he too must face the consequences he had put the crown under but he also wanted what drove Beriadanwen to want to commit such a heinous act. Feledor cautiously made his way inside the room, his eyes watched between Draymont and the King, he noticed the spilled wine on clothes that the King wore and relief escaped his mouth. Not dead yet, he thought but he could tell from Draymont expression, it was not going to be easy for Beriadanwen to run from this.

“My most deepest apologies, your majesty. I take full responsibility for such an act to happen upon you. I have failed to keep you safe as I have allowed my own bias thoughts to influence me to not see what the truths are.”

Whatever the truth may be, Feledor was keen on finding innocence in the young elven woman. He knew she was a quiet one but he had hoped to believe she was innocent, how he was going to prove it was beyond him with what Draymont had found in her room. But he would need to speak to her and hopefully, the royal court would find her truth or if they do not, take mercy on her soul.

“I have already dispatched two riders to look for Beriadanwen. I pray she did not go far and I pray that you find mercy once you have come to judge her Draymont. Such acts from the woman must have a reason.”

Feledor spoke as he knew the Blood Elven court can be vicious especially towards those who do not stand in the same status as they are. He feared for Beriadanwen even if she may have committed the act as he had grown to admire her skills and determination in what she does. He pitied her from time to time with how even her own mother treated her, and now he hoped there was something semblance to a heart in Noviyn to save her own child from being hanged.

“My apologies, King Shaegar.”

He said again but this time it was for the news that he was forced to bring of his old friend.



Outskirts of Shehodorei and Tarthen
​

Once Beriadanwen had been able to clear her thoughts by the river, she took one last drink from it before making her way back to where the other scouts were already gathered. They were not deliberating on each of their portion of the map, trying to form it into one big map for the King and Generals to use, they took their time with it as they now had time to kill before the skies turned dark. Beriadanwen made her way quietly towards Messiah as she could hear the chatters in the foreground, she felt no need to join them as she would later add her portion of the map.

“Where did you go?”

Messiah questioned as he was gnawing on a piece of bone that was given to him one of the scouts.

“Not too far, just by the river.”

She said as patted him on the head before two riders now appeared in the distance. Beriadanwen squinted her eyes to get a better look, it was one of their own, with the colors they wore which she relaxed slightly. Did Feledor send for more men? How important is this? She questioned as the pounding of the hooves against the grass got louder as the two riders made their way towards them. The other scouts also stopped what they were doing with the same confused expression on their faces, unsure what was going on and why there was a need to add more to the group. But they questions all were answered when the two riders made their way straight for Beriadanwen and ignoring the rest of them.

She could see their eyes glowed brighter in the dimming skies, their eyes filled with enmity as they looked right at her. This made Messiah dropped what he was doing and stood up, making his way towards Beriadanwen and the two soldiers on their horses.

“You are to come with us. Orders by General Feledor.”

One spoke in a harsh tone. Beriadanwen frowned, Feledor had never sent for her in the middle of a task before, something did not feel right and she wasn’t about to leave without a given reason. The other two scouts were now whispering in the background, she could hear their concerns and confusion in their words as she did not blame them for.

“The General had never sent two riders out looking for me while I am to finish my assignment. This is not common and I demand you give me a reason.”

She asked with her own tone just as rough as theirs. Though she may be quiet and never once fighting back when those around her jeered at her but she will not be pushed around when she was on duty.

“You are not in the position to be asking questions. Orders by the General, if you refuse, we have to do what it takes to bring you back. Unarmed yourself and come with us. I will not ask again.”

The rider said. None of it seemed to make sense to Beriadanwen but she will not argue as she could see the other two scouts now had their mouths hung open. Am I in trouble? She questioned but asked no more, she sensed these two riders were not going to take her lightly, not after what they said. She removed her bow and quivers, the second rider pulled it away from the woman before reaching out his hand again, asking for that dagger she kept in her boot. Reluctantly, she pulled it out and handed it to him before making her way to mount her horse.

“As for the two of you, your orders still stand. Scout the enemy’s stronghold and report back to General Feledor.”

The first rider spoke before turning his horse from them, he waited for Beriadanwen to come into sight before they rode back to Shehodorei, making sure she was always in their view as they wouldn’t know if this woman was going to run or not. Messiah followed close, he too felt something unright but he stayed close just incase as his senses were warning him of danger as they got closer to the kingdom gates.


Shehodorei​

They had arrived early in the wee hours of the morning, the sky was darker than usual in Shehodorei, the people were still asleep as they rode passed the city towards the palace. Even the palace had no candle lights lighted up as most have yet to wake to greet the new day. Beriadanwen had been silenced by one of the guards for asking too many questions, they threatened to tie her mouth shut till they arrive if she dared opened it again. And from the hostility from both the guards, she sensed she would receive the same treatment when she arrived.

As they now dismounted and placed their horses back into the stables, one of the guards took Beriadanwen roughly by the arms and yanked her forward. He pushed her to walk in the direction away from the room Feledor uses as his study, she was walked all the way down to the dungeons and her green eyes now widen.

“What is the meaning of this? I...You can not put me here without a reason.”

Beriadanwen fought back, trying to resist as they opened a locked gate of a cell. Messiah started to turn aggressive as he sensed Beriadanwen in danger but the other guards were quick to wrap a chain around the black lion's neck, which took about six guards now to pull the animal down. And once the animal was restained, the forced it into another cell of its own, built it metal spikes on the bars, keeping it from bending it and escaping. A loud rumbling roar came from him as Beriadanwen was forced into the cell with much resistance to it, she demanded her answers she yelled at them for being unfair and unjust towards the actions taken upon her. But it was only received with more belligerence from them and Beriadanwen made it difficult for them to accomplish a simple task, so much so, one had to knock her out with a fist right at her cheekbone.

Beriadanwen was out like a candle fire being blown when the fist made contact with her face, she felt the bruising pain but was unable to do anymore when her body went limp and lifeless. They quickly place Beriadanwen on the wet stone floors of her cell before slamming the celler door shut, the sound of rattling keys echoed in the dingy space. Messiah had not stopped, his growls and roars never-ending, hi jaws snapping at those coming too close but nothing he did would make them release the both of them from the dungeon. It was cold and it smelled of death, piss and everything to insult the nose, why they were locked up without a given reason was something he won't understand, he knew how some treated Beriadanwen but this was unacceptable in his eyes.


Ekserma Desert​

The mention of food and to feed their own perked their interest, their lands are as barren as it is and nothing would ever grow even with the help of magic, the soil was stubborn. The only source of food the people of the south relayed on was from trade but that only happened in the cities and as for the nomadic people, the hunt began. Lilium soon stepped forward from her brother, her eyes now looked from one man to another as she signaled for her own dragon to step away.

“Your promise of food? We do not need your gold or your fancy gifts, but to feed our people.”

She said as she looked at Viras now. Her brows furrowed slightly at him, making sure he understood what she meant with her words, something unsaid to the sailors but only to him. Viras only sighed and nodded as he too made his dragon backed away a few steps but both dragons can only be contain for so long before ignoring their masters entirely to fill their hunger.

“You come with us to see our father, your agreement must be with our chieftain and not with us. We are not allowed to leave the southern borders without the permission granted.”

Viras said as he made his way over to Dumerth, used the dragon’s sharp spikes on its wings to scale on his back, mounting it before having to lead this small troops to their camp. However, whatever happened along the way is not his responsibilities, it was their own.

“Let's see how many of you make it to the camp, and after we shall count the remaining bones of your brothers. The dragons you see now and will see in the wild are different, the wild ones have no masters, they do as they please.”

He gave them a nonchalant warning before making off on the ground with his dragon, turning his head back a few times to see how well these humans were able to keep up in the south. Lilium on the other hand just looked at Jasper with eyes of uncertainly, she did not trust these men but at the same time, she had given them no reason to trust her as well. But her people were now forced to unspeakable ends to keep themselves and their dragons alive, mouths must be fed and they were only so much sacking one could do when onto another camp without losing dragons and family in the process.

She turned away from the man and mounted her dragon, Issoth gave the group one last hungry look before taking off into the air once more. She traveled back to camp faster then Viras as he was to led these sailors but she too needed to warn her father and the others about the company that will be arriving at their doorstep. The campsite was filled with women drying horse meat under the sun, Lilium could smell the cooking meat that filled the air with its aroma, it made her mouth watered. The children were happy as ever as they played amongst themselves in the small enclosure, the men were busily sparing amongst themselves and Lilium had spotted a few of her brothers doing so, and even some of her sisters beating each other bloody with their weapons.

Some might think a lifestyle such as this was rough and uncivil but to Lilium this was how she enjoyed most of her life. She made her way passed the nursery where they kept the unhacted dragon eggs around a fire that was created by a dragon’s breath, 2 eggs sat in the fire itself incubating while a girl no more than the age of nine was busy feeding milk to a whelping that hatched not many days ago.

“I see my little sister found her dragon?”

Lilium said with a smile as she stopped and knelt over the girl with raven hair tied in a ponytail, her eyes just as deep and dark as Lilium with the same shade of complexion. Echo looked up at her sister with a smile as the whelp was yapping away in her arms, a small blue baby dragon with its scales still a matted color but once it was grown, it would be as beautiful as the others were.

“Yes, papa said it is mine.”

The child exclaimed excitedly as she now placed the dragon on ground beside her.

“Did you find any food yet, Lilium?”

Echo asked curiously, her eyes wide with hope but Lilium said nothing other than giving a smile. Not wanting to give false hope to the youngest in their family.

“Go to your mother, there are more matters than food alone, Echo.”

She said and Echo only nodded as the child made her way to her mother’s tent, Lilium only watched her sister leave. Soon you won’t have to ask that question anymore, sister. Lilium said to herself, a promise she made in her own mind, to end the need to worry about the next meal was going to come. The white-haired woman turned to look down at the whelp that was chewing on the fabric that was tied around her waist, she raised an eyebrow it as before having to pull the cloth away from it as it was already beaten up as it is.

“It is the next generation of you, we are worried about.”

She spoke to the whelp not caring if it understood her or not. The numbers of dragons were decreasing fast, their concerns on the breeding were a priority to them and for Lilium, she was sad to see such majestic creature fade from the world.
 
Shaegar stood as motionless as the ice where Evelyn lived, still staring at the acidic liquid on the ground in mute shock. The liquid, instead of spreading out to an even puddle, had eaten away at the floor beneath their feet, leaving a faintly smoking gap. He had been mere seconds away from ingesting that, as had Evelyn. The prospect of assassination had always seemed like something distant and far off to Shae, not a relevant concern. It had never happened to his father, or if it had, it had been long before he was born. As for Shae, he'd found all of the precautions unnessecary and over the top. With so many guards around, how would someone even have the opportunity to do anything to him?

Yet it had nearly happened. He tried to retrace where the wine had come from, but it was useless-the cask must have passed hundreds of hands before it had gotten into his pitcher. What about the servant who had left it for him? His blood felt like ice water. Who hated him here enough to want him dead? Unbidden, his thoughts flickered tp Noviyn, but this was quickly dismissed. She didn't like him, but she didn't want him dead...Did she?

Was this a ploy by the king, or-?

'I have already sent two riders to search for Beriadanwen.'

Relief came over Shaegar at the thought. She would know what to do about all of this, would phrase it in a way that made sense-

'My apologies, King Shaegar.'

"No," He said quickly, his speech losing its ever present filter at last given the shock of the situation. "No, she wouldn't do something like that. It isn't-..."

But the wisened sorrow in Feledor's eyes spoke volumes. Shae opened and shut his mouth, but continued to shake his head, utterly stunned.

"No," he repeated, softly, as thought to himself. "She wouldn't do that to me. We're friends. She's my friend."

The lectures from Rowan came again from the recesses of his memory, despite his efforts to fight them off. 'It is not for a King to have friends,' his father had said one evening, as the two were sat at the table in his study. 'Many surround him-advisors, guards, protectors, serfs. But he has no friends. You'll learn that soon. To be King is to be alone.'

Perhaps he could finally consider himself a king. He felt more alone than he ever had in his life.

Still numb, he allowed himself to be guided by Draymont into one of the alcove-chambers, a guest room on the other side of the castle from his usual chambers. The reasoning was obvious-another attack would be planted in his room, and they would need to search and make sure there was nothing there. At length, they arrived to the simply-furnished room, though still luxurious in comparison to the homes outside of the main castle where the ordinary folk lived. Draymont entered the room first, scouring over before admitting Shaegar inside. There was a moment before he spoke, during which Draymont drew a heavy sigh, his voice sounding more sympathetic than Shaegar had ever heard.

"This happens to the best of leaders. I'm only sorry that it happened to you so soon." With that, and a brief squeeze on his shoulder, Draymont left to assume position outside the door, leaving Shaegar some space to process.

He didn't feel like he could process much. His head was spinning. He sank down onto the bed, the back of his head hitting the pillow. He reached up and, with fingers he still couldn't really feel, undid the small ponytail and braids near the back of his head, letting his dark locks tumble down towards his chin and jaw.

Beriadanwen. He supposed there should be some horrified acceptance, but he simply couldn't make himself believe it. The closest friend he had growing up, whom he'd spoken to not even an hour ago, had been plotting his demise? Shaegar couldn't believe it.

He sat up, suddenly. No-he couldn't believe it because it didn't make sense. He'd grown very skilled at reading people, and he was sure she hadn't turned into an accomplished master of deception during her time in the army, or at least, he didn't think so. Surely he would've caught something-some awkwardness, something that struck him as odd during their talk. If she truly had wanted him dead, dead and in the ground, why would she have waited so long to make it happen? Even if she'd been plotting all this time, it seemed too random an attack to suit her character.

Maybe he was in denial. All he did know was that he was exhausted, and it wasn't long before he turned his face towards the window and let sleep claim him.

**********

Draymont's footsteps were purposeful as he made his way down to the prison cells where Beriadanwen was being held. He'd left Shaegar in the hands of one of his first luteniants, standing guard outside of the king's door. He would be safe for the time being-they had scoured the castle and disposed of all the wind caskets, just to be safe, and no other threat had been found. The girl seemed to have placed all her luck on that one attempt, and by sheer grace, it had failed.

Now, her luck was over.

The familiar scent of must and mold greeted him as he took the stone stairs downward, ducking his head so as to avoid striking it on the low ceiling on his way down. The cells were empty for the most part-their country was not one where crime was always high, or if crimes were committed, they weren't usually grand enough to warrant housing in the dungeons. But this was a most previous offense, one that most surely would see Beriadanwen on the other end of a rope. And, if she were indeed guilty, Draymont would watch with an expression as unfeeling as stone.

She was unconscious, which somewhat irked him. Prisoners were not meant to be harmed unless in the context of interrogation, and interrogation was his job. With a frustrated huff, the elder elf swung the door forward and shut it carefully behind him, nudging Beriadanwen's shoulder with his boot.

"Up." He barked. "Now."

Ekserma Desert​
Asher was sure that navigating the dessert must have been a downright pleasant experience from the back of a dragon, but on foot, it was sheer hell. He'd taken not ten steps before sweat began coursing down his forehead and dampening beneath his arms. By the time they had reached the encampment, his fair hair was darkened with precious moisture, his legs were burning, and his mouth and throat felt as though they were coated in sandpaper. All he could tase and smell was this stupid desert, the scorching earth, the dryness and unforgiving heat. He was halfway certain he'd gut a man for something cold to drink-hell, something warm. Anything, so long as it was a liquid.

He was glad Jasper would be handling the discussion with the Cheiftain, but the older man didn't seem to be doing so well either. His walking seemed like it was painful, and his jaw had grown tight, betraying the fact that he was in pain. Inwardly, Asher kicked himself for not remembering to bring along the salve that helped with Jaspers joints. It was such a small jar, he would have been able to bring it.

The camp was far from hospitable-looking. Even the inhabitants didn't seem to want to be there. Those who weren't children were in the process of nearly murdering each other with various blunt instruments in fighting matches that made even Asher-who was well versed in combat-wince. Their two guides appeared entirely unbothered. That was odd. Most women Asher knew would probably scream with fright at the sight of some of the men here.

In a usual attempt at humor, Asher leaned over to his companion. "They better not think we're the food, eh?"

A stern glanced warned him to keep his mouth shut and, for once, Asher decided to heed the warning.
 
Shehodorei​

Beriadanwen felt a tap on her shoulder, her unconscious mind started to stir back into life and it was then she could smell the putrid of the cellars she was locked within. It was enough to make her heave, her cheek pressed against the slimy wet floors, cool against her flesh, whatever moisture it was it had soaked into the linens of her clothes. Her eyes fluttered open, her head started to hurt as though her brain was screaming for release. Vision blurred at first but as it slowly cleared she could see the tips of someone’s boots, slowly picking herself up from the floor, her body shaking to the bone from her wet clothes and the cold. The right side of her cheek where she was hit started to burn, a purple discoloration with a yellowish tinge on her pale skin, her hand quickly flew to it, feeling a tender welt already formed.

Her eyes flickered to the face she was hoping to not see, she hoped to find Feledor instead, someone who had more patients. But it must be something serious if General Draymont was down here himself for her, she took a step back and leaned against the wall for support as her head was still light. Her golden blonde hair unraveled from what had happened before, it fell down to her shoulders as she now looked up to meet the elven man’s eyes.

“General Draymont?”

She said, her words more of a question than a greeting. She still had no clue why she was placed in these cellars, she had done nothing wrong to her knowledge and if she had wrong someone, she would at least like to know how she did so.

“Why am I here?”

Was all she wanted to know, her voice did not mean disrespect to her superior as she just wanted a reason. She looked to the left and it was Messiah sitting patient close to the corners of his own cellar, he too waiting for Draymont to speak. He felt uncomfortable in the cage he was in, there was not much room for him to move freely from all the spikes that were placed around, each time he tried to even stand, he was poked in the back, his neck bumping into the sides nicked him slightly. The black lion was left with nothing but a small corner to curl up into.

“I don’t understand, I have done nothing wrong, I..”

She paused as she thought of the unthinkable, have they found out? Have they known she was not fully a Blood Elf but a half-breed? And if so, this might just be the last place she sees being put to her death, no amount of pleading would save her now. Fear of the unknown stricken her, she looked away from the man and to where her boots were now soaked in mud, her heart pounding loudly in her ears, death was so close, ready to wrap its hands around her throat.

Noviyn was in her room, the woman had not slept a wink since she heard the news the King was still alive, and now her wrath began. She picked up a ceramic jug of water from her nightstand and flung it at Hanna’s direction. The handmaiden on merely escaped it as she moved to the side quickly, the jug smashed against the walls, as it shattered to the marble flooring.

“You stupid simpleton. I only ask of something so easy and you managed to fail. All I asked was for the King dead and you couldn’t even accomplish such, you’re a fool and you’re useless to me.”

Noviyn hissed at the handmaiden as the woman cowered under Noviyn’s blind rage, slipping the poison into the wine was an easy task but making the King drink it was a different approach altogether. She doubted Shaegar would be too foolish to drink something offered by a servant girl, and so she only hoped that he would have drank the wine before the guards searched Beriadanwen’s room.

“I..sorry, Lady Noviyn. I will try harder next time.”

Hanna pleaded as she now was on her knees, begging the woman to stop throwing everything she could get her hands on at her.

“Next time? There is no next time, the King will now be guarded heavily. What makes you think you will succeed the next time when you couldn’t succeed now?”

Though Noviyn’s voice was hushed in fear of someone hearing her, her tone was seething.

“Get out! Leave me.”

She dismissed the handmaiden as she walked over to where her desk was, she needed a new plan and she needed the help from another. Hanna was relieved when she was told to leave, she scurried out of the room like a rat and down the halls to the servant quarters, fear still in her eyes as she did not know what Noviyn will ask her to do next. She knew what she was doing, by helping the consort, she knew she was also putting her head on the chopping block but she did it regardless as she was promised gold and riches when Noviyn had accomplished her goals.

Noviyn picked up a quill that was sitting in an inkpot, her hands already flying across the parchment with words. The first attempt was a failure and the King was alive, and now her daughter at risk of being hanged but that wasn’t her concern for now. She would eventually be questions of Beriadanwen’s intentions but she already had formulated such a plan when the time comes. Once she was done, she folded the paper and stood up from her chair, with the letter now in her hand she made her way towards the window. She pushed the stained glass window open and peeked her head out, it was still early in the morning and no one was up to see her, she picked a small white flower that was growing with the vines up the palace walls. Whispered a small enchantment as the petals now morphed into a dove but it was not flesh and blood like an animal as the dove have the very fragile skin of a flower petal, it was light as air and its only purpose was to send a message.

She placed the letter under the flower dove’s feet before sending it off in the direction of Tarthen, she knew King Elias would not be happy with the news but they needed a new plan of action. She needed something else to break through the inside while Elias was working on breaching the defenses that Blood Elves have made. She could only hope that this alliance was worth the many sacrifices she had made, she had even used her own daughter as a mule to get this far, she would be damn if she failed. She will not lose to a King this young, Shaegar in her eyes never fitted the role of such, he was nothing more than a child that will accomplish nothing in his time. Weak as he was, Noviyn saw this as her open opportunity to take what she always wanted, the crown.


Ekserma Desert​

Upon the sailor’s arrival at their campsite, Lilium was already standing where her mother was and just like everyone else, they all stopped what they were doing and watched as strangers walked into their homes. The dragons that were flying above got curious as some landed close to their masters, watching tentatively, wondering if food had finally come. Those dragons who traveled on land made their way closer, ignoring their masters as they too wanted to see if these men were edible but when the chieftain made his way out of his tent to greet the strangers, many seem to have backed away. The people were now going back to what they were doing before while a big burly looking man walked towards where his son was.

“Lilium has told me of these men, I expected soldiers, not sailors.”

The chieftain said with a hoarse voice, whether he was born with it or it was caused by the dry heat he was used too. Viras only turned to look at the men behind him and back to his father as his dragon was now walking away, back to his nest it had created in the ground.

“They have come baring a gift father and they want us to fight for a King. A King we know nothing about.”

Viras said as Lilium now made her way towards them once more. Her eyes now rested on the younger male who she assumed was mute.

“I hope you enjoy the weather in the south, they say only real men could survive such a heat. What does it say about you?”

She mocked him, she could tell the heat was uncomfortable to them all, it was a common feature she would see on those who traveled here thinking the heat would be forgiving. Alas, they were wrong, the southern sun is never merciful as even the rain do not dare cross paths with it.

“But that won’t matter when we cook the lot of you in a pot.”

She presumed to speak to Asher but a firm hand now held onto her shoulder, pulling her backward. She turned to look up as her father now was glaring daggers into her eyes, the same colored eyes she had on her own. She remained quiet but her eyes soon fell on the older man, he seemed to have weakened and to her, it was easy prey. Lilium watched the older man with interest, counting the many hours before succumbing to the sun, her eyes had a sadistic glare in them with her lips curved into a smile.

“I wonder how much more can you hold on for.”

She said as walked around her father to where Jasper stood, her eyes still wild as before.

“Lilium”

Her father barked and the woman again backed away. Her brows furrowed slightly but she remained quiet for now. She stood behind Viras who had the same look on his face, his turquoise eyes now watching his father converse with these foreigners.

“My daughter had come to me claiming men who ride boats are looking for us to fight for a King? Why are we to fight for a foreign land that has nothing of our concern. And why would we fight for humans who will never win against one of us.”

The chieftain spoke in a loud tone, those it was not meant to be an insult to these men but a warning before they would come to an agreement. The only way to be able to gain the respect of the nomads was always to challenge one and to win a match of a sparing combat, till first blood was drawn. And if a sparing match was not agreed, one would need to tame a dragon to gain the respect of these people, but even such an undertaking was questionable.

“We will not fight for those we do not see as equal, it is beneath our oath and ourselves to do so.”

The chieftain spoke again, this time towards Jasper. He spoke directly towards the older man as he seemed to have a far better judgment compared to the rest of the lot.
 
He surveyed the gathering bruises and discoloration spreading across her face with a face totally devoid of feeling, allowing the girl a moment to return to her senses. What kind of a person had such a lack in moral code, that they could do such a thing? Draymont had enemies, certainly, but never would he resort to something as cowardly and underhanded as poison. When he had arguments, they were settled either face to face or blade to blade, as an honorable man would do.

"There isn't a point to pretense," he replied, and his voice maintained a clipped, professional distance, a noticeable difference from the gruff but fair way he normally dressed her. "I'll spare you any suspense. Your attempt failed."

He waited for any hint of recognition to flicker across her face. Draymont was a skilled observer-even the slightest change in the eyes or face could speak volumes. But there was nothing in Beriadanwen's face aside from sheer bewilderment. Inwardly, he felt reservation begin to take root. They had no definite witness to her plotting, and no proof aside from the bottle in her room. That in itself was damming, but it didn't necessarily mean she was guilty.

Just for the time being, he would operate under the assumption that she was and gauge her reactions.

"It was sloppily done, as well," he continued, turning to face away from Beriadanwen, his hands clasped behind his back. "The next time you try to poison a monarch, try to make sure they'll drink it."

There. A lack of detail, but enough indication to get what he was accusing her of. Next would come denial, likely a whole rattling of excuses. This would be the time when a person might panic and give themselves away by reciting details he hadn't even informed her of yet.

Ekserma Desert​
Though he remained at the front near Jasper, Asher wasn't keen on walking so close to the great beast. He could have sworn one of them, the one who seemed most loyal to the girl, kept sniffing at him. If the damn thing felt like it, it could easily rear it's great, ugly head and snap off a limb for an appetizer. Asher's jaw tightened, and he kept his hand firm on his weapon. These Riders hadn't proved themselves hospitable thus far, and he was beginning to wonder whether King Elias had actually planned on having them return alive.

The Cheiftain was more or less what Asher was expecting, a formidable looking man with eyes that resembled the ocean near their home. But Ash wasn't feeling particularly reverent or respectful, particularly when the girl-Lilium, as her father had said-goaded him directly.

The change was subtle. Hints of exhaustion faded from his face, and the fair-haired man straightened his back, his eyes flashing in anger. If she presumed him a mute, that presumption would soon be eradicated as he went so far as to guide his sword a few inches from its sheath.

"Why don't you come closer and I'll give you a taste?" he dared, one scarred eyebrow arching upwards in a deliberate challenge.

At the very least, the Cheiftain seemed more reasonable than his hotheaded children. The implication of his words were not lost on Jasper, who had studied the culture of the area for several years. He only doubted his own ability. Ten, perhaps even five years ago, he would have been able to go toe to toe with any of the three of them, but now, he wasn't quite as good as he used to be. Still, with a quiet sigh, he stepped back. "Very well. Will you give me a few moments to-"

"Oh no you don't." Asher's voice was quick to interrupt his mentor, and now it was his turn to step forward. "If there's a duel to be had, I'll have it."

"Asher." His name was growled through gritted teeth, but the younger man paid it no mind. Jasper was already spent from the trek up, there would be no duel at all if he was the one having to fight. Instead, Asher turned to dress the Cheiftain directly, though not without bowing from the waist in respect.

"Put me up against your best," he said. "You won't be dissapointed."
 
Shehodorei​

Nothing of Draymont’s words seemed to be making much sense to Beriadanwen, her face rinsed with utter perplexion. Attempt failed? Was he talking about my duties? At first, she thought she must have done something wrong along the lines of her work but that did not warrant being donkey punched in the face and slammed behind metal bars of a cellar. She only started at the man with her green eyes puzzled, she searched his face for something, anything that would give her the severity of her life in the hands of the law. But what came next only left her in bewilderment.

Poison a monarch? Was all she could hear from the man, nothing before that mattered now as she soon understood the intensity of the crimes she was accused of. Sheagar? Did he think that I was trying to poison the King? Her brows furrowed not in anger or irritation but she did not understand how she had found herself in this situation. She would never hurt the King, especially not Shaegar, yes they have fallen out of their friendship before but she held no resentment to wanted him dead. Even if she did hold such hatred, she doubted she even could.

Her eyes fell the floors, there was nothing she could say with such a claim, she did not know how to defend herself. If she tried, would General Draymont believe her? She wasn’t nobility to be spared with only a shame to the family, she was not of royal blood to have a kingdom behind her back, nor was she given a thought in her mother’s mind as she expected to see that one face instead of a General’s. She was only but a scout, one with no power or say in such a matter, and just like that, Beriadanwen could see her own death. Hanging in front of a crowd, or if they choose to humiliate her before her death for an offense against the royal crown, they lash her and brand her with a sign for those who betrayed their own.

Such thoughts of punishment made her stomach turn, she wanted neither of it, what he claimed she had tried to do.

“Say something, Beriadanwen.”

Messiah voice resonated in her head, she heard his voice loud as though he was pushing her.

“Say something or we will die here.”

Again the black lion spoke, his red eyes burning into her. Watching her with intensity, he could sense she was scared but now was not the time for it, there was no one coming to save them but Beriadanwen alone. She turned to look at her companion pushed into a corner of a cage, unable to move as much as she could, she could tell he was not pleased with how the situation is but he was right.

Beriadanwen now turned to face Draymont once more, this time she pushed herself away from the wall, her head was still pounding but that did not bother her as much as this was. She looked right at him in the eyes, she had nothing to hide because there was nothing to hide.

“Your claims of what you assumed I have done are wrong. You have misjudged my intentions towards the King. I have never and will never bring harm to him, that I swear with my own life. For many years I have given myself and kept an oath to King Rowan, my promise just as yours is to protect the crown with my own life. Why would I go back on my words now when I had many opportunities before?”

She said as she asserted herself, she will fight for her innocence, to prove herself as not guilty to this crime. And if they still did not believe her words, so be it.

“Why would I ever harm, Shae...I mean King Shaegar? And when have I given you any suspicion that I would in the many years I was under your command? Such claims are only an insult to me.”

Beriadanwen turned her head away, her eyes now on Messiah, all she could hope was they would be released. However, she wondered if Shaegar thought she would do such a thing to him, have they grown apart so far for him to think she was responsible? Was he the one who asked for me to be put here? The many thoughts running through her mind; she felt let down, the one person she could speak too so openly now thought of her as a felon.

“Does his majesty think of me so?”

She turned to look at the older man, her eyes now failed to hide her disappointment. Her hair now wild and curly, wrapping around her face and hiding how tightly she had her jaw clenched.

“What will happen now?”

Her voice trailed off, she wanted and do not want to know the answer that he may give. Where was her mother? Why hasn’t she come to her aid?

Eksermar Desert​

Both Lilium and Viras raised an eyebrow as Asher finally spoke, the amusement in their eyes as they finally got a rise out of the man. Lilium’s lips curved into a sly smile as she now watched the man acted a fool, already signing his will. The white-haired woman tilted her head to the side, chuckling at Asher's display as she turned to look at her brother.

“Does the fool know he is asking to fight a dragon?”

She whispered as her eyes never leaving the light-haired man. She had heard of many brave soldiers wanting to try their hands in combat, to go against one of their own but words would soon deceive them. The nomads had very little, lived on minimal to nothing but what they have was words, they knew how to twist and turn them in ways to benefit them entirely. And those who asked to fight the strongest and the best was asking for something else entirely as the dragon riders never considered themselves anything more than humans. To them, the dragons were their strongest fighters and without their dragons, they would not be who they are today.

“I doubt it, maybe we should let him find that out on his own.”

Viras said with as much mirth as his sister had.

The Chieftain now turned to look at his children, they were grown adults but they acted as young as Echo does. He had caught their words, though he may be old but his hearing will never betray his age, he looked at them with narrowed eyes and instantly the two went quiet again. Once he had silenced his children, he turned to look back at the sailors in front of him, especially one who had voiced his bravery.

“You are admirable for such hast with your decisions but I will not deny you what you ask for. And if you do succeed, you will see that my own children you have met will accompany you in your return till the duration you need them for but if you do fail, you along with your brothers will see to be food for our dragons.”

The chieftain spoke, words that came out casual as though he had spoken it before to those who have tried to challenge them. Viras and Lilium faced dropped upon hearing their father’s request, neither wanted to travel to where these men came from or fight for their king, but then they saw no hope for these men surviving the night, especially the one who had just offered himself as a challenger.

Viras now turned to walk back towards the encampment of his home, he was soon greeted by many of his siblings as he made his way towards where the nursery is. Looking around for a moment before picking up an egg that was laying in the fire, it was large enough to cover the man’s torso but Viras had made it look so effortless when lifting the dragon egg and walking back to the group. Lilium’s raised an eyebrow at her brother, she always knew him amongst her other siblings to be mischievous as a desert fox. What is he up too now? She thought as she now placed a hand on the rough exterior of the egg, it felt hot to the touch, the scale-like texture gave a glimpse of what the future hold for each dragon to be hatched.

“I give you a choice, you said you want to challenge our best? You can either go against Dumerth or you can bring us back a wild dragon egg.”

Viras gave Asher a choice, he was now standing face to face with the man, his bright eyes holding all sorts of trickery in his palms as he waited. The chieftain stood waiting, he did not stop his son as his eyes now watching the younger man. Lilium seemed to have her smile die away, both choices Viras had given to strangers was certain death, something she would like to see but also, it would be a shame as she wouldn’t have the luxury to taunt them further.

“If you think you are worthy to ask a dragon rider to fight for you, prove it to us. Gain our respect in the way we do.”

Viras said with a smile, his turquoise eyes now narrowed at Asher, pushing him to pick a one like an impatient child.
 
He continued to observe her, careful to keep his expression neutral even as she responded with a measured and unexpectedly even tone of voice. Part of him was unsurprised-she was a well disciplined warrior, able to face chaotic and frenzied situations with a level head and clear judgement. It was part of why, when he thought more deeply about the situation, questions began to arise. She was friends with the King. She would have been able to carry out the act discreetly and effectively, if that had truly been what her intentions were. Slipping a powerful poison into a wine that was handled by at least three or four other people, that Shaegar didn't even end up drinking. Beriadanwen was smarter than that. If she'd wanted him dead, truly, Draymont was sure of that. But still, suspicion had to be held to the forefront.

Nonetheless, his mask seemed to waver as he knelt to be able to speak with Beriadanwen more personally. "Now, we will have to investigate further. Unless," he added, and this time his green eyes held hers carefully, "You can tell me of anyone-doesn't matter if you put serious weight on it or not-might dislike you enough to place a vial of poison in your chambers, mere minutes before it was to be administered to King Shaegar. Anyone. A servant you may have offended, a fellow soldier you have have looked at as a rival. Because otherwise, I'm not sure what we'll be able to do for you."

Strange, how that wasn't even her first question. The first had been about the king, and what his opinion might have been. An odd priority, but Draymont shook his head. "I wouldn't presume to know his Majesty's viewpoint on the matter."

"If she'd wanted me dead, I'd have been dead a long time ago."

A voice from the shadows made Draymont rise sharply to his feet, hand reaching for his weapon before he recognized the familiar for of the King himself, now dressed in plain garb. The commander's eyes narrowed in dismay.

"Your Highness, did you come here unaccompanied? I gave strict orders-"

"I'm still fairly good at climbing." The explanation was short, but explained enough even if it made Draymont sigh heavily in frustration.

"It's still a very dangerous time for you, King Shaegar. This is the time when the assassin might act the most rashly, attempt something truly desperate-"

"In which case I'll have two accomplished soldiers nearby," Shae said, quelling the argument at least for the time being. Carefully, he stepped into the cell in order to sit on the stone floor, his legs criss-crossed. His hair was still down-he was used to servants pulling it back for him, and had seen no reason to fuss over it for now. However, concern flickered over his face when he caught sight of the obvious bruises on Beriadanwen. "You're hurt. How long have you been down here?"

Ekermar Desert​
At least this time Asher could claim that there was no other alternative than to fight, making it a little different from the various spats he had picked over the years. Combat seemed to be one of the few things these people respected, and though he was hot and tired, anger on behalf of his mentor coursed through his veins like fire. Still, the prospect of fighting a dragon was nothing to fool around with. They were powerful creatures. Still, he was careful to appear confident, his arms folded over his chest as he regarded first Lilium, then Viras, then finally the Cheiftain.

"Hiding behind your pets, then?" he asked with a quirk of his brow.

The jab was well-placed. He knew he would have a better chance of taking Viras on than a dragon, though he would fight the dragon if he needed to. But maybe if he could injure the man's pride a bit, he could goad them into letting the match be pure swordplay. The trick was to do so without getting torched for his impudence.

"Where I come from, men face each other alone. No fancy weapons. No tricks. Skin and steel, that's all there is."

If he was refused again, he would relent, and face the beast. But still, he may as well try to get on more even footing. If he lost, he would die anyway, as quick as he would if the Cheiftain decided he'd had enough of his impudence.

"But I can still take your lizard. Never fear." Asher punctuated this with a cocky grin, eyes lighting up with the prospect of showing his skill. He'd had some formal training with a blade, and after he'd been banished, had picked up the fine and dirty art of street fighting. And, quite honestly, he was curious about their techniques, and keen to place them to the test against his own.
 
Shehodorei​

When Draymont questioned Beriadanwen on those around her, who would hate her enough to have planted a vial in her room, she could have almost snorted at the question itself. There was a long list of people that disliked her, many with the assumption she wasn’t who she said she was and the servants that worked in the palaced only saw her as beneath them. The many elves who hold a seat at court scorned her due to her mother’s position and influence but till now, Beriadanwen never thought such was going to put her in the position she was in now. She shook her head, she wasn’t able to think of one specific person, and even if they hated her, what reason must have brought the King into such. It was a dangerous plan, something someone must have planned ahead of time, but thankfully had failed.

“I don’t know. I don’t know who would hate me that much to target the King instead of coming right for me.”

She spoke but her gaze dropped from his when she knew if she did not give a name to save her own skin, there was no saving them now. Yet, even if she did know a person, was she one to throw another into the pit? No, not the slightest, not without evidence and knowledge at least, it was against her moral code. Something she had taught herself over the years from just watching her mother, the one person she was doing her best to not be. My mother? A sudden thought came to her head, her face formed into a frown before turning to look at the General once more. No, impossible. My mother may be difficult but she wouldn’t hurt Shaegar. But would she?

Her thoughts soon disrupted by a familiar voice echoing in the halls, it was empty enough for their words to bounce all the walls, carried around hauntingly. Beriadanwen watched as Shaegar made his way down the stairwell and into the cellar they were in, what is he doing here? She thought as she had the same idea that Draymont did. His life was now in the hands of an assassin, at any moment they would be able to strike but she also knew Shaegar was a man who has been difficult to hold down. She wasn’t surprised at all that he scaled down from the windows, maybe he is still as good as climbing as he said he was. However, no wasn’t the time to question his ability but to why he saw the need to be in a place like this, she assumed there was someone who reported to him, neither the less, she was grateful.

Beriadanwen’s hand flew to her cheek and her eyes turned away from him, her fingertips against the tender flesh felt hot but a bruise like this will disappear soon enough.

“It’s nothing compared to being stabbed in the ribcage with a dagger and I do not know, I can’t tell from inside the cellar.”

She said with a slight smile before turning to look back at him.

“I’m glad you’re alright.”

She told him as relief washed over her face, her features softened from before. But as soon as it came a grim expression now crossed her features. Was he here to interrogate me as well?

“And you shouldn’t be here, this isn’t a place for a King.”

She reminded him as she turned her body to face him now, wondering how he was so casually sitting on the cold floors.

“I did not do it and that I want you to know from me and not anyone else. I would never try to hurt you or anyone in such a way.”

This time she spoke to both Sheagar and Draymont, she wasn’t sure how she was going to get out this mess created around her but whatever faith they decide, she was forced to accept it.

“Whatever happens, do not put the blame on Messiah. He would have nothing to do with this, spare his life, it is all I ask.”

She asked for mercy on behalf of her companion, if either of them were to die, she would rather not be the one having to see a friend lose their life before her eyes. Messiah now sat up, he heard everything that came from the woman’s mouth and a growl escaped him.

“Fool!”

He barked loudly in Beriadanwen’s head, it was enough to send the woman a split second of a headache as she turned to look at him with a frown. She turned away from him as she looked at both men, hoping that her request was granted if there wasn’t anything they could do.

“What did the court say? Have they come to a decision yet?”

She asked curiously as it was painful enough keeping her in the dark but the looming idea of death being so close was what made her anxious.

“No, the court has yet to come to a decision but they will be meeting today and you will be present, just as we all are.”

Feledor soon showed himself, this man seemed to appear at the worst of timing or just the right time. Either, Beriadanwen was also content to see him.

Feledor turned to look at the King who was here with them, he arched an eyebrow for a moment before addressing him in the appropriate manner.

“Your Majesty, I do believe this isn’t a place you are supposed to be in and to be out in the open so freely isn’t the best time for it. Beriadanwen may have been your friend, but she is also a suspect to your assault and being in the same vicinity with her isn’t what I would choose to do.”

He said as his eyes now resting on Beriadanwen, he could tell the younger elf was disappointed but not at him, at herself. And he took pity on her, he still had a lingering doubt she was capable of such an act.

“However, you still have time Beriadanwen. Right now, you need to do what you can to save yourself, you may not know the inside of the court but they are people vicious enough to hang an innocent child if it saves their own.”

The man spoke as he waited outside the cellar, there were already enough people in there and one more would be a crowd. He turned his eyes now to the black lion being pushed up against the wall and his brows furrowed slightly.

“Who were guards that put you here?”

He questioned. He knew very well that even a criminal was treated with more respect before being found guilty but then again when have the lower ranks of their troops ever listened? There were concerns that needed to be taken care of, and those new recruits were running amock under their noses.


Ekserma Desert​

Viras knew what the man was doing as he did the very same thing towards them much earlier but he remained focused, not allowing this man’s words to get under his skin. He kept his broad smile on his face as his locked eyes, he remained as calm as the ocean before a storm but he could not say the same thing for Lilium. The woman now took a step forward, she would of all was the one who got vexed by Ahser’s bluntness, her face said it all of how she felt and thought about the man.

“Let me show-”

Before Lilium could even finish her words, her father held a firm grip on the woman’s glaive that she already had in her hands to fight. He pushed her back roughly with a hard glare in his eyes but she did not listen.

“The only thing you will call a lizard is when I wear your skin as armor. If you want to fight, I’ll fight you.”

She spat at him as she pushed pass both her father and Viras. Her brown eyes burning holes into the man as she came close to him, her hand wrapped around her weapon’s handle so tight that her knuckles turned white.

“Unless you’re afraid to lose to a woman?”

Her eyes now taunting him, pushing him to make the first wrong more. Though her eyes now looking at him, she was sizing him up, trying to know who he was and how he fought. If he was really a soldier to this King he claims to fight for.

Lilium was a woman with no patience, a person who never did think twice about her words or actions. Danger to her was no more than child’s play but danger had no meaning to the nomads. Issoth who had been laying her self made nesting place had stood up and made her way towards her master, she smelled the same scent of the man earlier as she now inched her way closer to him. She waited for her orders and permission to melt this man’s flesh off his bone. She breathed into the group, the same smell of poison and acid was pungent in the air as she bore her teeth at them again.

“Oh..looks like Issoth wants to play as well”

Lilium said playfully as she waved her hand toward the dragon and it came closer, this time having its mouth right to the man’s side. Close enough to have one of the horns to poke lightly at his armor.

“You’re not scared, I hope. Do not worry, I’ll use my left hand.”

She teased before stepping back slightly with a grin. Both her father and brother said nothing, they now waited for the man to choose given a third option being thrown his way.

“My daughter may be audacious but she is my child, and none of my children ever lost.”

The chieftain said as he stood tall, he had now placed all his pride and hope into his children and none have disappointed him, well at least not yet.
 
Shehodorei​
It was cold down here, much colder than even the lower levels of the castle where he sometimes walk. Still, Shaegar was far too distracted by the situation to make much note of the temperature. For one thing, any lingering and hurt suspicion that Beriadanwen might've been behind this attack vanished when he saw her. It would have made more sense for her to have dropped the pretense, and besides, he still considered himself very good at reading people. His eyes remained level with her face as she spoke, a bit haltingly, as though she were having trouble getting her thoughts in order. He didn't blame her for it, it looked like she had sustained a few blows, to to mention the severity of the situation.

"I can go where I decide too. That's part of being King," he chided gently, in a small attempt to try and lighten the situation, though that was hard to do with Draymont glowering at him from where he stood.

When she assured him again of her innocence, his expression sobered, and he gave a small nod. "I know," he replied simply. And he found he did know, was certain even if a few hours ago his head had been spinning at the thought.

That didn't change the fact, however, that someone did want him dead. Shae had to suppress a shiver from remembering just how close he had come to taking a drink of that wine. Would his death have been quick or slow? He didn't want to consider it too deeply.

The other pressing matter, of course, would be about Beriadanwen. He looked up to Draymont-and now Feledor, who had joined them. They were right about a trial, but..."Does a pardon from the crown still carry weight in the context of attempted assassin?" Shaegar asked, his brow furrowing. "I'll speak on her behalf during the gathering. That should at least do something, shouldn't it?"

It was usually good to go at a problem carefully, like you were peeling back a fruit's skin. Bit by bit, and methodically. Already, Shaegar fell into quiet calculation as he considered the whole thing-the poison, the location where they had found the vial, Beriadanwen's accusation, the trial.

"The vemon wasn't from here," he said, slowly, a thought coming to him. "Whoever got it must have had help from some other place. We have no trade relations with where is was produced." So someone had gone to the trouble of writing to someone else from a different territory, all with the goal of killing him? An entirely different country wanted his head?

".....I feel like Tarthen has something to do with it," Shaegar said, running a hand back through his hair. "I don't know how, but I just feel that."

Ekserma Desert​
He was unflinching as the woman approached, the anger and stung pride he'd been hoping to rouse now clearly present in her expression. That roguish, challenging smirk was still present on his face even as her hand tightened on her weapon, his own resting almost casually on the hilt of his blade. If she weren't trying to kill him, she'd be quite pretty-well, she was pretty either way, but now wasn't exactly the time to focus on that.

His glance flickered back to the chieftain at his confident words, his own voice deceptively polite. "This'll be a first for you then, sir." he replied with a grin, before drawing his sword and returning his gaze to the girl.

She was shorter than him, and of course her build was different due to their opposition in gender. But the toned muscles in her arms and stomach hadn't gone unnoticed to him-it was obvious she'd been training most of her life, not to mention the harsh environment likely adding to her tolerance of pain and her determination to win. But Asher was just as determined. He boasted no firm allegiance to the crown, just so long as they paid him, but his protectiveness over Jasper as well as a thirst to prove his skill drove him on. When the dragon inched closer to him, though, a bit of the color did leave his face. Was there a way to convey to a dragon that you didn't taste good? Probably not, especially considering the arsenic season that would be added in the meantime.

Asher carefully twirled his blade in hand, loosening up his wrist. "What say we go somewhere a little quieter for this, huh?" he asked with a quick wink, sly even in the face of potential death.
 
Shehodorei​

Beriadanwen smiled slightly at Shaegar’s comment, though it was a difficult time but she was glad he had tried to add humor to lighten a somber mood. Looking around, no one seemed to have smiled, all the faces were either at a loss of the situation or quietly judging her. Either she felt like an animal in a cage, which ironically, she was.

“You may be right, a King could do whatever he pleases but a King must also do what he needs.”

She said recalling the many times she hid behind flower pots and doors when waiting for Shaegar while they were children. She would hear the words his father uttered to the boy before, some made no sense to her back then but now, she slowly understood that a King’s job was something not as easy as many make it out to be. There were times where she has heard the newer recruits complained about how difficult their work was, she would only roll her eyes, thinking they had it the easiest compared to many.

Beriadanwen kept her small smile when Shaegar believed she was innocent, she had never lied to him, not once. She saw no benefit of doing so and as a child, she would be too afraid, afraid to lose her only friend in the palace. But now, she had grown and what she was afraid of as a child, it had become part of her and who she is.

“Thank you, Shae.”

She said quietly before turning to face the two older men that were standing close, she sensed their presence being here now was for a different purpose. And with the mention of Tarthen, her head turned towards Shaegar once more. If his words were true, it won't be long till she was accused again for working with the enemy by being a half-bred of a human or something else, one of their own working against them. Such a thought was something she wouldn’t imagine would happen, not when the Blood Elves have so much pride for their own.

“Your word will always be the last say, your majesty. You may pardon her or not, and the court will only be able to advise against it not make the decision. However, I must warn you, to pardon such an accused crime, will not send a good message to them. Especially if they know of your past with the accused.”

Feledor said as he now opened the cellar gates to Messiah’s jail cell, he hated to see the black lion so restricted from what he was used too. Messiah grateful for the kindness as he quickly made his way out of the small cage and rushed into the cell where Beriadanwen was held. Beriadanwen patted her companion’s side while he now remained fairly close to the woman.

“Your majesty, I must fairly warn you. I do make the court your enemy and from your position, Beriadanwen, with your mother’s influence. I doubt this would be easy to break free from, many want to see your mother fall and if they could get it through you, they would.”

The General continued to advise both of them. The many years he has served, he knew and seen it first hand himself. The backstabbing, the internal conflicts, and the hunger and ambitions of many. Even a King was no stranger to such tactics played, and all Feledor could hope for was Shargar to learn fast and for Beriadanwen to understand her situation.

“You may spare her life, but you will not be able to spare your kindness, your majesty. There needs to be a punishment in place unless we can find the culprit.”

Felefar said with a sympathetic voice, he wished he could help more but his hands were tied. The bottle was found in Beriadanwen’s room and there was no explanation of how it was there in the first place, he turned to look at Draymont, hoping he would have a better solution to the case.

“I understand your concerns with Tarthen, your majesty. There are many reasons why you would think such which is also why I have advice you do not ride to Tarthen. However, the morning has come and we must leave before the guards return for Beriadanwen. You have all my blessing child, and whatever comes, I hope your mother is not the woman who I think she is.”

Feledor said before walking back up the stairs, he needed to see that the many court members were informed and maybe persuade some to think otherwise of Beriadanwen. But he sensed his words won’t carry as much weight as some might but all he could do was try to help.

Beriadanwen thank Feledor but her gaze dropped to Messiah, maybe I should accept whatever faith that the Gods have chosen for me. She thought to herself in silence as her hand now never leaving Messiah’s mane.

“I understand you have duties and rules to comply to, your majesty. I do not and will not ask of you to pardon the actions placed on me but to only uphold your duty as a King. I shall not hold it against you.”

She spoke her words, unable to make her smile believable.


Ekserma Desert​

Lilium only wished to wipe that smirk off this man's face, arrogant as he was, she was curious to see how he fairs against her. She wanted to see the face of defeat in him, to watch as he cowers in fear to know he had failed his own. And just like the many of her people now watching, she wanted to show and prove what dragon riders are capable of.

“Your words only betray you. So, stop talking and let's see how good you say you are.”

She spoke as she waved her hand at Issoth, telling it to leave. The dragon got the signal and started to ascend in the air, its wing spread out wide for the winds to catch. It's shadow now visible on the rough hard ground beneath their feet as she was watching with a careful eye.

“Why? You’re afraid to show your face when you lose? If that be it, we have the whole desert for you to pick where I bury your body.”

She now placed her glaive pin to the ground, digging the metal bottom into it hard as her hand held the blade portion up to the sun, causing a glare to the shiny metal blade. She stood firm but her eyes watching his weapon and she only frowned with the wink. Lilium knew men like him, she had met a few in her life but they never did last long between Issoth consuming them or one of her siblings running after them with threats of decapitation. But Lilium knew men like him do not last long in Ekserma Desert.

“What are you waiting for? Everyone is waiting and our dragons can only stay hungry for so long.”

It was Lilium’s turn to ignite something in the man, hopefully, something she could use against him in the match.

Viras and the Chieftain made room for the two but both standing close watch, their eyes never leaving the younger man. They knew what Lilium was capable off but at the same time, they also fear the lost they must face because there will always be someone better.

“Are you sure you want this fight little man? I won’t win, you won’t have us fighting for a King we do not serve.”

She said as she chuckled under her breath, a grin spread across her face with her eyes shining with devilry. Lilium stood as calm as water for the first time since she had met these men, she waited for Asher to make the first step towards her.
 
The quiet smiles between the two of them were soon dissipated as Feledor elaborated on the gravity of the situation. He was right-no matter what way you tried to spin this, it was bad. Even if he was able to grant Beriadanwen pardon, action would still need to be taken against her even if he believed she was innocent. The thought filled him with opposition. Why did he have to punish somebody who he was sure had not done anything wrong?

"Don't start with all that," Shaegar interjected after their chaperones departed, though he had a feeling that Draymont would be waiting for him near the exit. Ahe was quick to jump to the worst conclusion. "You're not going to be executed on my watch."

But she wouldn't be able to escape things unscathed, unless things changed. With a frustrated huff of air through his nose, Shae moved to sit with his back to the stone wall, not far beside Beriadanwen and her faithful companion. It would depend on how much influence Feledor decided to have. If it was both Shaegar and Feledor vouching for her, that would carry some gravity, but it would also have the potential to send the wrong message. The message of favoritism. Those who lived in the castle probably knew of Shaegar and Beriadanwen's friendship, and would be fast to catch the connection.

He didn't want her to be hurt. Was that really so much to ask?

"....But something might have to happen." He added, and this time his voice were quiet, as though he didn't even want to hear himself. He really didn't. Punishment for suspected treason was severe. He was fairly sure, at least in Rowan's time, the punishment was either thirty lashes and subsequent banishment, or fifty, and she would be able to stay there. People had been known to die from being lashed that many times. And he would need to be present in order to stand by that awful choice-he couldn't show himself to be a coward by running away.

Banishment would be the obvious choice. There would be less of a physical punishment, and she would be far from those who would undoubtably harbor resentment, or even hatred. The only thing stalling him from that was his own selfishness.

"Typically," He said, and this time he took on that detached air he had adopted upon their initial reuniting, the one that meant he was hurting. "The punishment for treason of this nature is execution. The next step down is thirty lashes and lifelong banishment."

Shaegar swallowed, his eyes fixated on a bit of dirt settling between the stone floor. His hands remained folded in his lap, fingers laced together, squeezing hard. He wasn't aware that his nails were digging into his hand.

He didn't want her to go. She was the only friend he had.

"When we were younger," he said, clearing his throat, "My father found out about you. The fact that you weren't full elvish, I mean. He was furious-must have gone on an hour long tirade, maybe more. It took everything I had to make him agree to keep it a secret and let you and your mother stay here. It was why I had to stop speaking with you entirely."

"Now," he continued, and this time a hollow laugh left him, "After all that, you'll have to leave anyway."

Ekserma Desert​
His initial though would be that fighting in the sand would be tricky, but hours and centuries of unforgiving sunlight had cooked the top layer into a hard surface, though still crumbling when he placed too much weight on it. It was better than the total lack of traction in the dunes. Carefully, Asher settled himself into a fighting stance, and though the crafty look in his eyes suggested a more roguish style of combat, his posture spoke otherwise-tensed shoulders, a perfect foot stance. He'd been trained classically.

"Can't quite hear you from down there, my lovely," he replied in response to the 'little man' comment-honestly, with her height, who was she trying to fool? But banter wasn't the focus of their current activities. If it was, he wouldn't have been nervous at all.

She was waiting for him. A confident move.

Alright, Asher thought to himself. Let's dance.

Without warning he shifted forward, sword already swinging in a horizontal arc towards the side of her head.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 2 (members: 0, guests: 2)

Similar threads

Dizzy
Fantasy INTERTWINED [private]
Replies
2
Views
51
Dizzy
Dizzy
deer
Fantasy › 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗱𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻.
adventure romance
Replies
1
Views
80
deer
deer
Vimi
Realistic or Modern Tinted Mirrors
magical girls
Replies
0
Views
17
Vimi
Vimi
moonrise
Fandom ATLA: Archive of Water [Closed]
Replies
3
Views
113
Lucyfer
Lucyfer
KeraSoCool
Fandom From Eye To Eye We Meet - 1x1 Pokemon RP
Replies
21
Views
145
Juneberry
Juneberry
Back
Top