Located in the middle of the Elven forest, a blonde Elf stood in an exquisitely crafted house located near the top of the trees. The house was well-hidden and placed in a strategic position such that one was able to see the vast expanse of the forest, but it would be hard for others to locate.
Not only strategically positioned, it had been laden with various spells, formations and traps. This was the house of the last remaining High Elf, His Majesty the King of Elves.
Helce knelt respectfully, her head lowered, blonde hair almost touching the floor. Though not a word was spoken to allow her out of her kneeling posture, the Elf remained without moving a single muscle nor fidgeting.
Her eyes were respectfully directed towards the ground, and her long ears trembled in anticipation and fear.
"Rise," she finally heard. The voice was cold, emotionless, but it held the vestiges of the grace and majesty from the King himself.
Smoothly, the Elf moved out of her position in an elegant manner, rising from the ground, but maintained a bowing and respectful position.
"My King," Helce murmured, wanting ever so badly to look at His Majesty's grandeur, but refrained from doing so. The last time she had done so, she received a deep cut to her face that could not be healed as a warning.
Though the scar she obtained was from overstepping her boundaries, she wore it with pride. In an odd, twisted sense, she felt happy that she contained the mark of the King, Zephyr.
His Majesty the King of Elves sat on his throne, but there was only himself and Helce in the room. Helce used to hope that she had been regarded as special by the King, but she knew better now.
She had been chosen out of so many not because she held a special significance in the King's heart, but because she had never once overstepped her boundaries, leaving the King alone where she should.
She did not touch him, did not dare to look at him for more than a brief glance. She carried out all of his orders to perfection, and most importantly, did not ever try and exert any influence over him.
Though the ministers of court tried to impeach the King for more heirs, His Majesty remained silent over such matters, as if it did not matter that he was the last High Elf, and last of the Royal lineage.
"Report," His Majesty said shortly, but she was used to it.
"Things are progressing quicker than we thought. The filthy undead are doing their roles well and doing it quickly. Some of them are even going out during the day to wreck more cities and villages.
"A total of 159 of them have reached the Fifth Circle, 90 at the Sixth Circle, 41 at the Seventh, and 4 at the Eighth," Helce paused, finishing her summary.
Though she could not see his expression, the atmosphere in the room grew heavier, and she knew that he was displeased. She reigned in her reflex to reassure him that more of them would advance to appease him. From what she had garnered, the last Elf who did that died a messy death.
Though she would not hate leaving the world from His Majesty personally killing her, she craved to stay at his side for as long as he would let her. She wanted to see His Majesty's face when she finally stood with him at the start of a new world.
"Bring that lich to me."
Helce secretly grit her teeth. "Yes, Your Majesty." As displeased as she was with his decision, her voice was still soft and compliant.
Had it only been the strange habits of wearing excessively gaudy, revealing clothing and wearing obscene amounts of makeup that did not suit her at all, she could handle it. There were stranger things that she could have taken up, but the blasted lich had grown more and more delusional as time went on.
It became startlingly apparent when Helce made a random drop in to check over progress, only to find that the lich had taken to changing around random undead as her 'lover'.
Had she not stopped her, Helce was even worried that the lich might try to break into Cosmos City unnecessarily and before they were truly ready, trying to abduct her so-called lover.
To counter this, she had left behind a couple of capable subordinates to look after the demented lich. Sometimes, she wondered whether or not they had really brought the intended person back whole. The more she thought about it, the more it felt like the mind brought back had been fractured in the process.
Unfortunately, there were no other viable options available to them at this stage, and the undead were almost solely under her rule.
The other lich that they had managed to procure was only able to handle a pitiful amount of undead before he had overloaded and went insane, joining the roaming undead in their terror of the living.
Apparently, that the so-called 'love crazy' one that they procured the first time was gifted and excelling in the necromancy that was needed, and they could scarcely hope that they would be able to luck out and find another exceptionally gifted one.
As such, the Elves had no choice but to acquiesce to some of her less outrageous demands. However, the lich did not need to know that, and they made sure that they never gave a hint that she could obtain more should she try to push.
Helce stepped out of the throne room, sending a mental message to her subordinates.
"Bring that crazy lich here. His Majesty wants to see her."
"Yes, Lady Helce!"
Different from the way she spoke to His Majesty the King of Elves, Helce's voice was cold and indifferent, containing none of her emotions. The change was so startling that no one would have realized that they were the same person had they witnessed the before and after.
Five minutes after she gave the command, three people teleported to the bottom of the house. It was a special permission that she had given to her subordinates so that they wouldn't be killed by the house's various defences.
She always wondered why His Majesty only wanted to stay in this little house instead of the grand and more majestic one back in the village, but she was grateful for it, because this way, she would be able to be close to His Majesty.
Two Elves stood side by side to the filthy lich. She nodded at them, and they respectfully bowed to her before teleporting away.
Helce took in the lich before her, feeling the upsurge swell of disgust that she usually did. At least this time, the lich hadn't made a fuss to bring her 'lover' with her to see His Majesty as well. She had grown so angry at that time that she had nearly cut down the filthy lich on the spot. To think that she wanted to bring an even filthier lowly undead with her to pay her respects to His Majesty!
"Oh, if it isn't Lady Helce!" the lich said in a grating tone.
Helce clenched her teeth, pulling her lips back into a snarl that looked uncharacteristically out of place on an Elf's elegant face.
"Hehehe!" the lich laughed, and Helce had to fight the urge to cut her down where she stood once more.
Without any delicacy or finesse, Helce grabbed the lich's bony arm, instantly bringing them outside of His Majesty's throne room.
The doors opened without her prompting, and the two females headed in.
"Your Majesty," Helce said respectfully, kneeling again.
The lich, on the other hand, did not kneel.
"Insolent!" Instantly, Helce cast a heavy gravitation spell onto the lich's body, forcing her to the ground.
The lich let out a mad shriek of anger, struggling, but was unable to cast off the spell.
"Enough."
Helce reluctantly let off the lich, but not before she crashed again heavily.
"Helce, leave us."
The Elf struggled not to say anything as she rose from her kneeling position, leaving the room. The doors shut behind her with a thud, and her insides boiled with rage. The lich had no sense of propriety at all! How could she be left alone with only His Majesty?
More than that, what it His Majesty got angry at something the lich said and killed her on the spot? Though she didn't think that was likely, His Majesty wasn't always entirely rational. Considering how much of their plans rested on the lich's shoulders, the fate of the Elves' plans would be in jeopardy should the lich die.
Torn between wanting to be rid of the lich and wanting to see His Majesty's plans succeed, Helce found herself in a dilemma.
The next time the throne room doors opened, the lich flounced out, her long dress swirling behind her as it trailed on the floor. She was heard before she was seen, and Helce schooled her emotions.
Without sparing her another glance, the lich left the house, and her gold, glittery dress trailed on the floor, like a reflection of how Helce's emotions got dragged and tugged around in her wake.
Everything had been so much easier when His Majesty had not insisted on meeting the lich several times.