It was late noon by the time the bird returned with a response, a butler fetched the letter from the messenger boy. The boy ran and stopped just in front of the King's office door. He knocked gently and a booming but muffled voice told him to enter. The boy walked through the door bowing and holding the letter out, The king had no need to as for her saw to seal of Lennox on the paper. Zestarri walked over and peered at the letter, "Open it, my love." The King opened it with little hesitation his eyes scanning the paper.
"By the heavens Zesta, the barbarians agreed." He continued reading they would meet in between the two kingdoms near a city that lined the border, there was a shop there and it was mutual territory for them. He immediately made plans to leave. This meant that soon the two kingdoms would be at ease, but for which child they'd wed that in itself was something that needed to be discussed.
By mid-afternoon, rumors of joining up with the Elves were already whispering among the servants and soldiers in the barracks. Alistair couldn't stop the rumors even if he wanted to, such a great event unfolding between two Empires, would not go unnoticed by its citizens. It wouldn't be right to leave the House of Delafontaine's out of the loop, the King ensured that they would be getting an invitation to the table—if there would be one. Calliope stormed out of the war room after the letter left, she heavily scrutinized his actions, and this left them on bad terms for the moment. She was hanging out in the back lawn, where a large garden was kept, and a natural waterfall cascaded down the cliff it was perched on. Alistair, on the other hand, was up in his chambers, looking out from the glass-stained window, upon the many buildings that harbored his citizens. The people looked greatly up to their King, happy to lend a helping hand in the wars that were fought when it came to defending their homelands.
While he remained there, he thought of whom would make his best offer. Which of his children would be strong enough, willing, and unbiased in this peace-keeping opportunity? He shifted his gaze over to the large building towards the east, it's where all the soldiers were accommodated, and where their training would continue. Under the beat down of the sun's rays, a certain fair-haired male, eyes resembling that of his father's, and an unquenched thirst to do good in this world, was training. Or more like he was training fresh recruits who joined the Royal Army nearly a fortnight ago.
With a swoop of his leg, the recruit landed on his back in the dirt. A loud 'oof!' could be heard as Archie's sword was now pointing at the recruit's neck. The Prince sheathed his sword and help the male to his feet, he dusted him off, "You need to work on your stance. Your posture is all wrong. If this would've been a real fight, you'd be dead in the first minute." He gave pointers.
The recruit took it to heart, nodding his head, and gave a smile, "You really don't seem like our future King." The young male remarks.
He flashes the boy a grin, and pats him on the back, "Let's get you sparring with junior over here. Practice what I said, and you'll improve in no time." He said. The recruit departs to join the other recruit to spar in the pit.
"They're getting fiercer." A rough, soft-spoken voice speaks beside the Prince, startling him for a moment.
"Just what we need." Archie retorts, "Never know when a real war might start. Gotta be ready." He spares a glance at his best friend, Rolant.
"You hear the rumors that your father's crazy enough to join with the saplings in the North." Rolant brings up.
Archie shakes his head, "I'm not here to stand and gossip like the maids." He looks out as the two recruits butt swords together; the clanging of steel continues. "Besides, my father can't be foolish enough to join up 'em, anyhow. Our recent war on the border is proof enough of not to join with the kinfolk."
"Tell that to him when you see him." Rolant crosses his arms, he yells at the recruit to fix his stance again.
Archie lets out a smile, he looks to the sun using his hand to shield from its glare. Several gulls flew in the air, a flock of birds just flying overhead. The sounds of grunts, metal clanging, and yells from Rolant remained throughout the remaining of his afternoon.
—
"Preposterous!" King of Delafontaine yelled, he tossed the scroll to his second-in-command. The smaller male took it, reading over the contents, handwritten in scrawl by the King's very hand.
"I don't understand. Why so sudden?" His second-in-command inquires, looking over as his Lord storms around the table.
"He's been losing his wits about him lately. Alistair, proposing to align ourselves with the-the- those spineless twigs in the North!" His King was frustrated and slumped into the chair at the head of the table. His head throbbed just by thinking about allying with those knife ears that lurked on his borders. Just a few months ago, he sent some of his best soldiers to die by the hand of those tree hippies—they were ambushed before they even knew what hit them. They had to repair the border recently because of those darned elves, who had the upper hand with their innate ability to magic, magic!
The second-in-command poured his Lord, a goblet of the fine wine, placing it in front of him. He took the seat beside him; he placed the parchment to the side and looked to King Delafontaine.
"We should look at the benefits it suggests. The Elves propose sharing natural minerals from their end of the realm, training our soldiers' techniques we've not known for a long time, and even magical ability to—"
"Goddess' in hell!" His King interrupted, tossing the goblet aside as his advice. He wore a face of disgust, wrinkles apparent. "There's no way on Gaia, the knife ears don't have some plan of attack. This might as well be like the time during Azu's time on the throne when he, stupidly, took the damn presents without checking them first. The damn tree huggers were in the boxes. I mean, it's clever. I'll give 'em that, but we've been disputing as long as the Goddess gave us life."
"But think about the families of the soldiers who fought for your cause. The citizens who unquestioningly send their sons to fight for your wars just so they can get some semblance of peace." His second-in-command is already pouring him another goblet of wine and bringing it over. "And you know the rumors about the darkness coming back."
He retook his seat when his Lord drew in a long sip of his wine, giving his adviser a look. "I went to look for myself."
He nearly choked on his drink, "W'dya mean?!"
"Just beyond the Haunted Forest, there's a lake that exists in the heart of it." He recalls as the memory plays back in his mind.
He was with an entourage of six—himself and five soldiers. They trekked through the thicket of the Haunted Forest for two days, and decided to take shelter on the second night. During the night, they heard nothing, not a sound of the insects, or even the animals that supposedly lived within the vicinity. Then, the sound of something cracking in the distance. One of the soldiers left to check it out, but he never returned. The Adviser was awakened to find three spooked soldiers, and two missings. In the morning, he sent the soldiers back on horses, taking the remains of the soldiers that went missing and continued on his own. It might've been a foolish move on his part, but he knew he'd rather not get more sad faces of mothers who lost their children to an unknown entity. He continued for another day and finally reached the heart of the forest.
"The Lake was black, darker than a starless night, and darker than the dungeons." He recalled.
In the lake, something moved beneath the surface, disturbing it with a splash to the right. His head snapped in that direction, only to find nothing there. The Adviser continued on foot since his horse didn't budge from its spot.
"I continued, even as I was frightened of what lurked in that lake. I knelt beside the bank, trying to find the source of the disturbance."
The memory played; he was kneeling beside the bank of the black lake. His chocolate irises searching its surface, only to find nothing. He stood, the eerie feeling of being watched wasn't going away. Even as he was ready to turn away from the lake, something jumped out of it. He struggled against the black, slimy appendage that latched itself onto his arm. The second-in-command yanked his arm back with enough force to go flying into the ground, near ten feet from the lake. He looked up in time to see the thing sliding back beneath the black, murky lake's surface.
The Adviser rolled up the sleeve on his right arm, revealing circular, black spots that were seeping into his veins, "Whatever that thing was, it was not of this world."
The King nearly jumped out of his chair at the way it looked. ��What the—"
"And whatever it was, the darkness is getting closer each time we leave the Haunted Forest unguarded." The Adviser rolls his sleeve back down, "Please, my lord, we need to ally ourselves with the Elves. I've been reading the medical books, trying to find a cure for the poison that's in my arm, and have found none. I don't wish to alarm you, sir, but I feel I may not make it before the semi-annual ball. I know how much it means to your daughter should I attend and have the first dance with her."
The King knows he's right, and he accepts the love that's evident between the two. His Adviser came from House Beaumont, one of the more prestigious noble houses that controlled parts of the Eastern realms. And his family held large sway within the court, and with King Alistair. His death would not look good on his resume nor his kingdom.
"Fine, fine." The King, finished the rest of his wine, "Get me a damn scribe! I'm going to get you that cure, one way or another." The Older Delafontaine said as he locked gazes with the Beaumont heir.
"Thank you, my lord." He gives a small, warming smile. The darkness was just, one of many, of the enemies that wished to see their Kingdoms turned to dust. And if this alignment with the dew drinkers gave them more resources and power, then he wouldn't be opposed to it. Besides, he already had his own spies lurking in the halls of Kingdom of Uenora, and the Wood Elves were having their own problems against the shadows that were making a comeback from beneath the locked seal of six.