The sunset in the forest of Tyria is beautiful, gentler than the sunlight anywhere in Saraf, and from the observation deck of the royal court, the twilight light with a sweet, cheese-like hue spreads over the entire elven city, reflecting the city like a citrine dotted in the middle of the rainforest.
But in the field of vision of the elven maiden standing in front of the fence, see not the beautiful veil of light, but a curtain symbolizing death and despair. The stage behind the curtain is staging a poignant opera of civilization's decline and decay. The three human kingdoms to the east and south of the Tyrian forest, strung together in a dozen small city-states, have completely blocked off the elves.
The elf turned around, moving with grace and dignity, the princess crown on her forehead, decorated with yarmulke leaves and mossy onyx, shining brightly, announcing the status of its wearer. The young girl gave a salute to her father, the king of the Elves, who was walking toward her. The princess was to fight his father, her rival, today in a duel of tongues that might affect the future of 110,000 elves.
The Elven King nodded in return, and he said in a serious and uncomfortably loving tone, "Good day, Drusillia. You do not know how beautiful the sight I just saw, the sunset penetrating from the lookout to form a honey-colored backlight, your figure is close to perfection no matter which angle you look at, you should really let the court painter keep it."
"Your compliments really make me happy, Father. Did you know that the eastern settlement was attacked again yesterday by a human slave-catching party, and three of our countrymen were taken." Drusillia's expression was not at all happy, and it was rude to start another topic.
Oh, how reckless and blunt, the Elven King was helpless: "I understand that the Ranger's bow also left the bodies of seven slave catchers, may they atone for their sins in the Kingdom of God." The Elf King mentioned the gods, implying an end to the topic.
Druhiria ignored it and said, "I wish you to grant me the authority to lead 500 Forest Rangers in pursuit to retrieve my compatriots and destroy the human slave catchers' stronghold."
The Elf King's tone was less than loving: "How will you find the strongholds, they are on the outskirts of the Tyrian Forest."
"I followed the slave catchers to the northeast of the king's court, 50 sari out of the forest, a small fortress."
"It was a fortress, as you say, and you were going to have the rangers sack it with bows and bayonets?"
"It has never been attacked and is loosely guarded, I have full confidence."
"O Liya, Liya." The Elf King pointed out mercilessly, "Have you ever thought about how many 500 elite rangers would be lost to rescue 3 elves! 30? Or even 50?"
"Thought about it, but it was worth it." The elf maiden's voice was soft, but the content was almost cold.
"What!" The Elf King was shocked until this point.
"Father! Please take a closer look at your kingdom!" The young girl raised her hand and pointed beyond the observation deck, looking as if the doctor was urgently pointing out the malignant tumor on the body to the patient. "Our trade is blocked, our force is weakening, and the elves can only stand within the dividing line between the forest and the plains and watch in agony as their loved ones are taken away, imagining the abuse and torture they suffer and doing nothing about it! The chanters no longer sang, the technicians no longer wove, and the elves who had lost their loved ones wandered about like ghosts, spreading trepidation and fear to all."
"Our spirits will die before our flesh, before the humans kill them all! My fellow citizens need a military campaign, a decisive and harsh attack, to show the elven people throughout the forests of Tyria that hope is not lost! The royal army can still protect them, and the foreigners will not be able to move an inch in the forest! What will it take to awaken the dormant spirit of elven resistance, the blade, the glory, and even ..." Drusilla paused, "the blood."
The Elven King silently pursed his thin lips, which made him look very majestic. It seems that as the Elven King consolidates the forces within his clan, his daughter is no longer a child pampering her father with a shortbow and a book of poetry; the harsh reality has created a warrior ... or idealist.
Drusillia proudly stared at her father, like a gladiator with a long sword, ready to meet the next thrust from his opponent. No reason can stop me, the princess said to herself. Unfortunately, the king threw a heavy hammer instead of a thrusting sword.
"We have no more weapons."
"What!" It was the princess' turn to be stunned, a reason she hadn't considered at all.
"The iron ore hasn't been in the Tyrian Forest since the Emberhammer Dwarves cut us off, and the Elven Charmers haven't forged new weapons in a long time. The rangers on patrol have actually been alternating between scimitars and short swords for a long time. O my daughter, do you think that as the king of Tia's 110,000 elves, I would be indifferent to my own people? Go ask the guard at the gate, see if he dares to pull out his weapon, the part inside the scabbard is made of chestnut wood! Most of the metal weapons of the royal family were given to the forest rangers. I can't have people knowing that half of the army of Tyria Forest is already bare-handed, both internally and externally."
The Elven King softened his tone slightly to make him sound less serious. "If I give you 500 rangers, then at least 150 sari's defenses will have to be defended with wood, knowing that there are enemies not only to the east ... Recently the craftsmen are secretly rushing to make a batch of bone arrow clusters, hoping to fill the gap... ..."
Drusillia sat slumped in her high-backed chair with cruel ramblings in her ears. The elves' predicament was ten times worse than she had expected, not only had destroying the stronghold become a delusion, but even the army was no longer in a position to strike! ... Bone arrow clusters? How sad that a 50,000 year old elven civilization should degenerate to the same level of weapons as the highland barbarians surrounded by animal skins.
The elven king stretched out his long and delicate palm to hold his daughter's hand, rubbing Drusilla's fingertips with his warm, dry palm, as he did when he was a child. "Child, that is not your responsibility, the Elders and I can hold up the sky of the Tyrian forest, human aggression will not last long."
The young girl closed her eyes, long and curved eyelashes trembled slightly, and leaned against her father's arms with a grace. The elf king heard that empty comfort did not work, he needed to change the subject, just like when he was a child with an elegant and gentle sonnet to make her break into tears.
"Leah, how did you track down the human stronghold, the royal guards didn't have sharp weapons but they didn't replace their eyes with chestnut wood either - you stayed in the attic yesterday."
"Because of Poirot."
"Poirot?" There was a long list of his daughter's suitors, but every handsome elven king knew that it did not include a silly boy named Poirot, not to mention that the name did not fit the naming convention of the Tyrian elves.
Drusillia whistled, and a white-feathered short-tailed magpie flew into the lookout, landing on the princess's free side shoulder and chirping away. This is a very common forest songbird, small but short flight able-bodied.
"Pollo is more intelligent than other birds, in addition to ladybugs and pine nuts it can remember a lot of things, I let it tail humans all the way ..." the elf king dotingly looked at his daughter to talk about how to use a short-tailed magpie to complete a full set of ranger scouting work, said, the smile And back to Liya face, her amber eyes showed a gentle flame, her face showed two lovely smile nest, on the light green hair also seems to be in her beautiful and bold happy fluttering up.
This is my green capital emerald stone, passionate fighter is not for her. The Elf King tried to otherwise sound like an exhortation: "Liya, your conversation with Poirot let it be a secret for the three of us, okay? Especially not for the priests of the temple to know."
Once again the smile faded from Drusilla's face, the temple teachings say that elves are creatures of God, holy and pure, the language of elves is subtle and mysterious, any use of elven language to foreigners, even a bird, is disrespectful and blasphemous to God.
"Father, I respect the gods as ultimately you do, but that does not mean the pantheon can impose its faith on me. If it wasn't for the stereotypical closed doctrine of the pantheon, how could we have broken off relations with the dwarves. If the priests want to condemn me to blasphemy for reciting a book of poetry to a short-tailed magpie, let them!"
The elf king's eyebrows tangled like a pair of crossed rapiers, and he really didn't want to start the argument all over again. Just let someone come or something happen, as long as it gives him a legitimate reason to get out of here.
"Gah!"
Poirot let out an exaggerated chirp so high it was out of tune, then fell straight off Liya's shoulders, his head tucked into a ball inside his feathers, shivering. This is not a cry of grief, but a mournful shriek that suddenly finds itself at the fishy mouth of a tree python, but, there will be no snakes in the watchtower of the royal court.
In the next instant, the minds of the elven father and daughter seemed to be crushed by a rolling torrent. Even being surrounded by ten rainforest split-toothed panthers glaring at them, there is no such extreme sense of oppression. As if the whole world wants to squeeze you into a ball, fear, anxiety, tension mixed together, the two elves feel the mental suffocation.
The sense of oppression suddenly disappeared, father and daughter took a sharp breath. The twilight of the lookout turned from light to dark, and then from dark to light. The two elves ran to the lookout and leaned on the handrail to look out.
A huge, irregular block of shadow swept across the green capital, and chickens flew everywhere it passed. Drusillia raised her head hard to see what was blocking the sunlight. The first thing that caught the eye was a large golden scale armor, spreading all the way to the long tail. The huge scaly wings of inverted triangle shape, the tangled and powerful majestic bones, and the air currents cutting through the surface of the wing membrane produced a loud rumbling sound.
"Dragon!" The young girl's voice was full of amazement.
"Dragon ..." The father's voice tone was filled with heaviness.
But in a few breaths, the huge dragon beast flew out of the Green Capital territory. The majestic form kept heading north and soon disappeared from sight. Not of poor eyesight, the elf could clearly distinguish the types of birds flying in the distance, but the dragon lowered its height and was obscured by the lush old trees.
The elf king and Drusilla stared closely at the end of the bird commotion and exchanged a worried look in unison.
It was too close.
"Less than 50 sari, at the speed of that dragon, it would fly to the green capital in the blink of an eye, not even enough time to set up defenses."
The princess affirmed, "That location is a small river valley, and I know it well. Father, the rangers can get close enough to scout him at nightfall, and I can ..."
"You can't!" The Elf King's refusal was harsh and dry. "Scouting is not a matter for the princess, not to mention that no one understands how dangerous this long-extinct creature in Saraf is. You are not going anywhere, stay here and I will watch over you personally."
Drusillia bowed her head obediently, lest the exuberant glint in her eyes be seen.