For an old alchemist like him, surprises are bad for the heart. Allenwood drinks the wine in big gulps until it is empty. He is like a hooligan savoring his spoils.
He then pisses at the bottle filling it at half mark. He then pours goat piss in it. While chewing herbs of his choosing, he places the cork on the bottle and shakes it. After some time, he stops shaking the bottle. He uncorks it and spits the well-chewed herbs inside.
Allenwood solemnly closes his eyes and chants to the bottle. After a minute or two, he finishes his work.
"Have elves in the dungeon smell it, and they will wake up." He hands the disgusting bottle to the half-elf, Zeraya, who is waiting for him to finish.
Zeraya shows a face of disgust and reluctance, but she persists.
Allenwood watches Zeraya go away, and deal with the poor dungeon elves. He changes into more proper clothes than the rags he wears. He patiently waits for what is ought to happen next. In his idle wait, he gets himself a medium metal pot for himself.
The following events are just procedures, and it is quite a smooth sailing operation. Leading all of them in a secret passageway in the middle of the night are the Elf King and his entourage. Just outside the passageway are lines of already prepared carriages.
From what Allenwood hears, the carriages come from another barony which they destroyed and razed. He is still in disbelief at the veracity of this tall tale. Elves are naturally pacifists because of their unique constitution. But the real problem is always their few numbers.
To be able to bridge the gap from their numbers with technology is incredible. But that doesn't really solve the problem. Allenwood lays his gaze at the crossbows that the elves are carrying, and then his eyes land on the beautiful curves… of the elven women…
Allenwood suppresses his perverse thoughts. As he is now too old for that kind of act, his libido is lower than they are before. Still, his imprisonment in the dungeon is an everyday torturous event. He'd rather hear blood, gore, and screaming.
"I don't want to go!" A woman elf shouts in anger.
Allenwood realizes there is an argument among the elves. They are arguing about who should go and guide the rescued elves back to Lorekleim Forest.
"Lafira, you are pregnant. You should go!"
"Yes, from a human seed. I would rather go to war than concern myself with the filthy thing inside me! You should know, Lameya. You are fucking sullied too!"
"That's not a nice thing to say."
Allenwood watches in amusement. In his opinion, all of them should just go and return to the forest where they are safe and far from trouble. From what he hears, all of this is for the sake of revenge but that just makes it more laughable.
Gathering an army to exact revenge is nothing short of inviting death to all of the elves in Ezelea continent. The argument was about to devolve into a catfight… A catfight with axes and swords.
Before it becomes bloody, the King intervenes.
In the end, an elf woman from the rescued elves volunteers to lead them back to the Lorekleim Forest. She claims to be a past inhabitant of the Lorekleim Forest. The captive elves from the dungeons actually come from different forests all sold into the black market for others to bid.
The Lorekleim Elf woman being among the rescued elves is just a happy coincidence… a silver lining…
Many of the rescued elves wish to fight with the King, but the King rejects their request as they would just be a burden for them with their malnourished body and most of the women are pregnant. They are just burdens, plain and simple.
Not Allenwood though… Allenwood is an asset, and he knows it too...
Allenwood is reluctant at first when the so-called King invites him. He is doubtful of the gray hair's claim to the title. Still, Allenwood agrees in the end and joins the march.
As they separate from the rescued elves, he closely observes the gray hair and the dark hair. A plan slowly forms in Allenwood's mind.
Midway.
They stop their march and have their horses rest. Dawn is almost upon them, and they will need the rest. They come to a terrain where some trees scatter. The elves perch on the trees, and some divide themselves to work on their tasks.
Allenwood volunteers to cook the food using the pot he was carrying since leaving the Zaun manor.
With a sleight of the hand, Allenwoood sneakily works on the aphrodisiac he stole from the manor. He is trying to make a derivative out of it— a love potion.
Allenwood distributes the food to the elves. He of course prioritizes the 'King' for obvious reasons. Allenwood sees the King with Zeraya under the leaves of the trees.
It looks like the King is playing with grass and dirt, and is talking something about camouflage.
"This is for the good of the elves…" Allenwood thinks to himself drugging the two plates with his potion.
Allenwood hands a wooden plate full of rabbit stew to Zeraya and the King. He makes sure to be one step ahead and gets these two wooden plates from the two's own baggage they left on their horses. Every elf has a plate for their own use, and so are the King and his bodyguard.
The Elf King is too ferocious for his own good. Allenwood wishes that this young man sees reason and turns back now before it is too late. Maybe if the King has a special someone, he would think twice before throwing himself into the fire.
…
"Thank you," I perfunctorily say to Allenwood as I receive my share of the food. "Let's eat." I rub my hands cleaning off the dirt from it. I take a handful of the stew in my hand and shove it in my mouth. It is dirty, but I am getting used to this.
Still, for others to serve me food is quite a privilege for a King. Moreover, there is a beauty accompanying me while eating. This is life! That really doesn't change anything since my shut-in neet days as mom usually gives me something to eat even if I don't ask her.
After engulfing the Urdens in flames and doing the necessary stuff, having proper utensils would be my next highest priority.
Zeraya sitting beside me criticizes my behavior. "What are you? A monkey? Where is your wooden spoon?"
"I lost it," I casually reply to her.
When it is just the two of us, we tend to be more casual. I prefer it this way because it is a good way for me to relax from my Kingly ways.
Zeraya offers me her wooden spoon, but I shake my head at her gesture. "I would rather not. I cannot have a half-elf's filthy saliva dirty my tongue. My hands are far nobler than your spoon."
"…"
The awkward silence ceases as Zeraya comes up with a jibe on her own. "Forgive me, your majesty. I just wish to tell you that the old alchemist played with his urine, and drenching wet goat piss to make the 'cure' for the poor sex-crazed elves."
I choke on my food. Zeraya panics at my reaction. She rubs my back and helps me. As I gather my calm and wits, I comment. "He is a good cook though."
Zeraya laughs at my words, slight wetness in her eyes. I smile.
We continue to eat peacefully. We finish our food and lie on the tree. For some reason, the stars tonight are quite bright. I recall the day we attacked the bandit village. It was a starless night unlike this. Will these stars watch over us as we partake in the grand undertaking we are about to do?
"Zeraya, why did you not stop me when I killed baron Zaun… I could have tortured him, you know… After all, he has done very evil things, he should have suffered more…" I am still bitter about it.
Zeraya didn't hesitate to answer my petty regret. "Because it will twist you, your majesty… You are a King, not a torturer… I cannot have my King die against himself… I like my King now the best. And I believe this 'King' is what the elves will need for the future to come."
This is like... the most words Zeraya talks to me. Will she open up to me now? I would love to learn more about her, but since saving her back in Clearwater Village, she has been evasive about her past.
However.
Instead of giving an answer to my curiosity, she suddenly throws a question at me. "What is it that drives you, your majesty? For you to continue doing this? What allows you to do this?"
I hesitate to answer, but for some reason, there is this unknown force pushing me to open up to her. I look at the empty wooden plate. Did the old alchemist put something in this?
I answer her in the end. "It is false bravado…"
If I will be lying just like any other time, I would answer her that it is 'revenge' that is driving me to do this, but no. I lack the abilities for me to take revenge. That is why I rely on my false bravado. All too suddenly, this bravado is becoming more than just a lie. Its falseness is starting to become vague. And the longer I continue on doing this, the more I start to believe myself… that I am King…
My false bravado was able to drive me this far.
Zeraya hums softly. "I don't understand what you mean, your majesty." She looks at me, and I look at her. Dark ebony hair like the starless nights weeks ago, deep dark eyes that possess a strong soul, and fair skin nevertheless have blemishes of battles.
The blood of an elf flows in her veins through and through— she is beautiful.
"Do you know what drives me, your majesty?" Uttering this rhetorical question out loud, Zeraya gives me her answer. "It is 'hope' that drives me, your majesty…" Her eyes are gleaming wet with tears, biting her lips lightly at the recollection of a distant memory, she confesses to me her story.
"I wasn't always a Clearwater elf. The love story of my parents is as tragic as it is romantic. I lived with my father in my first 40 years, until he died of a terminal illness… The gods took away his breath. After that, I went to search for my mother… and I found her in the Lorekleim Forest… She accepted me with love, and so is her village. As I was fighting the raiders until morning comes, structures suddenly fell on me. Pinned under the structures, I was in despair. When morning comes, I suddenly fell on the lake with the wooden debris on top of me. The only thought I have while I drown on that lake was my mother's fate as she was taken away by the raiders. I was hoping she is alive which is why I joined your war.
"However when I realized what you are capable of, I come to hope for more than just saving my mother. I come to hope for a home for all elves to gather. Half-elf or just elf… We'd come to you calling you our King, and we will revere you as the first Elven King! I know I am too lowly to say this as I am just your errand girl, but I truly wish in my heart not to lose this hope. So please, do not unnecessarily twist yourself.
"I… I was there, your majesty... When you did 'it' to Wisley… To those human infants… I was there. I heard it all... The only thing you need to do is ask, and I will do it. You don't have to dirty your hands like that…"
In the end, Zeraya's reason takes over her emotions. She closes her eyes and internally calms herself. She opens her eyes once more and looks at me as if nothing unusual happened. "Forgive me, your majesty… I shouldn't have said those things…"
I lean to Zeraya, taking a good look into her eyes. I don't know why but there is this mysterious force attracting me to her. Zeraya similarly leans forward, and our noses touch.
Under the starry night, the two of us share a kiss.