Galen 'Valor' Urden is a very ambitious lord.
Courting war since his youth, he grows into becoming a great noble in service to his kingdom. After he suppresses the barbarian demi-humans and repels invaders from the other kingdoms as a young heir to a viscounty, he becomes the renowned hero that everyone respects in the Fendra province.
However, all of his efforts and patriotism are merely repaid by the late King with the shallow middle name 'Valor' and on top of that, a very insignificant rise in his father's title from viscount to count.
Not even gold, even a small plot of land, or any physical asset— his father and he is very indignant about that hateful memory.
It might just be Galen being petty, but even now, he has this disgust toward royalty.
Galen is very keen on the following suppression that the royalty forced on his family back then. The difficulties that follow come as swift as the wind. As Galen is very young at that time and only knows the honest ways, he remains steadfast with his beliefs, chivalry, and loyalty to the King.
If he can scold his old self, he will tell the young Galen how naïve and blind he is to the truth,
"I wonder if my old man would be proud of me now…" In a luxurious mansion, a middle-aged man with dark brown hair and a glorious beard looks from above the balcony. Just below him is the invited aristocrats of the neighboring territory.
The sound of moaning and crying of pleasure resounds in the mansion. Elven women accompany the noble lords, and without restraint, they engage in the immoral and carnal pleasure of the flesh.
"Your father will be surely proud of you, Count Galen. Under your name, you are able to unite every noble of the Fendra province. You are a hero that will be sung by bards for generations to come." Conversing with Galen is an old man with graying sideburns and a gentle face. As the Duke of Fendra, he possesses incredible power and sway.
Despite that power, he is respectful of Count Urden. Though he is a Duke, the Count has more clout among the aristocrat faction for a simple reason— Galen has a lot of elves... which are very luxurious commodities to the whole Ezelea continent.
The elves that Galen sells are particularly of high quality as they are obedient, beautiful, and rarely with flaws. Even the courtesans below are of high quality. For the old duke who should not be functioning down under to feel arousal is evidence enough of this high quality that noble aristocrats speak of.
Galen scoffs at the duke's pretentiousness. "You jest, Duke Yornas. If you truly appreciate my goods, surely you will try tasting one of them. I invited every noble to my abode to discuss a simple matter. Sending the most beautiful elf I have in possession is a gesture of goodwill on my part, yet you reject it. Don't be so righteous. What harm is there in bedding one of my products? It is not like I would have you killed."
Duke Yornas can feel Count Urden's animosity, but the old duke simply takes it like a harmless breeze… because it is. With a murderous gleam in the duke's eyes, he gives a stern warning to the count. "You have crossed the line. There is no need for you to destroy the Lorekleim Forest. The walls have ears, Count Urden! If you don't deal with the spy on your fief, our plans might fall short of success. You do know I've put my trust in you for the fate of all the aristocrats here."
"…" The duke falls into silence and takes one good breath to calm his nerves. "If it annoys you that I didn't try your 'goods', then I apologize. I would like to reason that I am too old for that, but as you can see I am still strong. Consider this as wisdom from those who have walked this earth longer than you."
Count Galen 'Valor' Urden just hums softly for the duke to continue.
"Count Urden… The elves are a beautiful race. They are just like flowers. Even their harmless and weak nature resembles flowers. But do you know? There are some flowers in this world that have a poisonous nature that at the touch of your hand, it will get itchy, sometimes even give you intoxication, and worst case, makes you addicted to them. I don't want to be on the receiving end of these flowers."
The duke bitterly smiles as if recalling an old memory.
This didn't escape Galen's observation. The truth is he is just testing the old man, and Galen just wants to make it clear who is in charge here in the whole Fendra province. At the words of the duke, Galen boisterously laughs as he erases the tense air around them
He friendly pats the duke's head still laughing loudly. "There is no need to be so gloomy. The festivities will last for three days, and you might change your mind later. Our goods aren't so poisonous! I am sure you would love them if you will just give up your pants. Anyway, it is good to know that you still have my back."
After some pleasantries, Galen leaves the mansion and returns to his estate manor. "Where is my son?" He asks the soldier waiting by the manor gates.
The soldier makes a salute by umping his fist into his chest. "He is in the training grounds, lord."
Galen heads for the training grounds, and the first thing he does is carry a wooden spear and hurls it at his son, Garus, who is practicing his sword swings. Garus feels the swooshing wind and is barely able to react on time by rolling on the dirt. He frowns at the sight of his angry father who grabs a wooden sword from the shelves.
"Father, how may I help you?" Garus plainly asks, but he already has a suspicion in his heart as to why his father is angry.
Galen has a buff body, and his musculature is something that blood and iron have been refining for a long time. "Garus! What did I tell you about minding your business?"
"I am minding my business, father. I am doing as my mother thought me! To be righteous, chivalrous, and always follow my heart so that I can become a good lord." Garus answers back.
The father and son engage in combat. Garus has the talents of a swordsman and is a capable fighter despite his tender age of only 18 years old, but Galen as a true, tried, and tested warrior far surpasses what Garus is capable of.
After breaking the sword of his son, Galen is one step away from beating his only heir black and blue. The only reason he didn't is that he loves his son so much. As the only 'trace' of his long-dead wife, Galen treasures his son very much.
"Garus, kill your sympathies for the elf kind. They don't deserve it. They are lowly animals that don't deserve even a shred of our emotions. Do you understand?"
Garus who is sweating badly and lying on the ground tilts his head and looks at his father. "No, I don't… We have no quarrel with the elves. I tried to search in our archives, but no documents say that what we are doing is right… I don't even need to consult the books, and I already knew, what you are doing father is wrong… tell me, father, why do the elves have to suffer like this?"
Galen feels a painful twang in his heart as he sees his naïve son asking him the obvious. Painful memories of the past surge in Galen as he sees his past reflection on his son. "Because they are tools. They are a means to an end. It is that simple, son. Just like how the farmers in our territory drive their oxen to work for them, we do the same to the elves. With our help, these elves don't need to suffer in the wilderness and can enjoy far more humane lifestyles. They can eat good food, be served their needs, have a safe roof, and they only need to work. They have even better lives than the livestock that farmers raise. It is their fortune to be here."
It is so twisted it is disgusting, and Galen knows this, yet he resists the disgust and soldiers on. He did, and will always do just like how his father before him who is the real culprit of this elf business.
Garus stands up and cleans the dust and dirt in his clothes, and then he righteously says to his father. "Don't think of yourself as so noble, father… What you are running is not a charity but a brothel."
It is testing his temper, and Galen knows falling to anger is what his son wants. So Galen turns around and should just walk off. But before he does, Garus raises a topic. "Father, what was the real reason you are targeting the elves? Why did you have to attack the Lorekleim Forest like that?"
A thought comes to Galen's mind, and he realizes that his son is the spy. He halts in his step ruminating on what he should do. If he really is the ambitious lord that the Fendra province hails as its hero, he would be confronting Garus now.
But no.
Galen is facing Garus as a father. "Just because…" The truth about Lorekleim Forest is not as simple as impulsive greed. "There is a rare atavism that occurs to elves every millennium. No one truly knows how many millennia it has been since the era of creation, but it is said in a thousand years, a silver-haired elf will be born among their kind…"
There is this longing in Galen's voice. "This elf is called the child of the ash. Most often, they die at an early age because strong misfortune hovers above their head. However, if this elf does manage to survive for some time. The hidden vitality in his bloodline will be awakened… and he will be granted immortality."
Garus is in disbelief as he hears something from his father in the level of folklore, and sounds just a lot like hot air.
But the passion in Galen's words didn't diminish one bit.
"This is an ancient legend so old even the elves have forgotten about it. But humanity had habits to keep records. I was able to learn this through your mother who was once a young mystic apprenticing herself to the Tower of Fire."
Garus is already speechless, and only a foreboding feeling remains in his heart.
Galen looks at his son lovingly.
"There are records that state eating a silver elf's heart will extend a mortal human's lifespan by a thousand years. I want you, my son, to eat this silver elf's heart…"
Thunder strikes down as the father and son look at each other in the face of an ominous storm that is about to tear the world asunder.