Decades Later***
King Arnar awoke with regal vigor, delicately disentangling his chest from the tender embrace of his wife, Eira.
As he stood tall, his majestic presence filled the room, commanding attention.
Reaching for his robe, the fabric flew through his fingers, its opulence reminiscent of the tapestries woven by ancient hands, spoke volumes of forgotten tales and illustrious legacies.
"Ah, humans," he murmured, a trace of amusement danced upon his lips. "Such funny creatures."
The memory of yesterday's conversation lingered in his mind, their desperate pleas echoed in his ears. The humans had beseeched the elves for aid once again, seeking their benevolence.
Arnar was renowned for his sternness and unyielding nature, harboring no inclination to assist the fragile humans or pander to their whims.
The elves had their own obligations and affairs to attend to. Why should they concern themselves with the petty troubles of humanity?
"My king," a voice called out, piercing the tranquility of the room.
Turning, Arnar found himself face-to-face with Arya, one of his wives, her ethereal gaze was fixed upon him. "You rise early, Arya," he acknowledged.
"My king, I believe we should heed the humans' pleas and extend our aid," she spoke with a gentle breeze that caressed his ears.
Arnar's tone grew sterner as he responded, "The power of your water spirit is not to be trifled with by human greed."
Lyra, his second wife, interjected, her tone carried a hint of conviction. "I concur with Arya. We should consider their plight."
A flicker of irritation flashed across the king's face. "It shall not come to pass. Humans are too feeble to wield the might of your fire spirit; it would consume them."
"What about the earth, my king?" Terra, his third wife, whispered gently.
His brows knitted together in contemplation as he observed his defiant wives challenging his authority and will.
"Today, you all teeter on the edge, testing my patience. Mind your words and remember to whom you speak."
With a resolute stride, the king departed, a tempest of emotions swirled within him.
Arnar, a centenarian elf, had ascended to the throne following his father's passing.
The weight of the elven kingdom now rested squarely upon his shoulders. Bound in matrimony to the four elements of nature—Water, Fire, Earth, and Wind—he stood as an indomitable and invincible ruler, unassailable by any force.
No threat could prevail against them. And yet, his own powers resonated with unmatched strength—the ability to siphon energy from others and abscond with their physical abilities.
Such was the formidable might of the elf king, a power granted by the gods themselves, the power to command and reign supreme.
Amidst the looming threat of demons and the insufferable greed of humans, the elves had painstakingly preserved their peaceful existence, tending to their own affairs and inflicting harm upon none.
Yet, this serenity hinged upon the delicate balance of the four elemental forces, interwoven as the lifeblood of their survival.
The king, as well as the entire elven populace, relied upon this symbiotic trust. Forged through trials and tribulations, their unity shielded their land, ensuring their safety and prosperity.
But when the humans brazenly encroached upon their sacred domain, beseeching aid, the king found himself consumed by laughter.
Three realms, adjacent to the elven land, had fallen prey to the demonic scourge.
In a pitiful attempt to manipulate circumstances, the humans implored the king's assistance, insinuating that the elven kingdom itself would soon face devastation.
However, the king, unwavered in his resolve, refused to listen to their pleas as nothing more than utter nonsense, dismissing them with a wave of his hand.
Now, as his wives dared to defy his command, irritation coursed through Arnar's veins like molten fire. "No pleasant nights await them for the next three weeks," he muttered under his breath, envisioning the consequences of their insubordination.
"A lesson they shall learn," he sneered, striding purposefully out of the resplendent palace.
The golden edifice stood resplendent, a testament to divine blessings, while emerald-hued trees and verdant leaves adorned the surroundings.
A silver pathway meandered through the elven town, an ethereal thread connecting their idyllic abode.
Here, in this sanctuary of tranquility, why should he concern himself with the plight of humans?
"Humans..." he mused, a knowing smile graced his lips as he strolled amidst the bustling town, ensuring every inhabitant had their needs fulfilled and desires met.
Meanwhile, his three wives harbored a disquietude with his rule, decrying his self-serving nature and unyielding arrogance.
"We must aid the humans, regardless of his decree. The kingdom remains encircled by their presence, leaving us perpetually vulnerable," Lyra spoke, her dark eyes met with Terra's gaze, seeking solidarity.
Lyra's fiery disposition mirrored her element, her short, vibrant locks flickered like crimson flames wherever she ventured.
"I agree," Terra replied, her emerald eyes astutely observed the room as her long green tresses draped like a flowing curtain of lush foliage, reflecting the mesmerizing allure of a vibrant forest.
"But he forbade it," Aria sighed, her watery palm quivered as she attempted to moisten her flowing obsidian hair, only to witness the droplets vanishing and reappearing.
A telltale sign of her trepidation when defying the king's will.
"Who cares for his opinions? The humans are in dire need of us, just as much as the elves!" Lyra exclaimed, her voice resonated with fervor.
"I agree. We should go forth and aid them," Aria concurred, their gazes then shifted to Eira, who feigned slumber while intently listening.
Eira, the embodiment of the wind, keenly absorbed their every word.
Her quivering thumb found solace within her trembling lips, her body betraying no outward movement.
"And what of her?" Terra inquired.
"She lacks the intelligence to comprehend our cause. I believe the time has come for the three of us to seize control, allowing the elements to guide our decisions. We no longer require the fourth element. Three shall suffice for our survival," Lyra responded, mischief glinted in their eyes as they exchanged knowing glances.
-As Arnar ventured further, a sense of unease gripped his heart.
The rhythmic thud of his footsteps was accompanied by an eerie whisper in the wind, "Arnar..." it faintly called his name.
Suddenly, a gust of air seemed to scream in his ears, carrying a desperate plea for help that echoed through his very being.
"Eira!" The name escaped Arnar's lips in a gasp of disbelief, his eyes widened.
A/N
I doubt this novel will ever go premium, so enjoy a free reading.