[Twenty years to the present]
In a spacious royal chamber, adorned with emeralds and delicate embroideries, many elves covered their faces and wept sorrowfully. Arwen, barely conscious from the pain, smiled faintly at her husband.
"Dear, take care of them for me, okay?"
"Of course, darling. Don't talk too much now. Just rest and it'll all be..."
Ediolus's throat closed up before he could finish the rest. 'Today was supposed to be a joyous occasion,' he thought, 'How could everything have gone so wrong?'
His heart wrenched as he approached his exhausted and frail wife, but he refused to think the worst. 'Today is a good day, a happy day,' Ediolus reassured himself. 'Nothing can go wrong today.' He placed his hand on his wife's wrist, checking her pulse.
Ba-doom. Ba-doom…And silence.
In a fit of rage, Ediolus banged his head against the wall until it started to bleed. He had tried to be brave for his wife and his subjects. But now, as he released his pent-up emotions, the handsome blue-eyed elf fell to his knees in despair. He prayed to the spirits around them for a miracle, but all shook their heads with pitiful gazes. After all, nothing could help the mortal female resist the strong and inevitable pull of the Underworld anymore.
As the spirits began to circle the throne room, hovering just above their Saintess's head, a flood of memories rushed over Ediolus. The first kiss they shared, his sloppy proposal, their post-war celebration, and the many years they had spent together developing the empire. Everything had been so full of joy, hope, and promise, and yet…
Trembling, Ediolus screamed in agony, loud enough for the entire palace to hear. He sobbed uncontrollably but just didn't care anymore. 'What's the point of having all this money and power if you're not here with me anymore?' he wondered as he stared blankly at the ceiling. He wanted to just leap toward the sky and laugh…with his beloved wife one last time…or better yet, follow her into the Underworld. He glared at the retainers who tried to stop him, but a subtle sound soon shook him from his daze.
Ediolus stumbled to his feet and wiped the tears from his eyes. Emotion drained from his face, he calmed his breathing, opening his senses to the world around him once more. Ediolus heard two distinct voices wailing, defenselessly, as if in pain and wanted to cry alongside them, but he knew he had other duties. Ediolus thanked the aunty who carried them briskly and moved to cradle his two newborn twins, hushing them with a lullaby Arwen used to sing.
The adorable baby boy gazed around the room expectantly with beautiful blue eyes and stubs of black hair befitting of a royal prince, while the girl's emerald green pupils lit with joy as she poked her brother in the cheek.
Watching the two newborns play with each other affectionately, Ediolus swore to the gods above that he would fulfill his wife's last request, no matter the cost.
—
[Five years to the present]
The Empire of Arwen thrived as the largest and most influential power of the West. Over the last thirty-five years, the Elves took great care in mending their relationships with the spirits, befriending the fuzzy elementals and tending for their domains once again.
The Western economy also thrived as trade began to be more relevant. With word spreading about the renowned crops, pelts and specialized weaponry that the Elves produced such as poison or paralysis grenades made through a concoction of special flowers and mushrooms, hundreds of merchants from the North, East, and South began paying visits to the nascent empire and thus, set up various trade routes.
The Empire's territory continued to expand, maintaining a stable rule over the Western region. After all, no one dared to challenge the force that had massacred the indomitable Beast Army, and Ediolus's fragment of Light from the Spirit King himself deterred internal challenges for the throne.
As for Ediolus's children, the King continued to dote on his babies, remembering the vow he made to his beloved. Though the two good-looking twins had come into the world together, the crown prince and princess had long since split apart, choosing to spend their childhood and early teenage days in vastly different ways.
Now at fifteen years of age, Alea was a gentle and spoiled teenager who enjoyed conversing with diplomats and merchants to learn more about the rest of the Isles. Having been born in a world devoid of conflict and war, the Elven princess grew to be carefree and naive, often playing with the various spirits around her and ignoring the political dynamics that plagued her empire.
Elas, on the other hand, tasked himself with growing stronger and wiser. He studied the history of the Elves, the inner workings of the political court, and the economic conditions of the empire for hours upon hours, simultaneously working to polish his skills with the dagger and the bow. He watched as the workload of a sovereign began to take a heavy toll on his father and knew that Ediolus couldn't remain in power for much longer. His father had ignored the complaints of a new political faction, pushing them toward revolutionary tendencies, and Elas knew that the king's reaction speed was slowing at the age of 53. He had read the accounts of war on the Battle for Elven Independence and understood that their race's miraculous victory was all due to his mother. With her no longer present to support the empire, Elas presumed that the Western lands were long due for a new king and began to construct his scheme.
The teenage prince gathered allies behind the scenes, paying off members of the inner court and Alea's retainers with his monthly allowance. He constructed an elaborate rumor regarding the Master of Curious Grove, bribing merchants to spread stories of an omnipotent beastmaster who would come to Ediolus's aid in his time of need. And last, he waited until his father grew senile and careless. Confident that no one would support the talentless, spoiled, and cowardly princess who spent her peaceful days lying on grass hills and playing with spirits, Elas knew that his plan could not fail.
All he needed was a tiny spark, and he would wait five years for the right moment.
—
[Present]
Tears rolled down Alea's face as she witnessed the history of their Empire and saw her mother for the first time. She had never seen her father so happy before, and her mother was as radiant and breathtaking as she had always imagined. Furious at her power-hungry brother's greed, the once-delicate princess steeled her heart and decided that she would soon return home to stop him in his tracks.
Having experienced the war between beastkin and Elves through the Spirit King's memory and the bloody revolt led by Elas first-hand, Alea understood that her previous naivety had resulted in her brother's victory and vowed to take back the empire with newfound courage and purpose.
She wiped the tears from her face and noticed the black-haired teenager and his companions, hugging in a circle and sobbing endlessly.
"Stop! Ewwww. Get off of me!" shouted Karl, about to be suffocated by the hate reader's hug. "I-I mean…Please get off of me, Master," he quickly revised.
"How can you not feel anything from this story…you…you monster!!" replied Jason, tears still streaming down his face.
He had read about the revolt in "The Farmer that rules the world" but had not seen anything regarding the Empire's founding, the delightful yet despondent love story, or the miracle produced by the Spirit King and the Saintess — stories which made him jump for joy one moment and wail like a baby the next.
"Well, I am actually a monster," the Doom Monkey replied as a matter-of-factly before being smacked in the face by Eve.
"Shut up, you stupid monkey."
Alea smiled a bit at the light-hearted scene between man and monkey before sending a death glare at Elyon. Her once cheerful and charming demeanor vanished into thin air as the emotionless sneer of a merciless Death God spread across the princess's face.
The traitorous retainer froze with fright, stumbling backwards, and within the blink of an eye, Alea slashed the Elf's throat before he could even utter a word.
Jason and his group jumped to their feet, wary of the sharp killing intent that had just spread throughout the clearing. Quickly turning around, he saw the bloodied princess holding the head of Elyon with a smile. The hate reader nodded internally, knowing that this was what the unfaithful Elf deserved, but was surprised to see the sharp killing intent now directed at him.
Arrow nocked at the ready, Alea's dark brown hair swayed in the wind as she asked the Spirit King for one last piece of advice.
"Spirit King, I…" she stammered. "Too much truth has been revealed today, and now, I am unable to trust anyone. My world has been turned upside down in an instant, and this boy seemed to know it all. Please…" she said with an arrow still staring brightly at Jason's face, "Tell me who he is and if he is trustworthy."
Glancing back at the human who had piqued his interest before, the Spirit King smiled faintly and replied, "You don't have to worry about him."
He winked at Jason before continuing, "It wouldn't be right of me to reveal all of his secrets, so I will just say the following. He may be a bit selfish, angry, clueless, and cowardly at times, but I think in a way…he's a bit like you, Alea. He cares more for his friends around him than he lets on, and he's suffered more than you can even imagine to get to where he is today. A person like this will never bring harm to a gentle soul like you."
As the Spirit King slowly vanished from sight, Alea lowered her bow and arrow and walked toward the hate reader, little girl, and monkey. Her emerald green eyes glistened in the sun as she curtsied before sitting.
"May I?" the princess asked cautiously.
"Sure, why not?" Jason replied.
And with the sweetest and most gentle smile the black-haired teenager had ever seen, she said, "It's a pleasure to meet you all. My name is Alea, princess of the Elves, and I hail from the Empire of Arwen. Shall we begin with proper introductions then?"
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