"Elven ruins are present throughout the continent; however, even the few people who study them still struggle to understand their purpose."
Galäm was pensive. He had just opened the letter, and its contents, as he feared, boded ill for him. Indeed, King Entalar Armodens, the first of his name and Galäm's father, was imposing upon him, his son, his figurehead to the people, his puppet before the council, to be present at an assembly of leaders from each region.
This assembly was scheduled to take place in just a week, putting them in a hurry. But what Galäm's father could possibly expect from him, he hardly knew, and nothing good came to his mind. Donovan, on the other hand, seemed to view it as an exercise of power. He was not worried in the slightest, or at least that's what his impassive face showed. It was sometimes hard to read the old man's face, as in his long, graying beard of wisdom, which was only linked to his venerable age, he easily masked any flicker of emotion.
A week, that left him barely enough time to prepare, Galäm thought. The road from Yomanra to Etelor is short indeed, however, the prince did not wish to simply follow the road. He was interested in a few elven ruins. The passion for ancient knowledge that Donovan had passed on to him, a passion that for the sage was more of an obsession, had driven Galäm to want to take advantage of this rare opportunity to get away from Etelor in order to visit some nearby ruins. However, the deadline imposed by his father would only leave him a few days to explore them. That was ultimately what saddened him the most. He suspected that once requisitioned by the king, it would be difficult to escape his grasp for a long time, so, while looking at the maps of the continent, he chose the ruins of Etelm Nar because they were close enough to Etelor to fulfill his duty, allowing him to optimize the time he could spend exploring them while getting lost in his usual daydreams.
These ruins, which he had been surrounded by legends as a child, were, according to current human knowledge, used for the refinement of liquid magic. This magic was extracted from ore found throughout the continent, although the main known deposits were generally located in the mountains of Magnär Hagal, the territory of the Dwarves. The knowledge related to this refinement is currently lost; it was dangerous and considered unnecessary in the eyes of humans who had no need to refine magic for their mages. These mages, naturally sensitive to magic, could already harness it without the need for refinement. Legends also tell of fires fueled by this substance that never seemed to extinguish. Yet today, none of these fires burn. All human scholars naturally wondered why they should put in so much effort to achieve something seemingly simple, but very few hypotheses have thus far provided satisfactory answers in Donovan's eyes.
It was this fervent passion for what they couldn't fully comprehend that had initially driven them to learn more. However, if they wanted to satisfy this passion, they would need to remain discreet, as no frivolous time-wasting would be tolerated otherwise. Hence, they would have to avoid official means of transportation. Currently, Galäm suspected that only he and Donovan knew the contents of the letter. Therefore, he instructed a guard to find a simple and rudimentary mode of transportation, claiming that he needed it to carry some provisions from Yomanra to the capital. To avoid unnecessary questions, he specified that these provisions included a few vintage dishes and bottles of me-rior from Eseka, which were prohibited for consumption in Etelor but highly popular among the kingdom's nobility. The guard smiled naively, taking sudden pride in his role and the trust the prince had placed in him. He snapped to attention and carried out the task. Once the guard had left, Galäm spoke lightly, "Donovan, in your opinion, why would the king need me at the council?"
He completed his thought before Donovan could give his opinion: "War would be unlikely, and he would have no need for my lesser authority. As for implementing decrees, he has plenty of messengers to carry his word throughout the kingdom." Galäm emphasized his words and continued, "Everything else seems futile and uninteresting to me, so why this urgency? He knows we are far from Etelor."
Donovan responded with a cheerful, almost playful tone: "Well, my prince, I'm afraid our king isn't an easy man to read. If he says it's urgent, then it is, and if he thinks it's necessary, then we should be present. At worst, it will clarify our doubts."
Galäm had to be content with this answer. He suspected that his friend couldn't meet his expectations for a response, but it had at least reassured him. After all, the council wouldn't last long. Regardless of the purpose reserved for him, he hoped to be free afterward to pursue matters of much greater importance in his eyes. Anticipating their needs, he and Donovan set about organizing their journey. They needed provisions, and despite the prince's displeasure, a few guards were necessary. The wild lands could be populated by unpredictable beasts and brigands. Donovan would handle these tasks himself, as the prince could hardly conceal his presence for an entire day. They agreed on some formalities, and then Donovan took his leave.
The next morning at dawn, a messenger arrived to meet the young prince. The messenger held another letter addressed to him. Galäm was delighted this time because it bore the seal of the old sage Donovan. He wondered why Donovan had chosen to send him a letter when he was only a few steps away, but he didn't worry about it this time. Galäm thanked the messenger with a humble hand gesture, showing his respect according to the customs of the human kingdom. The gestures and words of the common language had been redefined during the early years of his father's reign to simplify communication between human realms. Before that, each kingdom had very different customs, but now, to greet a person, one had to raise the hand and then lower it slowly in a graceful motion toward the heart. This gesture combined several customs: the northern one from the province of Hagalaz, where anyone wishing to express sincere greetings raised the hand in a slight arched curve, and the southern one from the province of Teneke, where people raised their hand to their heart and inclined slightly. Some also spoke of Gebo, where the custom was to lower the hand slowly to conceal the face. However, the king probably had only vague knowledge of Gebo's customs, despite being an early wanderer of Teneke and a curious traveler always on the road in his youth.
Once the messenger was far enough away for Galäm to be sure that no one else would see the contents of the letter, he opened it with a swift, straight motion that betrayed his impatience despite the fluidity of his movement. He read:
"Prince Galäm, we will meet at the Yömun tavern. This tavern is not far from the port; you will find it easily by following the northern shore. I have gathered a few good souls there who can accompany us to Etelor to ensure our safety throughout the journey."
As he left, the prince had to be careful not to linger too long under the guards' watchful eyes. One of them might, in all good faith, offer to accompany him and unwittingly trap him.