As Duke Samuel exited the audience chamber to begin formulating the alliance, King Thorian stood up from his throne, his expression one of deep contemplation. He moved with purpose, crossing the vast hall adorned with symbols of the Alanor dynasty. As he walked, he passed a large, imposing painting of himself, an image that captured his youth and authority. But his focus wasn't on the painting.
Thorian approached the bookshelf beside the painting, his fingers trailing over the spines of the ancient tomes until he found the one he sought, a worn, leather-bound book. Without hesitation, he pulled the book from its place. The painting beside him shifted with a low, grinding sound, revealing a hidden passage behind the wall.
He stepped into the passage, the cool air brushing against his skin as he descended a narrow staircase that spiraled downwards into the depths of the palace.
At the bottom of the staircase, Thorian entered a chamber unlike any other in the palace. The walls were lined with ancient artifacts and grimoires, each item neatly arranged and exuding a palpable sense of power. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of runes etched into the walls, casting eerie shadows over the relics.
The high density of energy gathered at the center of the chamber, where a large, intricate magic array was etched into the floor, its symbols glowing faintly. At the heart of the array sat an older man, cross-legged in deep meditation. His long, silver hair cascaded down his back, and his features, though aged, bore a striking resemblance to King Thorian's.
"Grandfather," Thorian called out the old man, his voice cutting through the stillness of the chamber.
This old man was Alaric Alanor Everlight, Thorian's grandfather and the previous ruler of Alanor. His eyes slowly opened, revealing a sharpness that belied his years. He looked up at Thorian, a smile spreading across his face as he recognized his grandson. "Thorian," he greeted warmly, his voice rich with affection. "It's been too long, my boy."
Thorian stepped forward, a smile of his own forming as he approached the elder. "Indeed, it has, Grandfather. Twenty years, if I'm not mistaken."
Alaric chuckled, standing up from his meditative position with surprising agility. "Time moves differently in this place. To me, it feels like only yesterday I was watching you take your first steps as a youth."
Thorian's smile widened. "And I've missed your guidance every step of the way."
Alaric put his hands on Thorian's shoulder, the warmth of their familial bond evident. "You've grown into a fine man, Thorian," Alaric said, pulling back to examine his grandson more closely. "So you have become the king."
With a hint of bitterness, he asked, "When did Slavic pass away?"
Thorian's eyes filled with sadness as he responded, "Father died four years ago, leaving all the responsibilities on my shoulders." He sighed softly. "I've done my best, but there are times I wish I had your wisdom beside me."
Alaric waved a hand dismissively. "You've always had my wisdom within you, Thorian. You carry the Everlight legacy in your blood. But tell me, what brings you to this old man after so many years?"
Thorian's expression grew serious, and he recounted the events that had led him to seek out his grandfather. "It's about Ashvathaa, Grandfather. Our forces have discovered the city beneath the Galdorian excavation site, in the captured Bluehaven territory. The knowledge and power it holds are said to be unparalleled. But Galdor knows of our discovery, and they're fortifying their position. We need to act quickly, and I fear our conventional forces won't be enough."
Alaric listened intently, his eyes narrowing as he absorbed the information. "Ashvathaa…" he murmured, the name stirring ancient memories. "It's more than just a city, Thorian. It's a relic of the Age of Sage, a time when magic and knowledge were intertwined in ways we can hardly comprehend today."
Thorian nodded. "That's why I need your wisdom and power, Grandfather. I need your guidance on how to approach this. The alliance we're planning may not be enough if anything goes wrong."
Alaric's expression grew thoughtful as he considered the situation. "The fact that Ashvathaa has been unearthed is both a blessing and a curse," he began. "The knowledge contained within could propel Alanor into a new era of prosperity and power. But it's also a Pandora's box. Once opened, there's no telling what dangers may be unleashed."
He paused, his gaze meeting Thorian's. "If one gains control of Ashvathaa, they could wield powers that would make their kingdom unstoppable. You'll need to be cunning."
Thorian listened intently, nodding as his grandfather spoke. "What do you suggest, Grandfather?"