Chapter Seventeen
The ship glided through the shimmering skies as Miles and Crimson hurriedly returned, tension in the air was palpable. "Let me put her down to rest," Crimson urged, determination etched across his features. "Okay," Miles nodded, glancing back to ensure Lilith was safe. "I hope she is going to be okay." He sank onto the deck, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as the enormity of their quest weighed on his shoulders. Suddenly, a bottle clattered against the wooden floor. Startled, he leapt to his feet. "Who's there?" he called out, the urgency in his voice echoing in the stillness.
"It's just me," Crimson reassured, emerging from the shadows of the ship's compartments. But his tone shifted, sharp as a blade. "And if it were an enemy, there's nothing you could have done, just like how you couldn't protect Lilith."
"What do you mean by that?" Miles countered, a fire igniting within him. "I chose to stay and fight; I couldn't run away!"
Crimson studied him, his gaze piercing. "Honestly, I don't know how you managed back in the cells, but that fierce determination to save Laurel? You need to channel that into strength for those who're risking their lives to help you."
"I'll try," Miles replied, fueled by Crimson's words.
"I don't want you to try; I want you to do it! When we reach Elfen Von, there's a blacksmith I know who can forge a sword far superior to my conjurations," Crimson said. "You'll need it to be of real use."
"Thank you, Crimson. If there's anything I can do for you—"
"There is one thing," Crimson interrupted, his expression now serious.
"And what is that?" Miles asked, intrigued.
"Don't trust anyone unless I give you the order to. Do you understand? "he instructed, his voice steady and unwavering.
"Yes, I do," Miles affirmed, resolved. "Now go get yourself cleaned up. I'll navigate us to Elven Von."
As he left, Crimson whispered to himself, "How to enter Elven Von without stirring any trouble? Please hold on a little longer Lilith"
A few hours later, Miles reappeared, a mixture of enthusiasm and apprehension etched across his face. "Crimson, sorry for the hold-up. I got lost in the ship's library."
"No worries; we've reached Elven Von," he replied, his eyes sparkling with purpose.
"Really?" He dashed to the ship's edge, awe washing over him as he gazed at the verdant expanse below. Rich greenery and an untouched forest spread out like a dream. But then, a shadow flickered through the trees. "What was that?" he whispered, a chill creeping down his spine.
"Crimson, I really hope the elves here aren't what I read in the books back home."
Crimson laughed lightly, his eyes glinting mischievously. "If your books paint them as goody-two-shoes, brace yourself for a reality check. We stop here." He pointed at a massive, ancient tree. "Let's go."
As they descended the ship, Miles was filled with anticipation, although unease stirred in his gut. "Why didn't you let us stop by the big tree?" he questioned.
"Because these elves don't let just anyone into their realm. Keep your mouth shut, and only speak when necessary," Crimson commanded, his gaze scanning for any lurking threats.
"Okay, I know the drill," Miles replied, determination bolstering his courage as they approached the imposing gate of the elven kingdom.
Two guards stood sentinel, their eyes sharp and assessing.
"Stop!" Crimson beckoned sharply, halting Miles in his tracks.
"Why, how rude—" Miles began, but was abruptly knocked to the ground by a shimmering barrier standing in front of them.
"Told you to stop. That's what you get for what you made Lilith go through," he snapped, frustration boiling in his voice.
"I apologized, didn't I?" Miles muttered, shaken but defiant.
"What do you seek in Elven Von, traveller?" one of the elf guards enquired, the barrier still looming ominously around them.
"An elf got injured, and we brought her here to heal her," Crimson stated, his voice firm.
"Where is she?" the guard persisted, his eyes narrowing.
"Back on the ship," Miles said, trying to sound composed despite the tension crackling in the air.
"Have you been given permission to speak, vermin?" the guard retorted, disgust etched on his face. "What is the name of this injured elf?"
"Her name is Lilith Lightwood," Crimson declared, holding his ground.
The guard's demeanour shifted, eyes widening in shock. "I will summon the other guards to bring her in. Since she is of noble blood, she will be granted entry. You, however, and your companion are not welcome."
As the barrier shimmered down, the guards emerged to retrieve Lilith from the ship, urgency etched in their movements.
A moment later, the guards brought her forth. "We'll handle it from here," one guard said curtly.
"Can I speak to Sir Lance Lightwood?" Crimson pressed, his eyes steady.
"He's up on the mountain," the guard replied, raising an eyebrow.
"Thank you," Crimson nodded. We're going to see that blacksmith I told you about, and you'll need all your strength," Crimson insisted, his tone brooking no argument.
"Wait this blacksmith has Lilith's last name", Miles inquired. "Yes, and the blacksmith thing is just a hobby of his. He is Lilith's younger brother, so he is probably going to try to kill you or something when he finds out that you were unable to protect his sister," Crimson informs Miles.
"What?" Miles replies, alarmed. "You aren't going to tell him, are you?"
"Maybe," Crimson mutters.
"Wait, but Lilith said she lost everything when Rigour got hold of a vessel," Miles exclaims.
Yes she did but her Little brother and her is all that is left of the Lightwood clan, Crimson replied.