Chapter 12
Nasrin stared at them closely, attempting to assess the sincerity of their statements. "I'll consider it," she said as she rose from the chair and made her way to the stairs. The four exhaled in relief, but their relief was fleeting as they observed Nasrin walking by them.
"What do you think about letting us go?" Jasper chuckled nervously, dangling about. Nasrin turned to them with a sly smile, waved playfully, and then went up the stairs. Jasper loudly pleaded at Nasrin's receding figure, but a loud thump answered him.
He sighed heavily and glanced at his teammates, who were glaring at him.
He gazed at them, his eyes wide with feigned innocence, tilting his head slightly as he asked, "What?" The subtle confusion in his voice seemed almost genuine.
The three exchanged glances of disapproval, their expressions contorting in unison as they turned away from him, unable to hide their disdain.
Elara turned towards Leon. "If the elf does not make her mind up fast, we won't be able to get the sun flames and leave this place quickly."
"Stating the obvious," Jasper rolled his eyes, clearly frustrated with the situation.
***
As Nasrin closed the door, her sly smile shifted into a contemplative frown. "So, they are 'angels' too," she mused, reaching out with her hand until it vanished into thin air. When she withdrew it, a book magically materialized in her grasp. "Seems like no sleep for me today," Nasrin clicked her tongue as she flipped through the book.
Flipping through the pages with boredom, Narin would occasionally yawn. Reaching the world geography page, she walked towards the couch. The page read: Albaguard continent. Known to be over 80,000 years old, has five human kingdoms and two human empires currently. In a realm shrouded in mystery, the kingdoms of old have vanished from the maps of history. At the forefront stands the formidable Lorvil Empire, a name that echoes power and ambition. Once merely a shadow of its former self, the Lorvil Kingdom languished under the iron grip of the Rilvil Kingdom, which, alongside its four allies, had asserted its dominance over the land.
But the tides of fate turned when the Lorvil king, driven by the weight of oppression and an unyielding spirit, allied with the other kingdoms. Together, they rose against the tyrant of Rilvil, determined to shatter the chains of subjugation. Their combined strength led to a fierce battle, one that would reshape their destinies.
However, victory birthed discord. With the tyrant defeated, the kings turned their swords on one another, each vying for control of the spoils left behind. This internal strife erupted into another war, wreaking havoc across the once-peaceful Forest of Many Seasons—a vital sanctuary for the elves who called it home.
In the aftermath of chaos, the delicate balance of power hung by a thread, and the fate of all races teetered on the brink of uncertainty. Finally tried with the insufferable human's fights, the Apothecary elves—the oldest among the elves—travelled to the nearest kingdom, the Lorvil kingdom.
The elves, with their ethereal grace and ancient wisdom, presented an intriguing proposition to the king of Lorvil. They offered their formidable strength and magical prowess to aid in the coming battle but with a crucial stipulation: the kingdom must renounce all wars and cease participation in any future conflicts.
This was not a decision to be taken lightly. The allure of alliance with the Apothecary elves—direct descendants of the revered high god—was powerful. Their knowledge and abilities could tip the balance of power and ensure victory in a time of uncertainty. However, the cost was significant: peace at the expense of the sword.
The king stood in contemplation; the weight of his choice heavy upon his shoulders. His gaze drifted past the battlefield, envisioning a land free of strife and bloodshed, where his people could thrive in harmony. It was a vision that clashed with the warrior spirit that had defined his reign. Nevertheless, the promise of the elves and the potential for greatness proved irresistible.
With a firm resolve, he nodded in agreement, understanding that the conditions were not just a path to victory but also an invitation to transform the very essence of his kingdom. If they kept their word and embraced this new era, they would gain the inexplicable favor of the elves, able to request their aid three times when truly needed. With the fate of Lorvil hanging in the balance, the king took a bold step into the unknown, stepping away from the familiar path of war and towards a future shrouded in the promise of peace.
After forty years, the old Lorvil king and his son conquered the entire middle region of the northern continent. He declared that war would no longer be associated with the now newly named Lorvil Empire. Satisfied, the Apothecary elves presented a ring to the new emperor, indicating that if he needed their help, he must show them this ring.
Most of the elves in the Forest of Many Seasons had left to find new homes, leaving only the Apothecary elves behind. They gradually revived the forest and isolated themselves from other races. However, due to their long absence from the forest and the conflicts they had faced, their numbers had been slowly declining.
Reaching this part, the door opened, revealing Hunter, who was slightly wet but more presentable now. Nasrin unconsciously closed the book and threw it behind her. Before the book could land with a loud thump, a vine shot up from the floor, caught it, and then slowly slithered away.
Nasrin approached Hunter with a gentle smile, inquiring, "Do the clothes fit well?" A faint blush crept across his cheeks as he nodded in response. She playfully ruffled his hair, and now that it was clean, she could see its true color. He had blond locks akin to her own, but his eyes were a deeper shade of blue, leaning towards grey. If someone wasn't paying close attention, they might easily mistake the two for siblings. Nasrin's eyebrows knitted together as she went into deep thought.